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torukmaktoskxawng · 1 year

Text

tsamsiyu ta’em - a new leaf part two

Masterlist - part five

Summary: Desertion must run in the family.

Pairing: Ronal/Tonowari/Original Female Character

Tag: #tsamsiyu ta'em fic

posted on ao3

Word Count: 9k+

Taglist (bold indicates “could not tag”): @mooniequeen @shit-i-say-shit-i-think @heart-an0n @amiets2 @slutforsmut4ever @yeosxxx @im-in-a-pansexual-panik

Warnings: canon-compliant, canon-typical violence, mature language, adult content, slow burn, polyamory, found family, cool aunt agenda, alien/human (technically avatar), jake sully sister agenda, time skips, I'm trying to hurry up and get to the good parts so bear with me, fluff, angst, adopted spider, tags to be added

A/N: Thank you so much for 300 followers! 🎉

Right from the start of the day, Jake knew something or someone was bothering his sister. She was quiet, she kept to herself, and she went stiff when anyone came near her. It was as though they were right back at the start when he first brought Kayla to High Camp. What was worse is that the kids had noticed and asked their father what was wrong with Auntie, and Jake couldn't afford to tell them that he didn't have all the answers and he had been wondering the same thing. A small part of him was scared that something had happened to her back at Bridgehead or maybe she was changing her mind about staying. Whatever was wrong, Toruk Makto needed to fix it, one way or another.

She had been particularly moody to him all day, but unfortunately, she had to be in close proximity to her brother when they were both given the task of tending to the ikran and their harnesses. She decided to be silent, cold, and distant as they worked. Jake decided not to push his luck and worked in silence alongside her, just trying to be a comforting presence despite not knowing what was wrong. He did, however, notice other presences around them, and they were paying particularly close attention to his sister.

It was a small group of young Na'vi warriors, likely around Kayla's age if not a little younger. They stood off to the side, openly staring at Kayla and whispering to each other. Jake couldn't tell if they were curious or making fools of themselves by mocking her, but Kayla didn't appear to even notice them at first. Then, some avatar scientists joined the group, also publicly gawking at Kayla when their fellow Na'vi friends whispered to them, too. They laughed quietly among themselves and one unfortunate bastard was cursed with a snorty laugh that drew Kayla's attention to the group, sharp eyes locking onto them before she could even blink. The whole group quickly turned away, all either embarrassed or ashamed.

Jake took this opportunity to laugh and lighten the mood, "You've got a growing group of admirers, it would seem."

Kayla paused, still watching the group of men and women now clearly avoiding her gaze before actively ignoring them, bringing her eyes back down to her hands as she worked on weaving together a spare banshee harness. Jake huffed with amusement, "What? Not your type?"

"Not my priority," she muttered, "Besides, I'm pretty sure they're not staring at me because they wanna get some."

"Does that mean you have someone?"

Her eyes shoot up to him like a bullet, narrowed and glaring into his soul as she spits out, "Would I have come to Pandora alone if I did? I'm not the one who abandons people when they need me."

The silence is thick and palpable, able to cut through with a knife. Both Sullys stare at one another, unblinking. One stared in shock while the other glared in rage, but it's not hard to tell which is which.

Jake swallowed back the emotions when his throat suddenly dried, ears lowering in shame, "I'm sorry."

"After all, 'Sullys stick together', right?" She mocked, and one look at her and Jake could tell why she was suddenly pissed off at him. The shame quickly eats him up and threatens to spit him out as her voice wavered, "Usually, I'd find it sweet that you taught your kids some of our family's old traditions... but when that tradition ended up becoming a lie--"

"I was going through it," he tried making up excuses as a desperate attempt of calming her, "I wasn't thinking."

"You were going through it?" She huffs out a laugh of disbelief, the smile that briefly graced her lips was vile and hysterical, "I get that you were twins, Jake. But Tom was my brother, too."

Jake lowered his eyes, unable to look at her any longer. It seems as though Kayla can't just settle on one emotion, all her thoughts that have been stewing for some time beginning to boil over like a volcano. Her voice shook, either in rage or distress, Jake didn't want to look up and find out. "And for a while there, I thought I lost both of you."

"I'm sorry."

"I'm sure you are. Doesn't excuse the fact that you left me all alone, found yourself a wife, and had a few kids all the while letting your sister believe you were dead!" She snapped, growing angrier by the minute when tears started to brew in her eyes. She didn't want to cry. She wanted to be angry. She wanted to punch him and scream but she was frustrated because she had clearly missed that opportunity when they first reunited, "I missed out on so much of your life, Jake. I missed out on their lives, and you didn't care."

"I did care. I still care--"

"You didn't. If I recall, the last thing you ever said to me was 'have a good life, kid' in that passive-aggressive tone of yours."

His eyes flick up to hers, "And your last words to me were even less than friendly."

"Sue me." Kayla snarled back, quick as lightning, "My brother abandoned me on a dying planet, all alone, and didn't bother to make sure I was taken care of."

The wording felt like heavy lead beginning to build in Jake's gut, tilting his head curiously at her, "What do you mean? What happened?"

"Nothing happened. I just did exactly what you told me to do. I grew up." His ears pin to his skull as his mind prompted him to a distant memory of the last time he ever spoke to Kayla. The shame and humiliation were evident in his eyes when she glared back, "To make ends meet I became a marine. You didn't give me much of a choice."

His hand reaches out before his brain could order it to do so, "Kayla--"

She hissed ferociously for her first attempt, the sound coming low from her chest and throat, baring her sharps fangs at her brother, "Don't fucking touch me."

Jake pulls his arms back, afraid she'd bite, and raised them in surrender so she had a clear view of both of them. Defeated, Jake keeps himself back and willingly exposes himself to her verbal lashings, "Alright, let's hear it. I wasn't sure how long it would take us to talk about it. But there's no easy way around it. So come on. Let's talk."

Her eyes were still pooling, threatening to spill, as she shook her head when words failed, "Maybe we shouldn't."

"No, we should. I knew this was coming. Go ahead."

She took a moment to try and find the right words, but there weren't any that she hadn't already said. Instead, Kayla confessed what she had been feeling all this time after having bottled it up for so long, "Initially I was glad that you're still alive. Now that the initial shock and relief have worn off-- fuck you, Jake."

She picked up her work and turned a full one-eighty, walking away and keeping her head low so no one would think she was making a scene. She wasn't able to get far before Jake comes after her, being sure not to touch her, and instead making her stop in her tracks when he rushed around to cut off her escape, "Look, Kayla, wait-- hate me all you want. I know I deserve it. But don't take it out on anyone else but me."

The words were enough to confuse Kayla as her rushing thoughts pause, peering up at Jake in puzzlement, "What makes you think I would do that?"

"I can't afford not to," his whole posture displayed the stern form of an olo'eyktan, shoulders stiff with the weight of hundreds of lives relying on him, "Kayla, you and I, right now, are on opposite sides of a war. Alright?"

The firm reminder breaks the spell and Kayla quickly looks away, deciding to focus on a Na'vi child in the distance, running away from their mother as they laughed instead. Jake sidesteps until he's in her field of view again and she is forced to make eye contact. His expression stays serious, like a father talking down to their child, "Whatever punishment you think I deserve for what I did, I'll take it gladly. But don't do anything to punish anyone else, like telling Ardmore where we are. Don't feed my family to the wolves for my mistakes."

It hurt to think that after everything Kayla has seen in these last few months, Jake would believe she could possibly do something so monstrous. Her eyes widen at him, shattered as she voiced this in such a soft tone, "Do you honestly think I could do something like that?"

He doesn't relent even though he wants to. He wants to believe his sister loved his kids and would never throw them under the bus for crimes he committed, but he's seen too much. He knows what people like Ardmore are capable of, and has seen firsthand what they can do to get what they want. "It's like you said. Twenty years is a long time but it's enough for someone to change. And the side that you're fighting for, the Sky People... They have done nothing but hurt the Na'vi. They've killed animals, entire ecosystems, and even the People themselves. I watched them destroy Neytiri's home and there were many casualties. Men, women, and children. All for what? For the ore that lay underneath. I thought we had driven them away but now they're back, and they're more ruthless than before. That field outside Bridgehead. The Kill Zone? That used to be a forest. A beautiful, powerful, living forest. And now it's gone. Burnt down to the dry desert it now is."

Kayla's eyes dart away, her expression crumbling into a whole range of emotions that she tried to contain, conflict and sadness being only a couple of them. Jake doesn't relent, "Come on, Kayla, you know I'm right. You know what the Sky People are doing is wrong."

It was a weak attempt at defending herself and her species, but Kayla's sisterly instinct to argue with her brother was a lot stronger than common sense, "... They're my people. They're your people."

"No." He shut her down firmly, harshly, "I chose my people. I chose people who love life. 'People who love the ground they walk on and respect the animals they hunt. They believe that everything must return to the dirt so life can start all over again. When have you ever seen a human give back?" When he's met with silence, he takes a different approach, "You're a soldier, Kayla. Soldiers don't have the freedom to make their own choices. They're not allowed to feel or have their own opinions. I would know because I was a soldier, too. I was just like you. But now I'm a warrior."

She frowns, staring up through her eyebrows with doubt evident through her yellow orbs, "There's a difference?"

"Yes. Warriors are loyal and brave. They have honor. They're not mindless animals who only do what they're told regardless of whether or not what they're doing is wrong. Only a soldier does that. I refuse to be a soldier ever again."

The arguing side of her finally gives in, exhausted from spewing all her emotions out all at once in the heat of the moment. She just wants to sleep now, and at this point, she'll do whatever it takes to get back to her nivi, "What do you want from me?"

The opportunity presents itself and Jake finally admits the motivation behind bringing her here in the first place, "I'm asking you to stop being a soldier and start being a warrior. Join us. Join us and learn to love life again as you did before. Stay here. Be a part of our family. Fight for the survival of our family." Kayla looked as though she had expected him to say this, but still appeared unsure, scared of the danger of staying. Jake took a brave step forward and gently placed his hands on either of her shoulders, "My kids love you and they need you. Do you love them?"

She thought of Neteyam, so kind and brave and nurturing. Kiri, so full of hope and life and is just trying to know herself. Lo'ak, desperate for approval and to make himself seen, yet so reckless and funny. Sweet Little Tuk, so full of love for everyone around her and all-inclusive when showing her creativity and happiness. Kayla even thought about Spider, who smiles and laughs with her and tries to make her feel welcome, despite being an odd teenager who has yet to figure out how adult life works. Going beyond the kids, Kayla thought about Neytiri and Norm, people who have included her in everything and accepted her despite their differences, and who have grown to be her friends and family. Kayla's eyes briefly flick back to Jake and nodded, "Yes."

He smiled, "And the forest? The colors? The people?"

"Yes."

"All of that will go away if the Sky People continue to stay here. They'll dig up and burn every tree all the way down to the roots. They'll be an infestation to this world that you've grown to love. Please, Kayla. Stay here."

Determination and desperation intertwine on his face, and Kayla hated how she had to be the one to break such confidence in him. She partially wondered when did their roles reverse, where she had given up but he had hope. Maybe it had been when he first came to Pandora and saw his life through other people's eyes did he decide to change, and even though Kayla was proud of her brother for becoming a better man, she still felt the hurt of abandonment. Despite wishing she could hurt him as he hurt her, she didn't want it to be like this, "I can't, Jake."

His face had started to fall before she could quickly add, "Not when my real consciousness is in Bridgehead. As long as my body's there, I'll always have to go back."

He breathed a small sigh of relief through his nose, calm now that he knew she wanted to stay but just couldn't find the courage to do so, "Then wake up and run away."

"... How?"

"I have a plan."

~~~~~~~~~

The nights were a little cold high up in the cave systems of the floating mountains, but Kayla was ignoring the cold in exchange for looking into a cracked mirror hung up off to the side of the Longhouse, meant to be used for when the avatars needed to do their nightly routines. Kayla purposely waited until she was the last one to use the mirror for the night, the other avatars already lying in their hammocks, waiting for lights out to be called.

Her reflection was something she had only just begun to get used to. Big, yellow eyes, and cerulean skin with natural, flowing blue stripes perfectly shaping the angles of her face. Kayla pressed a finger to one of the many star-glittered freckles on her cheek that she had recently learned the Na'vi call tanhì. She followed the design for a while, losing count after twenty and then meeting her cat-like eyes in her reflection.

It was a face she was going to have to get used to if she was really going to go through with this. She once saw the avatar as a separate person entirely, but now she understood that they are one in the same both mind and soul. No matter what form she took, either blue or peach, she was still Kayla, and she had to remind herself of that every day in the mirror, no matter what reflection was looking at her. Although she was beginning to wonder just how much time she’ll be spending in her human body after tonight.

A plan had been set and now all she had to do was go to sleep and wake up in Bridgehead. Easier said than done, her nerves acting as a stimulant to keep her awake. Already, she was hearing snores coming from the biolab trailer. She heard quiet chatter in the distance, but other than that, the whole camp was asleep, marking just how late her rushing thoughts kept her up. Taking one last look at her avatar, she finally pulls away from the mirror and gets comfortable in her hammock, internally asking Eywa to wish her luck before closing her eyes.

She's awoken by the same blinding white lights and lab coats, asking a hundred questions a minute while routinely going through the motions of giving her nutrition and simultaneously taking blood samples through various needles and tubes in the crooks of her arms. Kayla blankly stared at her pale arms, a little thinner than normal. She hadn't had time to take care of her body in between links and decided that this should be one of the many reasons she needs to leave. Her stomach growled at the idea of freshly cooked teylu waiting for her back at High Camp and was extremely disappointed when a scientist handed her a granola bar instead. Finally, after they had bandaged her fresh wounds and were satisfied with her answers, Kayla stood from the ledge of the link bay and steadied herself,

"I need to talk to General Ardmore."

The general was summoned and brought to the biolab by the time Kayla was offered water and a full meal. The corporal even had time to pull her hair up into a more respectable bun before she would stand in attention for the general. Frances Ardmore walked in and Kayla salutes stiffly, keeping her eyes lowered until she had been given permission to speak.

"Report."

Kayla looked up with a stern look in her eye and a monotone voice, lying through her teeth gracefully, "There's a crash site near the location of what used to be the Na'vi's Hometree. A gunship with some bodies inside. It's not my brother, I know, but with your permission, General, I'd like to go out there and extract them."

"With your avatar?"

"Just myself, ma'am. I had to leave my avatar behind at the crash site." The general's eyes narrow and so Kayla quickly adds before she could be interrupted, "She's safely hidden, I assure you, but I left a tracker on her so I can find my way back. With your permission, I'd like to take a gunship out there and I'll retrieve the remains myself and bring them back so they can be properly identified and sent home to their families. There won't be any need for extra manpower or wasted supplies."

Ardmore didn't speak for a while, and Kayla had to use every muscle in her face to keep herself from smiling at the idea of Ardmore trying to remind herself that she needs to act sympathetic to the families of possibly deceased soldiers. Kayla was sure that Ardmore could care less about some bodies that were over a decade old, but courtesy forces her to be civil as she curtly nods to Kayla, "Permission granted. You get there, you extract the remains and come right back. That's it."

"Yes, ma'am."

The next morning, with a large satchel of "rations" at her hip, a mask over her face, and an AR rifle strapped to her back, Kayla is led to a gunship and then left alone. Remembering her previous training, Kayla strapped herself in and begin the process of starting up the engines while waiting for Control to clear her for take-off. Finally, she gets her orders and she barely contains her eagerness when responding cordially and taking off, floating up into the air before flying away. Silently repeating the rendevous coordinates Jake had provided her the day before, Kayla beelined in the direction of what used to be the Omatikaya's home.

In Sector Twelve, about ninety-three kilometers from the abandoned Hell's Gate facility, now sat a slowly healing memorial site of Hometree. Kayla had heard stories about this place, mostly from Mo'at, Neytiri, and even Neteyam, despite the fact the young Na'vi boy had never seen its former beauty before the RDA had decimated it. Despite never seeing it stand tall and mighty, Neteyam told stories that he had heard from the Na'vi around him who had seen it. He even proudly stated how his own bow, much like his mother's and maternal grandfather's, was made from the wood of Hometree. It is from Neteyam's stories that now let Kayla's imagination run wild as her gunship slowly circles around the site of the former home of the Omatikaya.

Most of it was still barren, Eywa's hold not yet fully restored over this land. Plants and signs of life were visibly, but not yet solidified. The great corpse of such a large, magnificent tree was still visibly, lying across the landscape like a fallen giant. Vegetation was growing all around its trunk, uproots, and branches, cementing it to the forest floor where it will one day fully return to the dirt to give back what it had taken from the Great Mother. Neytiri once told Kayla that the tree will likely not fully decay under her children's grandchildren are born, but by then, she hopes that more songs will be sung for them to remember it by.

Reaching her destination, Kayla slowly lowers her gunship to the forest floor but wisely chooses to stay inside the vessel, knowing that the world's immune system will not take her presence lightly-- not in this mundane form. She anxiously waits, breath somewhat shaking when she exhales, and purposely cuts the engine. She won't be needing to bring this gunship home, after all.

She's thankful that she doesn't have to wait for very long, hearing the familiar, echoing call of an ikran approaching. Sighting familiar blue and purple wings, Kayla grabs her things and climbs out of the gunship, double-checking that her mask was tightly secured before stepping out into Pandoran air. Tightly holding the strap of her bag, she makes the trek over to the ikran and its rider, who has landed a bit of distance away from the gunship out of paranoia.

Jake sucked in a sharp breath of air, his expression solemn and grave as he took in the human form of his sister, in the flesh, for the first time in over two decades. She was shorter than he remembered, with her dirty-colored hair cut to her shoulders and those familiar, Sully blue eyes staring back up at him through her mask. It was like staring at a ghost, haunted by several memories and none of which Jake was entirely proud of, given the latest argument with his sister. Kayla stared back at him with an all-knowing gaze, equally somber and grim as she stood off to the side of his ikran, patiently waiting. Bob had bristled underneath his rider, clearly uneasy about the human beside him, but through the bond, the banshee kept mostly to himself, aware that he was not allowed to eat this human. Jake broke off tsaheylu and dismounted, trudging over to Kayla and motioning her to lift her arms.

"You're a lot smaller than I remember." He stated slyly while inspecting her person for any trackers or listening devices, gently taking the bag from her shoulder and flipping it open.

"Last I checked, I was taller than you in your wheelchair, so watch yourself."

He glanced up from the bag and hissed playfully at her, causing a small smirk to form behind the glass of her mask. Jake hands her back her belongings and then rejoined his ikran, taking a few sticks of dynamite and a detonator out from the pockets of his saddle.

Kayla frowned at the sight of the explosives, glancing between them and the gunship, "Are you sure you don't want another gunship on your side? Two is better than one."

The Na'vi shook his head, "We can't risk it. For all we know, the RDA is tracking all their gear now."

Sighing in defeat, Kayla nods and stands off to the side while Jake rigs the gunship with explosives and calibrates the blasting cap with a timer. He walks back to his ikran, forming tsaheylu before hopping on and reaching down to Kayla with an offered hand. She takes it willingly and allows him to lift her up on the banshee while Bob grunts disapprovingly at the added weight. Jake places Kayla in front of him on the saddle and they take to the sky, high enough to be out of range when Jake finally hits the button setting off the detonator.

The gunship explodes in a blooming flower of fire and debris, the smoke rising into the air in the form of a small mushroom cloud. The loud noise disturbs the wildlife momentarily, with small forest ikran and stingbats taking to the sky. Jake doesn't give the explosion much thought as he grabs a tighter hold on Eywa te' Bob tan'sey mak'ta with one hand, but squeezes Kayla's shoulder with the other, "Now with any luck, they'll label you killed in action."

"Or missing." She muttered.

"Ardmore isn't gonna want that kind of paperwork. She would much rather label you as a traitor than start a manhunt looking for you lost in the woods. You said it yourself, she doesn't like wasting resources on just one individual."

"... So that's it? Just like that, we disappear?"

"Not what you were hoping for?" He peered down at her briefly before looking ahead, continuing to fly.

Kayla hesitates, glaring ahead at the skies while internally fighting with herself before finally confessing her inner thoughts, "A part of me thought it would've been easier for the both of us if I never found out you were still alive. We could've just-- lived out the rest of our lives living in our respective worlds."

Jake allows the wind to fill in the silence, noting how defeated she sounded even with her back to him and the air whipping past them, obscuring her voice. He shakes his head despite the fact she couldn't see him, "The 'what if' scenarios aren't a thing around here. We don't believe in that kind of thing. Everything happens for a reason, and everything happens because it is the will of Eywa. I hope, in time, you'll learn to call this world your own as I did, kiddo."

She drops the debate, for the moment, and scoffs distastefully, "Okay, new rule. No more 'kiddo' talk. I'm not a child."

He smirks, "No? Then why are you small like one?"

He earns himself a sharp, small elbow in his ribcage when she reached back at him and a threatening promise, "Just wait, Sully. Soon I'll have your kids pinned against ya with all the stories I have of you up my sleeve. You'll regret the day you decided to pull me into this world."

~~~~~~~~~

Her nerves returned when they flew back to High Camp and a horn was blown to announce their arrival. Bob lands and Jake helps Kayla down before letting the ikran fly away. Na'vi were beginning to gather, and Kayla, yet again, felt more exposed than usual, even more so now as she was given some obvious glares regarding her obvious sky demon body and military clothes. Jake places a hand on the back of her neck, yet again, and led her away, immediately finding his family huddled together in the back of the crowd, waiting for him. He and Kayla part through the Omatikaya that have gathered and now stood in front of the Sullys.

Kayla wasn't surprised to see them all slightly hesitant by her human presence, and even though she couldn't blame them, it still made her stomach clench uncomfortably. She couldn't meet any of their eyes due to the height difference, and to her horror, even Tuk was taller than her in this form. When Kayla's eyes met the youngest Sully child's, Tuk shied away behind her mother's leg, clearly curious but unsure of getting closer. Off to the side, Kayla noticed that Norm, Max, and Spider were also there to greet her, and, much to her disappointment, even they stood taller than her as her fellow humans. The traitors. Kayla has never felt so small in her whole life.

Jake pats Kayla's back in sympathy while addressing the family, "Alright, Sullys. Your Aunt Kayla is going to be a more permanent presence in our lives now, and she's going to need help to feel welcomed as both a human and a Na'vi. I'm counting on you to have her back, okay?"

And of course, Neteyam is dutifully the first to step up, offering his hand out to Kayla with a gentle smile, "It's wonderful to meet you, Auntie-- again."

She sees a small hint of humor behind his eyes and relaxes, taking his hand in both of hers and smiling up at her oldest nephew, "You, too, 'Teyam."

He steps aside when he felt the shadow of his little brother behind him. The ice is broken and Lo'ak is milking the height difference with good-natured laughs and Spider was egging him on, glad that he was no longer the shortest out of the group. Kayla felt a grin twitch on her lips without her consent and pinches Lo'ak's side to make up for it, laughing when he yelped in surprise. Kiri had walked up, holding Tuk's hand so she didn't feel alone and the sight of the girls reminds Kayla that she had come bearing gifts to try to ease the kids back into accepting her.

"Kiri--" she calls out while frantically fishing around in the bag she kept strapped at her hip. Pushing aside a few necessities she had taken with her, she pulled out a book and sighed in relief, smiling up at the girl while holding the gift out to her, "As promised."

Kiri's eyes widen and reached out, gingerly taking the gift as if it was something precious. She read the title and then the author's name before glancing back down to Kayla, eyes and smile warm, "Thank you, Auntie."

Finally, Tuk's shell cracks and she begins by poking and prodding at the human woman that now stood shorter than her, lifting Kayla's arms and inspecting her form in awe before her fingers find her aunt's hair and instantly start playing with it. The girl giggles while stating, "It's so soft! We gotta braid all this, Kiri."

"Tomorrow, sweetheart, okay?" Kayla shines a smile at her youngest niece, who nods eagerly and puts her whole weight into hugging her aunt, who is barely able to catch her before they could fall.

Jake smiles while watching the heartwarming interactions before tapping Human Norm on the shoulder, "You got a space for her, right?"

"Absolutely. The second half of the old shack is still functional and is currently being used as storage. She can have my old bunk if she wants."

Jake's nose scrunched up, a little put off by the suggestion, "I doubt she'd want it if I told her all the things you and Trudy got up to in that bunk. She can have Grace's old space."

Norm snorts while shamefully scratching the back of his head, "Sure thing. Probably a better idea." He breaks away to greet Kayla himself, putting on the widest grin as he stands next to her, comparing their height difference with his hand much like before, "It's nice to see that this transfers, no matter what form you take."

Kayla rolls her eyes and shoves him in the chest, causing Norm to bark out a surprised laugh. Through reacquaintance with her family and friends, Kayla had noticed Neytiri standing off to the side in her peripheral. The human woman took a moment to pointedly stare at the Na'vi woman, their eyes meeting and forming a standstill. Neytiri was stiff, both in posture and expression, a statue that didn't waver against Kayla's gaze. It unsettled the Sully woman but she tried not to show that in her eyes, instead she brought her fingers to her forehead, and lowered them in Neytiri's direction. The Na'vi woman blinked, and with the gesture, her posture began to relax. Neytiri smiled. It wasn't big or emotional, but it was small and sincere. She nodded back in response.

After dinner, Norm brought Human Kayla to her new room she would be sleeping in when out of her avatar body. It was a separate trailer from the biolab, standing on its own and older than some of the buildings the humans have taken from Hell's Gate. Norm explains that the trailer was a part of Site 26, a small mobile link meant for avatar scientists who went off-grid for research in the mountains. He tells the story of how he was part of a small science group who retreated there to work so people like Parker Selfridge and Colonel Miles Quaritch wouldn't be breathing down their necks back in the day. After he and Kayla go through the airlock pressure doors and step inside, Kayla takes off her mask and looks around, immediately noticing a few familiar sights.

The first was a wheelchair, abandoned, covered in dust, tossed off to the side. Clearly, the place needed some cleaning, but Kayla wasn't worried about the dust at the moment. She beelined for the wheelchair, bending down and helping it stand back up on its wheels. Norm stands in the doorway and watches the scene in front of him with a solemn reaction, explaining as she continued to look around, "This is it. This is where Jake and I made our last stand as avatars before the fight. The other half of this shack is where the link bays were, but the trailer was completely demolished back in the war and so we left it abandoned out in the woods."

She moved over to the desk and lifted a picture from its home there, blowing away the layer of dust and revealing the contents of the picture. It was clearly Jake at the front of the group photo, human, sitting in that very same wheelchair, smiling at the camera lens. Kayla's finger briefly traces her brother's old face, willing her mind to remember it after staring at his avatar form for so long. Standing on either side of him was Norm and a woman Kayla didn't recognize. Clearly of a military background, the woman -at least younger back then compared to Kayla now- grinned behind her sunglasses, her dark hair pulled back in a ponytail and spilling over one side of her shoulders. Behind Jake, with both hands firmly placed on his shoulders, stood an older woman with short, curly red hair and sparkling eyes as she smiled, proudly, at the camera.

Kayla hears Norm shuffling around behind her and gently places the picture down, turning back to him as the male scientist was moving around some old equipment and patting the mattress of a bottom bunk off to the side of the trailer, "This was Grace's bunk. It's yours now."

That night, as she sat alone in her new living quarters, Kayla got to work on making this place feel more like home. The first order of business was to clean away all the old pictures and put up the new ones-- well, not really new compared to the photo of Jake, Norm, and the two women. Kayla retrieved her envelope of pictures and placed one photo on the mini-fridge, inspecting it for a moment before she had to move on.

The picture was definitely older than the ones of Jake and the scientists. It was a picture that was taken roughly a month before Tommy was killed. The twins were sitting on the couch so Jake could feel a bit of normalcy, requesting that his wheelchair be kept out of the frame of the photo. The twins smiled at the camera, and Kayla stood behind the back of the couch, leaning over her brothers with a wide grin on her face. Present Kayla smiles to herself before moving on to the next big step of her life.

~~~~~~~~~

As promised, Kayla spends the next morning and afternoon with her nieces, in human form, so that she can watch and learn how to properly braid Na'vi hair. She learns this by letting the girls use her unconscious avatar as a demonstration. Kayla's avatar hovered in her sleeping hammock, unconscious to the world, while both Kiri and Tuk weave every little bit of her locks into various small, intricate braids, pulling them tight along her scalp and purposely braiding the hair behind her large ears so the locks were out of her face. Kayla watched from off to the side, trying to pay attention even as the braiding took hours to complete. Tuk eventually got bored and left her sister to finish the look before excitedly asking her aunt if she could braid her human hair instead, to which Kayla agreed but only if the braids were larger and didn't take as long.

As the girls worked on both human and Na'vi hair, they decided to share their parents' love story, much to Kayla's awe, amusement, and horror all in one. Of course, she was curious about how her brother and Neytiri met and why Jake decided to turn against his own kind for her, but Kayla wasn't hoping for any specific details. Unfortunately, the Na'vi do not shy away from such topics and even openly talk about it to their young, as Tuk liked to prove to her auntie as she refused to spare her any... scrutinous details.

"-- And then they mated before Eywa!"

Kiri's body and tail go rigid even as she frantically scrambles over hammocks to cover Kayla's ears while berating her loudmouth sister, "Tuk!"

Despite the uncomfortable conversation, Kayla found herself laughing to the point she was crying, holding her ribs as they ached and wheezing until she couldn't breathe. She didn't find the initial storytime hysterical, but Kiri's haste to spare Kayla's dignity, Tuk's innocent gaze, and Kiri's hands practically folded on either side of the human woman's face definitely acted as the cherry on top.

Days went by and Kayla was much more comfortable jumping in and out of her avatar form, even more so now that she wasn't waking up and being constantly poked and prodded. On one of her first days as a human in High Camp, Kayla wore a tank top and was bombarded with concerned questions when Max noticed all the needle scars on her arms. Although she tried not to think about how she was practically a guinea pig for the RDA, her family wasn't letting her forget it. Max must have told Jake because the olo'eyktan regarded his duties for the day to instead take some time to spend with his little sister. He grabbed a child's bow and brought her down to the forest floor to do some fishing, even keeping a spare mask strapped to his hip for her if she needed it. He never asked about the scars, but Kayla could feel his eyes on her arm when she pulled the string of her bow back and tightened her form per his instructions.

After firing and missing a few arrows, clearly distracted by his stares, she sighed heavily before turning to look up at him, "It'll never happen again, thanks to you."

~~~~~~~~~

In between lessons, Kayla was finally getting to know other humans who honorably live among the Omatikaya. One individual, Jocelyn, was one of Kayla's personal favorites, aside from Norm and Max. Jocelyn was a biolab tech and didn't own an avatar, so she goes about her day normally, as a human, with a breather mask always secured on her face. Her knowledge stemmed from fixing vital technology -to help the humans survive- all the way to medical training -to keep the avatars kicking-. Not only did she live among the Na'vi, she talks to them fluently, and they don't appear bothered by her tiny presence. Kayla often sees Jocelyn, short as she is, trailing after a couple of young Na'vi hunters. Two young men, to be precise, who always love showing their little sky demon friend things they've brought back from their travels outside High Camp. They always let Jocelyn take samples and further inspect whatever they bring home. Not only was she a technician and a healer, she was also a scientist and she was always hungry for more knowledge of the world she lived in.

But even though she's full of wonder and excitement, she is also pretty strict. The kids in particular exasperate Jocelyn and Kayla always gets a kick out of watching her trying to wrangle the Sully kids whenever Spider sneaks them around the biolab. Kayla has interacted with Jocelyn loads of times at this point and always found her intriguing, but this took the cake, especially when she noticed how Spider practically had the female biotech wrapped around his finger. To be fair, Spider has most of the human scientists and avatars wrapped around his finger. They say it takes a village to raise a child, and the humans left behind on Pandora were no exception when it came to raising Spider.

However, despite this, Kayla couldn't help but wonder why Spider doesn't hang out with anyone else outside of the humans and the Sullys. He's an overall good kid and he's passionate about the Na'vi culture. If it weren't for the physical looks, Kayla would've definitely thought he was one of the Omatikaya when they first met.

She decides to ask him about this one day when Spider decided to sit down and teach her more of the language. Kayla was in her avatar form that day, now sporting tightly braided hair with beads that clicked when she walked. Kayla had to admit that she liked her new look even more knowing that her nieces had woven her a new identity. Spider appeared relaxed while teaching her certain words that are generally used in combat while her mind was still buzzing with her own questions.

"So do you just hang out with Kiri and Lo'ak or do you have other friends?"

Spider shrugged, "Some of the other scientists had kids while being stuck here, but I was older than all of them so I didn't play with them much."

Kayla nods, indicating she was listening. She had been told of Ardmore's initial threats to the humans who harbored Jake Sully and the Omatikaya when the Sky People first returned to Pandora. Some humans, especially the ones with families, stood down and surrendered in exchange for full pardons and safety for their children. That included Spider's foster family, the McCoskers. From what Kayla has heard, Spider's foster family was not the greatest of guardians, especially the foster father. He had betrayed Jake and the Na'vi to Ardmore, being responsible for the deaths of fellow humans who sympathized with the Omatikaya. Jake didn't go into depth with what happened to the McCoskers and the other humans who surrendered, but she assumed that for Spider's own sake, no one wanted to mention them now that they're gone.

Spider didn't appear to notice Kayla's inner turmoil as he continued, "Tuk is kinda in the same boat. I hung out with Neteyam for a while there. We're the closest in age... but he hasn't really been wanting to hang out anymore."

"Why not?"

The boy stares off in the distance, unable to keep his eyes on Kayla for long before he has to look away again as he muttered, "Probably because he's training to be the next olo'eykan. Which is fine. Good for him."

It sounded only partially genuine, and Kayla doesn't back down, "But Kiri can still hang out with you even as... uh... what's the word for tsahik in training?"

"Tsakarem."

"Right." Silence lingers until Kayla braves awkward silence, "It... it doesn't have to do with whatever Neytiri has against you, does it?"

A scowl immediately forms behind the breathing mask, "She hates me. Hates the fact her kids love me even more."

"From my experience, it doesn't take much to be on her bad side," she tried lightening up the mood, "I wouldn't sweat it too much, kid."

"You don't get it."

"Don't I? I know she's not overly fond of humans."

"It's more than that with me. To her... I remind her of the man who nearly took everything from her family. My father was Quaritch."

The name sounds bitter on Spider's tongue, clearly a bad taste for him. Kayla's comically big and yellow eyes widen even further, "You mean the colonel who ran security at the mine before the humans were sent back to Earth?"

He only nods and she hisses in sympathy, "Shit. Okay, I can see why you'd have a hard time getting on Neytiri's good side."

"Yeah. No kidding."

~~~~~~~~~

Unlike Spider, it didn't take Kayla a whole lot to get on Neytiri's good side, but it's not as though she had to try. Neytiri was already warming up to Kayla, both in and out of her avatar form. The Na'vi woman sometimes enjoyed Kayla's presence in her human body, despite not wanting to be around the other Sky People that live amongst her clan. In many ways, Neytiri felt as though she was with Grace or Sylwanin again. They would've loved Makayla Sully. She was more level-headed than Jake -or at least compared to when he was younger- and she was observant, someone who calculates before doing anything. She thought ahead and she always had something Neytiri remembered Grace calling 'common sense'.

Neytiri grew to appreciate Kayla and would fondly watch her interact with Jake. Neytiri was aware that her mate had at least one sibling in the past, but up until now, she could only imagine what kind of a brother he was. With Kayla around, Neytiri got to see a side of her husband he hadn't let anyone see before. With Kayla around, a bit of mischief returns to his eyes, always ready to tease his sister without a second thought, regardless of who was watching. Mo'at wanted to berate the olo'eyktan for such childish behavior, but Neytiri was quick to silence her mother, "They need time to be reacquainted as siblings."

And siblings they were. Neytiri often smiled when around the adult Sully siblings. Watching Jake and Kayla interact often reminded her of other sibling duos, such as Neteyam and Kiri, or even herself and Sylwanin. But it's not to say Jake and Kayla were the most perfect siblings. Kayla still had trouble forgiving Jake for past mistakes and would often remind him of said mistakes just to add dirt to the fresh, reopened wound. Neytiri understands why Kayla must hurt Jake the way she had been hurt, but Jake was still Neytiri's husband and she was protective -if not a little possessive- of him. So, to try and find peace between the brother and sister, Neytiri decides to take Kayla hunting without Jake present.

Kayla didn't refuse, slipping into her avatar form and excitedly following Neytiri to her ikran. The pair fly down to the forest floor and immediately pick up a trail that had to be yerik. While tracking the animal down, Neytiri found it the best time to breach the topic, "Jake tries his best to help you feel at home here. You try your best to push him away."

Blunt as ever, she takes Kayla off guard, the female avatar turning back to face her with wide eyes. They stood in silence, the hunt momentarily forgotten until Kayla's mind catches up to her and she shakes off the initial shock. She turns back to the task at hand, following the tracks Neytiri had instructed her to follow with a scowl on her face, "Jake was the one who told me that relying on others won't help when you're trying to survive. I'm just living up to his advice."

"He's not like that. Not Ma Jake."

"Then congratulations, Neytiri," she exclaimed sarcastically, "You got to experience the best side of him. I didn't. I lost a brother before him. I can do it again."

"Can you?"

She is met with silence again, staring at the back of Kayla's head. Neytiri took the moment to admire the braids her daughters have woven into their aunt's hair before bringing herself back to the present and gently adding, "I understand."

"Do you?"

"I lost my sister," Neytiri forced out, her tongue tasting bitter from the words. She never said such things out loud, and the shock that sinks into Kayla's face was one of the reasons why. Neytiri despised any pity people send her way after everything she's lost. She didn't want the pity, especially now when she has more family than she ever thought she'd have. "The Sky People murdered her right in front of me. I was only a little older than Neteyam when it happened."

Kayla's mouth opened and closed as she tried to come up with something comforting to say but the only words that come out are her initial thoughts, "Oh, my God. I'm sorry."

Neytiri tightens her lips together and briefly smiles before letting it fall, having heard all those words before. She took point in the hunt, walking ahead while following the tracks so she wouldn't have to look at her sister-in-law, "Can I ask? What happened to Tomsully?"

"He was killed," Kayla explained automatedly, "Some... murderer with a gun shot him down in the streets and left him to die alone. It was cold and raining that day. They said he didn't suffer, but..." Kayla shook her head to refrain from thinking about it, "I wasn't there. Neither was Jake. I was job searching and Jake was out drinking his life away. He never mentioned?"

"He grieves as I do. I don't talk of my sister. My children don't know enough about her. Ma Jake says little about his old life."

Kayla swallowed thickly, eyes hard as she stared at the back of Neytiri's head, "Let me guess. He never mentioned me."

The Na'vi woman paused in her steps, hesitating before finally turning back to meet Kayla's eyes, "I did not know he had a sister until you came here."

That stung. It stung knowing that neither women were ever aware of each other until now but Kayla couldn't wrap her head around another mystery, "So-- how are you so calm about all of this? Why are you so accepting of me? I'm part of the same species that's responsible for your sister's death."

"So is Ma Jake."

"But you're not hostile toward me like you had been when you first met Jake, or so I'm told. Why?"

Neytiri smiles, opening her mouth and taking a breath before whispering, "... You are my husband's sister. He shares your blood... as do my children."

She steps closer to Kayla, reaching out and placing a gentle hand on her shoulder, much to Kayla's surprise as Neytiri proclaims, "You are Makayla te Suli tsmuke te Toruk Makto. You are my family now. Ma tsmuke."

Kayla's ears and tail twitch in attention to the sound of her name, using her newly gained knowledge of the language to finally understand what her sister-in-law said. Slowly, a smile formed on her lips, warm and quivering ever so slightly, nodding to Neytiri when she didn't have any other words to say.

She had always wanted a sister.

~~~~~~~~~

By the time the kids had gotten used to Kayla's human form, they were dying to show her their world through her eyes and not her avatars'. Without her night vision, everything glowed so beautifully at night and Spider suggested taking her to some fields to watch the fan lizards fly. Lo'ak was immediately all for the idea, dragging the rest of his siblings into it so they could all go. His parents were hesitant at first, but then Kayla reassured them that she'll keep a close eye on the children and so Jake and Neytiri relaxed before seeing them all off, wishing them to have fun.

The children didn't waste time once they were deep in the forest, hunting for kenten as eclipse rolled around. Before she could blink, Kayla was completely surrounded by floating lizards, glowing in many shapes and colors, flying above her head with helicopter-like wings. All the kids laughed at her reaction, the human gobsmacked by such wonder. Tuk tugged her along and the kids all began running around in the fields, disrupting more fan lizards and laughing as the animals took to the sky, igniting the world around them with their soft lights.

Kayla stood off to the side, watching the children and laughing with them. After a time, Spider had taken a break from the fun and collapsed on the ground at Kayla's feet, laughing in between catching his breath. Looking up, he noticed the adult's eyes on his and his smile immediately fell, quickly turning his eyes away to watch his friends play in the fields while trying his best to ignore Kayla's stares and shrink in on himself.

Kayla didn't take it to heart, only bluntly stating what she thought, "You prefer me in my avatar form, don't you?"

Spider's shoulders rise and fall but he still couldn't look at her, "... Sorry."

"No sweat. Can I ask why?"

He shrugged, "I don't know."

"I think I do. Can I guess?" Spider shrugs again and Kayla plops down in the spot beside him, resting her arms over her knees when she brought her legs up close to her chest, "Originally I only wanted to hang out with you and the other humans in my own skin so you didn't feel intimidated, but I think you're actually more intimidated by humans compared to Na'vi. You prefer my avatar because it's all you've ever known living here."

They sit in silence apart from the Sully kids laughing when one of the kenten decided to land on Lo'ak's face to rest. Spider huffed a small laugh at the scene but otherwise didn't say anything. Kayla grabs his attention again by elbowing him, "It's not a bad thing."

"It's not?"

"Why would it?"

He spares a glance at her, the reflection from both of their masks making it difficult to find her eyes right away, "You don't think it's bad that I prefer hanging out with a species other than my own?"

She flashed an amused, exasperated expression, "Kid, my brother permanently transferred his soul from one body to another of a completely different species. Do you think I'm one to judge you when you're the one teaching me the Na'vi ways and hanging out with my brother's kids?"

She laughed and Spider's ears heat up in shame, a little embarrassed for assuming the worst out of her. He looked away and mumbled under his breath, "My foster family didn't want me to forget where I came from."

"That's not bad either unless they forced you..." Initially, Kayla brushed off the silence until it began to linger too long, then she spared a glance back at Spider. He was stiff, unable to stare back while stubbornly keeping his eyes on the Sully kids. Kayla's eyebrows furrow, "Did they force you?"

"... What is Earth like?"

"Sure. You strike me as the kind of guy who would like music concerts. I'll start there."

Beating around the topic and finding a new one. Classic. It almost would have been easier if Spider had just said 'yes', but Kayla doesn't scold him. Instead, she hums, staring up at the stars as she thought back to her homeworld, "Nothing you would miss, kiddo."

"Can you tell me things I might've missed?"

A/N: Jocelyn is technically one of the many unnamed scientists we see in the Way of Water. She's the one who Tuk annoys with her toy in her first scene and further gets after the teens when they cut through the Avatar Longhouse. She technically doesn't have a name but I used her actress' real name to fill in the blanks.

Sorry if this felt a little rushed, but the next chapter is gonna be the start of the events that transpire during the Way of Water! Buckle up! We're getting close and I'm so excited to share with ya'll! Thank you so much for the support!

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setaripendragon · 2 months

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Okay so new accidental proposal idea for Bagginshield.

There's a big party in Erebor for reasons. Thorin is still not fully healed and when Bilbo asks if he's ready to go lay back down since he's been up way more for the day, Thorin says he must be the first to dance so everyone else can start too and dance at least a little more than one or two songs and glances tiredly at a group of dwarrow.

So Bilbo stands up, and being a well raised gentlehobbit, dramatically sweeps into a bow and offers his non dominate hand palm up and keeps his position as he asks if Thorin will dance with him. There is a huge pause.

NOW either Thorin can choke out a yes and take Bilbo's proffered hand and the hall erupts in cheers OR for comedy Balin can basically remind everyone that Bilbo is a hobbit and does not know their ways and Bilbo gets to be rather embarrassed that he technically proposed to Thorin in the most serious of ways for dwarrow, one that would only be done for a love match, and so publicly makes it way more intense. While Bilbo was just holding to proper Shire manners by not staring at the asked so they can feel less pressure to say yes if they don't want to.

I think if I had the health for writing that I would go with the first way as accidental proposals are so fun in my opinion but just wondering which way others would take it. So which would you pick if you were writing a story or would you have another way?

*Asks are sent for fun, no pressure to answer.

Oh, absolutely Thorin would accept! I'd probably write it that Balin or someone would be About To Explain, but Thorin, who 100% thinks Bilbo - clever, sneaky little hobbit - did the research and Knows What He's Doing, says yes before anyone else can jump in.

And then everyone else wonders if Bilbo did in fact, know what he was doing.

And Bilbo gets Very Confused when people keep congratulating him, and very exasperated with Thorin who keeps asking him about Proper Party Planning Procedure, and he keeps demuring because he knows Hobbity Manners, not what's appropriate for dwarves! Which Thorin thinks is yet more Respect For His Culture, and pushes for the hobbity answer anyway, which devolves into hours long discussions of Hobbity Propriety, and maybe that's when Thorin starts to get an inkling...

So he does the sensible, responsible, grown-up thing - hah! - and talks to someone not Bilbo about his growing concerns that he's planning a wedding Bilbo doesn't realise he proposed. And that someone (Balin? Dis?) face-palms because they're a bit too deep in planning a mountain-wide celebration to just drop it now if Bilbo didn't mean it.

And then someone (I'd go with Dain because Dain's my favourite, but Ori or Kili would be funny too) just blurts out something about 'the wedding' and Bilbo gets all 'Oh! A Wedding? Is that a big deal to dwarves?'

'Is it not to hobbits?!'

'Well, the actual... getting married part is important, of course, but we don't really celebrate it so much. It's all very personal and private, you see? It's common knowledge in the Shire that if someone up and vanishes for a little while, they're probably off getting married.' A long pause as Bilbo stares off into the distance looking more and more perturbed. 'Oh good gracious me! Everyone back home is going to think that I-'

'Well, aren't you?'

'Aren't I what?'

'...getting married?'

'WHAT?!'

And then probably cut to an epilogue-scene where Thorin and Bilbo are getting married in some very long-winded, official ceremony deeply steeped in Ritual and Tradition, and in between speeches and vows and probably Balin droing on and on and on (possibly reciting lineages? That seems like a thing that might be very important at a dwarven wedding), Bilbo and Thorin are having a hissed argument on the topic of 'I can't believe you thought I'd propose like that!' 'I can't believe you thought I was asking all those questions theoretically!' 'Oh, pardon me for thinking you might be interested in learning about my culture' 'That is not what I meant and you know it' 'Oh do I? You don't seem to know what I mean by things, so why would you expect me to know what you mean!' etcetera and so on.

I'd probably try to figure out a way to have it devolve into aggressively complimenting (complisulting?) each other somehow, so that Balin could ask for their personal vows/declarations of affection and intent, and they'd just... carry right on without missing a beat.

(Some dwarven songcrafter would turn it into a rom-com duet. In Khuzdul, so Bilbo has no idea it exists for years and years and then gets to reprise the 'Tell Me What Things Mean, You Great Lump!' argument when he finally does realise what it's about.)

#asks #amloveabledeathmo #bagginshield #oh this poked the 'creative juices' button hard #not fic #the hobbit #bilbo baggins #thorin oakenshield #accidental marriage #sort of

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precious-little-scoundrel · 10 months

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From Sarge’s kids I think I’m (as of now) excited to learn more about Daisy. She’s got a lot of Elvis in her and she witnesses Elaine go to hell and back to help him beat his addiction and although she’s independent I hope there’s gonna be someone who will be able to do the same for her or stand by her. Not to mention she’s got a twin who they come off as polar opposites (what with Rosalee being a huge Daddy’s girl) and her comments towards her older sister Ella’s marriage - I get the feeling there’s a lot to unpack there.

I think sometimes Elvis felt like he was too much to love and I see a lot of his personal insecurities in Daisy, she even is a popstar like him and that’s a lot of people loving you with maybe them feeling like they aren’t really known for who they are deep down.

I am so happy to hear this, I’ve got a little started on each kid’s own fic (I want one for each like I had for Jesse, just to establish them and then let loose with the intermingling) and I really think hers is compelling. It’s been truly a blast to get to know her and I’ve gotta be honest she may be the most Lisa-like of any Sarge kid in many ways, partly because she’s so Elvis incarnate. It took awhile but me and my scheming buddies have cooked up a good partner for her and she will always have her family as backup and even her godfather Marlon. I think she will, as you said, be publicly adored but can be rather offputting one on one, even though she desperately needs connection. I think eventually, and not after too long, all these relationships get far better, and Daisy finds her little nook in the family easily. She is the one to go to for the zero bullshit takes or help hiding a body. Loyal and fierce that one.

And here, since you made my day asking about her, have a little random snippet I’ve written about her first big debut recording which came from her rehab scribbles and, unfortunately for the family members her lyrics feature -becomes a sensation.

Era: 1978-9ish??

Warnings: moderate…mentions of past divorce, infidelity, a daughter sorta writing a hit tell all? remincence of a one off threesome and Elvis having straight man panic for it (I’m afraid this couple is polyamorous central I’m the 60’s but nothing explicit) big ole family chat with the grown kids, chaos as can be expected…

What about Wendy?

“Daisy Mae!” Elvis bellows her full name because the crime warrants it, and from behind him, her voice answers, not in person from her place sprawled on the couch but behind him, coming through the stereo in a clear cadence that his creative side must acknowledge is skilled and evocative. What Elvis doesn't find so praiseworthy is his Dear Daughter hanging the family laundry out for all to see with lyrics like:

—“So I'll lock the window and turn on the AC, You'll throw your rocks, and you'll scream that you hate me, But it gets old being forever 20, And what about my wings? What about Wendy?”—

out on a clothesline for all the world to commentate on his failings and his marriage.

The music video coming out tomorrow on MTV, teased as featuring a fresh faced Daisy in a montage of her mother’s most iconic looks -including that secretive wedding gown so few of the nation ever saw, rather hammers home the not so subtle point. As far as Elvis is concerned this is about as disloyal as it gets.

And he is having none of it.

“It’s art, Daddy.” Daisy murmurs, utterly unphased by the hurricane of wrath she can match once she gets that cup of coffee Rosalee is making her.

“Is this how you see us?” Elvis demands and Jesse winces to the side, things had been going so smoothly after Danny was born but lord, the Presley’s just can’t manage to be calm for long, Daisy had to record that stupid black book she scribbled in during rehab and, my does it have some choice takes on the events of the last decade. “This how you see your childhood?” Elvus goes on, “Where we loved ya like no one’s ever loved any kids and gave ya everythin’ and-“

“-and slammed a buncha doors in between.“ Daisy shrugs, not meaning to be cruel, but it’s the truth and she’s never had her sibling’s affinity for the affection that the rest of the kids take as blood money for the insanity they got put through. Daisy doesn't hold a grudge against anyone for her childhood, in fact, she’s thankful for the writing material. But she’s not gonna be sorry for writing shit as it was.

Which was mama playing a haggard Wendy while Daddy flitted in and out of the window at whim like Peter Pan.

“Girl,” her daddy begs her to understand as he takes his seat next to her on the sofa, big ringed hand familiar and pleading on her bony knee, as if somehow this appeal of his will lock the song back into her diary and out of the radio -or maybe he doesn’t care about his reputation anymore, he’s gotten lax about that after the divorce, maybe he really is seeking after his child’s good opinion this time when he continues, “I’m all for art’n’shit but have I not taught ya nothin’ bout-“

“Daddy, ya didn’t even write your own songs.” Daisy gently tries to get him to see the difference in their art but Jesse gasps out in horror:

“Daisy!!” like she just shot their father instead of stating the truth. Which is kinda her problem with her family, they can’t take straight facts.

“Alright, alright then,” Elvis simmers a bit but his tone is restrained as he presses his point, “so ya write from the heart and ya wrote about life, I get ya. So then why’d you call mama Wendy when, w-w-when she’s -she’s my Tinkerbell?”

“You’d rather I used your pet little name in public?” Daisy scoffs at his muddled logic and feels bad for the first time after -soon as his brow furrows in genuine hurt. Daddy loves mama, he loves her again like a new man and Daisy doesn’t get how that works but it’s the truth and she’s got no fight to pick with the truth. It makes her admit with a shrug, “I used it ‘cause Marlon always says she’s Wendy.”

You could hear a pin drop the way everyone’s chatter in the living room stops, even the coffee maker stops spluttering in the distance and it’s highly likely Jesse isn’t even breathing as everyone’s head’s swivel, Daddy’s slower but more intent than any, to look at Elaine where’s she sits in the white arm chair, blanket cast over her where Danny fell asleep while nursing. She’s as white as the rocker she sits in.

“Oh does he now?” Elvis rumbles and Daisy feels the unintentional bite of his nails on her knee.

“Well yeah, he does and -always has.” Daisy insists as if the past and present existence of Brando’s opinions on Elvis’ wife makes shit any better, Daisy knows it the second she lets it out that it’s not exactly balm on the scab.

Her voice doesn't make anyone look away from mama and her perfect, frozen face, carefully neutral and soothingly disinterested in the topic.

“That man has only ever called me, Elaine.” mama laughs an airy, dismissive little thing and the bite of Daddy’s rings on Daisy’s knee loosens their grip. “And if he thinks i'm a Wendy -he should say it to my face.” she jokes and Jesse predictably lets out a pained laugh of solidarity.

“-A-a-and w-who the hell did ya get to sew all those recreated outfits, girl?” Daddy is suddenly back on the original topic with a burst of renewed incredulity at her gall and Daisy knows she can use this to her advantage, get him arguing about fashion, tailors and supporting local folks instead of berating her for her lyrics and-

-Ella watches as Elaine’s stiff face smoothes into relief and she lays her head back against the rocker’s cushion and closes her eyes against the hubbub that’s no longer pertinent to her. Not for the first time Ella wonders if mama is as burdened as she is with thoughts and feelings married women shouldn’t have, they really shouldn’t. Marriage should cure a woman of them but Ella had them all alone on the ranch with her husband gone and Mama had Marlon and his lingering looks and her frozen face whenever his name gets mentioned and mama who is staring up at the ceiling like she’s no longer in the room with them at all.

“Peter Pan, Peter Pan, little lost boy actin’ like a big man,” only Marlon could have made that rhyme sound like anything but a goad, only Marlon really saw what Elaine saw when Elvis was sated, pliable, sweet as a newborn and pretty a sin. “Those producers who’ve got him playin’ tough n’ shit don’t know his appeal, they just don’t get it. Goddamn Peter Pan.”

And he had run his fingers over Elvis’ face, catching his drooping eyelids and pulling them down and over his nose to those cherub lips. And Elvis’ eyes hadn’t opened again till next morning when he woke in angry panic.

Elaine stares at the ceiling and feels Danny shift against her breast, snuggling closer, and she wonders if Elvis ever recalls that night like she does. Ever replays it a million times.

Wendy, Wendy Wendy.

Marlon thinks she’s Wendy, Marlon’s told her own daughter that. But never her. No. He’d just raked his hand through the wrecked coiff of Elvis’ gelled hair and admiringly called him Peter Pan. And Elvis, being Elvis in the state of freshly loved and freshly praised, never balked at it before drifting to sleep in their muggy tent.

Wendy, Wendy, Wendy, he never called Elaine that to her face.

Elaine catches Daisy’s eye next time she looks away from the ceiling, an odd moment of recognition. Funny how each child knows a part of her, but it’s the inner workings of Daisy’s curious, generous, honest self -a heart so very like Elvis’ own- that can look back at Elaine and smile at her, while knowing her fully, faults and all. It’s not so bad having grown daughters as a friend, Elaine decides as she watches Elvis flail backwards against the couch to laugh at his daughter's good natured dig at his unmodified wardrobe.

It’s good not to be his only Wendy keeping him young anymore.

Song based on: Wendy by Maisie Peters

Tags:

@powerofelvis

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————————-

@mydarlingelvis

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#elvis fanfiction #elvis presley #sarge update #sarge & lil mama #Elvis Au #Elvis #elvis the king #elvis presley x reader #elvis presley fic #elvis presley fan fic #elvis presley fanfiction

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sagesilentfire · 7 months

Text

Hello, everyone. It's so strange to be saying this, but the last part of SAMATFOE is imminent, and we're getting closer and closer to the End. It's been a really fun five years. (Four to ya'll, but I've been working on this for longer than I've been talking about it publicly!) The cast of characters has expanded dramatically, I've gotten much better as a writer and artist, and I feel I've grown as a person too. I won't stop stalking the svtfoe tag or talking about svtfoe after this is done, don't worry, but I have a lot of non-svtfoe related plans in the future, so if you like Sílthéy and her weird siblings, don't stop following when SAMATFOE is over.

But as for the actual contents of s5, well, I've got lots of plans. We've got a dark magic plague that's an incredibly transparent metaphor for climate change. We've got Mina playing the oil barons and trying to stop everyone from saving the world for her own personal gain. We've got Glossaryck (capitalism). We've even got the answers to a lot of mysteries and character arcs. Like, so many character arcs. It has been incredibly difficult to stuff all these character arcs into this far-too-short piece of fanfiction. But I hope I did that adequately.

On a personal note, while hiring a beta/sensitivity reader for a piece as massive as SAMATFOE proved impossible for someone who does not own their own money, I have done a lot more research than I had at seventeen. I wanted the monsters to be more than just badly-done allegories for Native Americans – I wanted them to be people with their own culture, history, and ideas. People who are inspired by real-world Indigenous cultures, but, because they're literally nonhuman, are distinct from them. Whether or not they could count as Indigenous is discussed in-text, but I do not come to an actual conclusion because I want my readers to draw their own. It's not my place to say whether colonized space aliens could be Indigenous. And their connection to the land and to magic is drawn from their shared knowledge, not mysticism, and their culture is idealized because a caring godlike entity helped them to that, not because they're better than anyone. I hope to demonstrate that they are all people, first and foremost. Because we're going to be spending time in Septarsis! So much time! And Toffee has officially been promoted to main character status! It's Star and Marcie AND the Forces of Evil, babey!

But there's a lot of characters here. So, for the second and final time,

Dramatis Personae:

Star - Star doesn't know what to do. She has everything she ever wanted, even if she doesn't realize it. She has no future responsibilities, having passed that to Eclipsa, but she is still special and important, being the most powerful magic-user ever to exist and the only one who can fix the dark magic, and Toffee doesn't even seem to hate her. Sílthéy does, though, and that is a sticking point. Star is much less oblivious now, though even her oblivious former self would probably pick up on the bad vibes Sílthéy is actively sending her way. She wants everyone to see how hard she's working to make everything better, but Sílthéy doesn't, and that is unbearable. Add that to Shinjai avoiding her and Marcie growing distant, and she has very little time for introspection, even if that would help fix things.

Marcie - Marcie is done with Mewni. She can't believe she believed the Butterflys' lies for so long. She's going to devote herself to Septarsis as fervently as she did Mewni. She just... she doesn't want to bother anyone, or take anyone's time. Why should she get attention paid to her, when there are stronger and smarter magic users out there who could do so much to actually help the world? Marcie is small and useless, and clearly so easily tricked. Better to work on herself before she brings anyone else into her orbit. Also, Star keeps making bad decisions, and Marcie's boundaries are pushing her away too... maybe it's better to do everything alone.

Ludo - Ludo is having a great time! He's earned the trust of some of the monsters in the Avarius village, his plumbing has been fixed, and Pemma is teaching him how to use the Avarius Beacon! Certainly nothing bad is going to happen to him or anyone he cares about! :D

Buff Frog - I'll confess here: Buff Frog is not a huge part of s5. He'll appear in the finale, but he's not a fighter anymore, and lives a peaceful life in Septarsis. He still has fond feelings for Star, but he's not too worried about her. She's strong, and he has twelve young froglets to take care of. She'll be fine on her own... right?

Toffee - Una'met Co'tzin-Nekohtzaca, Last Child of Old Septarsis, The Forces of Evil, Kéta'cha For the Dragon of Space, is doing FINE. They're definitely not five bad seconds away from a total mental breakdown, definitely not, that would be bad for everyone involved, and they are a calm, peaceful, certified not-doing-bad-things-er. The fact that everyone is almost certainly going to die a horrible death from dark magic is fine. They just have to cram thirty-plus years of training into the rapidly-dwindling time before the entire multiverse is dead. They barely know Star Butterfly, except that she's too good for things like "basic training" and "reading." How are they going to do this? And why won't Sílthéy tell them why she caused this in the first place? Well, they do know one thing, which is they can't tell Star about that.

Jackie - Jackie is done with Star Butterfly. She's talked to... someone, and done some digging, and that only served to verify the book she was given in s4. She doesn't know anything about Mewni save for what the book told her, but she can't believe that she trusted the family that doomed her dimension.

Janna - Janna doesn't like this apocalypse. No chance of survival is boring. So she's going to do what she can to help out. Also, she's been keeping her own secrets, secrets that might hold the key to survival.

Tom - Tom isn't angry anymore. He's not angry at Eclipsa for keeping Miquiz locked up, he's not angry for the Butterflys for spreading the dark magic that's thrown the Underworld into chaos, he's not angry that he keeps being left out of things. He's. Not. Angry. Anymore!

Moon - Moon didn't kill her mother. She didn't. It was Toffee, Toffee who couldn't come up with some loophole, Toffee who couldn't forget a conversation that happened when they were a child, Toffee who aimed the arrow at Comet's chest. And her holding onto anger isn't what's driving Star away from her, it's Toffee. They're the one driving her daughter away from her! But as cold reality and remaining dark secrets loom behind her, her brittle facade is beginning to crumble.

Glossaryck - Glossaryck misses when he and Star got along. Yeah, he's destroying her dimension, and everyone in it, and her, all to win kudos from his family, but it really sucks that Star won't give him the time of day anymore. He used to be her wise old mentor! Geez, she was going to die anyways, that's what mortals do! Might as well get along before it happens!

River - River is tired of being left out of the loop. He doesn't know what's going on. He doesn't know what to do. Moon barely speaks to him, she's always busy with Eclipsa, or whatever. But he might be the thing Moon needs, if she would only let him in.

Angie - Angie doesn't know if she should have had Mariposa. Sure, Mari is wonderful, and she loves her, and she DID NOT have a baby to replace Marcie dear god why were the svtfoe writers like that – *ahem* but the multiverse is ending, and Mariposa is just a baby... she didn't want to bring a baby into this world just to have them all die.

Rafael - Rafael is worried about Star. He's worried there's nothing he and Angie can do to help her. He's worried about Marcie. She seems really stressed about the dark magic. But he's the calm, goofy dad, so he's going to keep being that, and praying it'll help somehow.

Mariposa - Mariposa is fresh to the world, and doesn't understand much of anything yet. But everyone is worried she won't survive long enough to understand the world at all.

Kelly - Kelly is chilling. Apparently Star and Marcie are off on a trip to Septarsis, but that's none of her business as long as art classes and hangouts with Nova and Jorby go well. She might drop by to visit, though.

Miss Heinous - Saint Olga is dead. Miss Heinous's one reason for existing, her greatest love and greatest enemy, the robot who raised her, is dead. What does Miss Heinous do now?

Meteora - Meteora's doing great. She's won popular opinion, she's training to be a true Crown Princess, or at least a high-ranking official, if Sílthéy's democracy takes off. She's stepped into her role as a leader, far more than her mother could claim. But that's fine. Not everyone is suited for leadership.

Eclipsa - Eclipsa has an albatross around her neck. She is doing her best to ignore it, to be a good queen, to love her people, but... she cannot get away from the child she killed. Would it be easier if she was just always evil, not done one evil act out of rage and grief? Well, she knows what happened to her mother. What does she do now?

Globgor - Globgor is doing his best. He's a little miffed by Sílthéy mistrusting him, as her first big act of s5 will be to demonstrate how little he's valued as a Legitimate Voice of the Monsters, but really, who can complain. There's so much else going on, who cares if he fades into the background?

Shinjai - Shinjai gets the wand. Shinjai does not want the wand, and the circumstances surrounding her getting the wand are ridiculous, but she gets it, and she hates it, and she can't control it. Unlike Star, her inability to control the wand makes her not want to use the wand at all lest she hurt someone with it. Oh, and Star keeps wanting to teach her fun spells now that she's been handed this nuclear bomb of a magic wand, and Shinjai does not want to deal with Star. She hasn't forgiven Star. She doesn't want to forgive Star. She'll ignore Star as much as she can, and focus instead on Alice and the teen militia, which is much more fun. She loves Alice. She loves learning to fight, learning to battle the most dangerous people in the multiverse and win WITHOUT the help of a wand. She'd be doing great, if her past would stop knocking at her door.

Rasticore - Rasticore's worried about his partner. Una is fraying at the seams trying to fix everything, and he has the feeling they're not telling him something. But what else is new? He'll wait. He has friends to make, a new teenage militia to help train, and a Miss Heinous to keep from destroying Septarsis stone by stone. He's endlessly patient. When Una wants to talk to him, he'll be there for them. He just... has... to... wait...

Mina - Mina is trying to destroy the world. She doesn't tell her followers that, no, they don't even know the dark magic is a thing, but she wants Glossaryck to win and the Solarian Age, of which she is the last remnant, to end everything with it. So she'll destroy the world, and fulfill Solaria's dream of taking the Forces of Evil with her.

Lilacia - Lilacia is, somehow, a spoiler. Like, legitimately, the Princess Formerly Known as Ponyhead's role in s5 is a spoiler, and not for magic power-up speech cliché reasons. But she's still her dumb, ditzy self, of course.

Still Unnamed Mystery Character - "Stella" is still mysterious, but I promise you we'll get who she is and her backstory in this part ;)

Alice - Alice is wary of the new Mewman presence on the outskirts of Septarsis. She knows why they're there, but she's still extremely suspicious. She does not want them to hurt Septarsis. But she doesn't know that the true danger comes a little closer to home.

Teyauh - Teyauh is also a spoiler, but she'll be there!

Linda - Linda loves her wife, and will follow her anywhere, but Teyauh will have to accept that her knees don't work how they used to, so Linda will have to follow in a suit of POWER ARMOR, BABY!

Nova - Nova is part of the Nuxalkmc, an Indigenous tribe native to the Northwestern Turtle Island, and she loves that about herself. Now that Kelly and her dimensional scissors are here, she can finally explore the multiverse to find new places and see if they're anything like home. Septarsis is one of those places, and she loves it at first sight.

Dr. Edevane - Dr. Edevane is a doctor. He and Toffee have a lot to nerd out talk about together. He will be useful, too.

Dennis - Dennis is busy reigning in dozens of siblings, including Ludo. It's a busy life, but a happy one. Nothing bad whatsoever will happen to him! (I'm lying)

Chloe - Chloe doesn't know this "Star Butterfly" person, but she's very suspicious. But man, Mewni would be such a cool place to visit... so much magic! ...No, she needs to concentrate on being mad. And she is mad. She wants Earth to be like Mewni, like it deserves to be.

Hekapoo - Hekapoo doesn't like her dad's plan. He says it'll work out, it's fine, but the plan is... questionable. She doesn't like it. And she definitely isn't getting conflicting feelings about puppeteering her brother around, either...

Rhombulus - Ṯ̶̡̧̧̡̧̠͉̻̦̜̭͚̰̪̣̬̠̦̲̹̯̯̮̹̰̺̣̳̬̳̬͙̙̞̹͚͖̼̲̰̼̻̭͇̘̻̹͔̝͌͐̀̇̓̀́̄̇̓̊̚ͅH̶̛̠̽̎̇̽̉̃̔͒̽̈́͌͝Ȩ̸̢̧̛̛͔̭͍̪͈͚̮̘͙̭̳͍̺͖̗͇͍̘̱̉̽͑̆̌̓̆͛̓̌̈́̐̾͑̅͂͗̔̽̌̋̈́̎̈́́̓̓͌̆̄͐̀̋̅͂̒̓̔͗̈͊̊͆̄̒͘͘̚͘͝͝͠͠͠͠ͅ ̷̧̪̰͈̺̯̳̙̳̹̙̣͔̗̜̫̗̲̠̙̝̠̯̻̯̩͈͇͉̞̙͙͈̲̻̹̰̳̣̤̣̀́̐͆͜͜͜ͅͅK̵̨͎̙̩͓̘͇̳̩̲̝̳̼̖̯̘͖̹͙̪̰͙͔̤̭̘͖̖̪̬͓͚̫̦̝̠͍̙̊͛̏̈́͛́̒̈́͂͜͜͜͝ͅÍ̸̡̧̨̨̥͍̮̮͇̟͈͙̩̥͙̥͖͚͉̬̟̻̹̰̟̘͓̪̦̹͈̺̤̜̣̺͉̘͕̮̲͓̳͍͈͍̜̯̯̘̪͙̩͛́̐̆̈́͗͋̔̐̒̌̚͜ͅT̵̨̟̲̑̅̑̕̚T̶̨̨̨̛̞͖̻̖̞̹̜͉̦͓̣̠̗̘̣̺̲̹̘̻͎̤̝̤̜̞̜̳̭͎̲͙̮͓͕̼͇̘̃̈́̑̅͐̆͛͊̎̀̈́̔̐̂͛͒̎̕͜͜Ę̴̟̻͍͓̲̙͙̬̺̖̘͎̺̯͐̍̀͊̊̃̃̐̒̊̽̅̉̒̇̎̒͗͆̓͋͂̍̎̈̓́́͌̈͌̕͘̕̕͜͝͝͠͝͝Ņ̷̡̥͕̞̘͙͇̪̺̯͕̪͖̗̙͖̭̻̳͙͖̯̺̟̳̟̪̼̤̞̘̯̘̥̏́̊̾̓̀͐̑̈́͛͊͜͝͝͝S̸̨̨̨̡̤͕͚͈̻̯̫̯̦̖̣͈͔͉͚̠̪̮͚̳͈͇̯̱̯̙̙̬͎̝̪̬̦̙͇̝̲̤̰̃͒̓͒̾̀̋̎̊̈̀́̐̎̇͜͝ͅ ̵̧̧̛̣͉͕̤̻͔̰̜̺̮̘̞̠͓͚̹̗͒͐̽́̆̈́́̏̀̎̋͌̔́̌͗̎̍̉̀̃͌͂̎̽̿̃͂̎̽̌̈́̄́̀́̓̿̅́̎͆̾̆͑͌̔̿̑́́̕̕̕͝͝͝M̸̢̡̨̭͓̘͙̟̩̦͎̤̟̮̤͍͔̝̑̀̅̊̑̊́̂̈͑̽͋̃̑͋͐̆͆͊̈́́̋͑̋͜͝I̸̡̛̖̺͇͎͕̗̹̦̦̻̻̙͈͔̮̭̤̺͚͙͙͖̱̙͚̣̼̠̺̘̐̄͋͒̒͗̎̓͐͗͛̊̀̓̄̅̆̇̐͒̄̌̔͗̒̎̃̒̊̍̋͐̊͛͘͠͝͝͠S̴̨̡̡̨̲̖̺̭̺̱̰͎͓͇̰̙͙̩̯̺̖̲̥̜͖̦̙̹̜̻͙̠͉͇̲̲͍̞͚̭̯͕͋͐̌̾̈́̄͐̇̔͜͝͝Ş̴̢̨̢̝̬̤̯̗̞̳̟̞̲̠̮͇̻͙͖̻̜̺̘̑̑̆̈́̇͋͗͒͒́̅́́̚̕͝ ̷̨̡̡̛̛͚̩̣̠̠̹̘̟̼̘̤͇͖͓̙̺̙̮͚̫̺͖̠͇͙̏̆̋̆̀̅̓̔͋̐̐͛̃̾̃̿̓́̑̇̏̈̉͊̂̍̾͑̐̈́̀̑͑̈́̏͗̇͋̀̆́̍̊̃̀͐͘̚̚͝͝͝͠͝ͅͅḨ̶̨̧̻̺̟͚̠͍̗͙̗̹͇̗̦͔͕̮̦͖͔̝͚̟̖̖͉̾̔͒̓̋̀̔̅̿̈̑͆̀̇̇̄̈́́͋̿͐͆̔̂̈́͋̈́̊̊̈́̓̈́͋̕͘͝͝͝I̷̡̡̢̨̹͎̼̻̖̗̭̫̩̣̬̻̦̠̗̰̥͕̗̟̯̰͉͙̯͖̦͚̟̖̞͍̦̙̯̲̲̖̲̲̜͚̓̍͜ͅM̶̧̡̢̧̧̙̥̭̲̖̦͙̘̙͈͓͖̩̜̦͍̦̘͍̘͕̳̜̱͚̥̹͓͕͉͔͕̫̺̮͕̳͖͉̭̺͙̠͖̥͕͖͙̜̉͑͛̎̓̈́͐͋̐̀̏̊̀̽͋̈́͊̄͌̋̌̐̓̄̉̓͒̕̕͝͠͠͝ͅͅͅ

Reynaldo - Reynaldo looks and looks and he does and does, but he does not win this bet. It is the thing he wants most, that he will do all sorts of terrible, horrible-things-that-make-him-want-to-throw-up to get. What is it?

Omnitraxus Prime - Omni will do anything to protect the multiverse. Including trusting zir dad, who is looking more untrustworthy by the day, and trusting Mina, who was never trustworthy in the first place. Mina has much more training than Star, and strong magical ability from spending three hundred years close to the wand, and it's the best option... right?

Necahua - Necahua is a mess currently, and being a mess leaves you more open to mistakes. Uh oh! Una still loves them, though.

In fact, I made a short story in my creative writing class about the relationships between Una'met, Necahua, and Cayeto, since I feel they got overlooked in the main story. Yes, no one in my class had any idea what was going on. I'll post it next, before chapters 1 and 2 of s5.

Cayeto - Cayeto is also in the short story. He doesn't play a huge role in the main plot, but he is just another reason Toffee does the things they do. He died hoping that Una and Necahua, specifically, survived, and Necahua died, so he does not have the best grip on reality.

Xocochiapal - Xoco is the de-facto ghost leader of the ghosts now. No legislation without representation, right? Toffee does most of the work, but she's in charge when they can't address a thing right away. She was right despite everyone else blindly going to their deaths, and now everyone knows it. She also was the highest-ranked Septarian to become a ghost, and her hatred of the Mewman occupation is a clear and strong motivation.

Tecoloa - Tecoloa is the voice of reason. The good one. She died protecting her elementary school class from the worst of the heat, and that caring nature has translated into protecting everyone she can.

Sílthéy - Sílthéy is a character now, and OH BOY is she happy about it. She hates Star and will never get over it, and she loves to remind Star of that fact. She feels immense guilt for what happened with Septarsis, and will never get over that, either. She is a mess, but she's been hiding her messiness for 0/0 years, so she's a pro. And it's not like anyone here can stop her from being a mess, can they? So she'll go on being a mess in her corner, and she'll be fine. Her hobbies include storytelling, dissing Star, and doing the most bizarre stuff in the background of any given scene. She owns her weirdness. She's annoying, but that just makes her more fun to write.

Mocel - Mocel is mad at Eclipsa. She's mad at all Mewmans, really. She cares a lot about Miquiz, and she hates that he's locked up while she, with her lightweight ash body, can sneak out whenever she likes. The world isn't fair, and she knows it.

Miquiz - Miquiz is dying a second time. The dark magic wound on his chest is expanding. He doesn't want to leave, not without seeing the sun again, but he may not have a choice. He doesn't want to leave without saying something to Eclipsa, but again, no choice. He doesn't know what to do.

Tecolo - Tecolo is just vibin. He wants to see Ludo again, and he will, but he's mostly busy having fun with his dead and living relatives after centuries floating in the void.

#svtfoe #svtfoe critical #svtfoe negativity #svtfoe rewrite #svtfoe salt #star vs the forces of evil #samatfoe #art #my art #my posts #update #sunday: i'm posting the short story. two weeks after that s5 officially begins.#queue queue

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fordtato · 7 months

Note

Gffan has done the following:

-Letting people comment transphobic stuff on his Server

-associating with a reddit mod whos known to be transphobic

-openly showing weird distaste for the Dipper being Trans headcanon (didn't he also say: "I hate the Dipper Trans Theory" to us once?)

He also believes there’s only 2 genders

Hello. So. I do not normally respond to anonymous discourse like this in my inbox as a rule (especially given this site's proclivity for seeing anon callouts weaponized against trans people and women and people of color), but I felt it was important to do this in this case, since I am publicly working on a project with ThatGFFan.

I have known GFFan for over a year now now (in an exclusively online capacity), and in that time, he has not only never misgendered me (a nonbinary trans person, someone outside the "2 genders" framework) but has also actively corrected people who have misgendered me. I have witnessed him speak against transphobia in the fandom and against transphobic content creators. The idea that he "believes there are only 2 genders" is inaccurate by every account I have of him.

As for other accusations in this ask, such as him "associating with a reddit mod who is known to be transphobic" I don't have any evidence for this presented to me, and even if I did, association in a public online space is not the same thing as sharing transphobic sentiment. There is room in any online space for a conversation about the optics of this kind of engagement, but if I had to apologize for every person I've ever engaged with civilly who I later learned was problematic in some way, I'd be here all day, and that would be an unproductive use of my time, and would not undo any harm done by that person.

Lastly, I hope ThatGFFan will not mind me saying this, but he is a young person (younger than you think, I assure you). If he has engaged with unsavory people in the past, or has indicated any kind of transphobic sentiment (neither of which I have any evidence of) it is my belief that we need to allow people to grow, especially when I have actively witnessed that growth firsthand. And in that case, I do think (and maybe I'm putting my faith in the wrong person here, so I hope this doesn't bite me one day), that he has made an active effort to learn how to do better, even if he makes mistakes in that process.

What you have done, anon, is entered my inbox with accusations against a person of color, half of which have no evidence behind them, and the other half that I personally know to be demonstrably false. Nobody who is a victim of this transphobia has come forward, at least that I saw, and if they did, that would be up to ThatGFFan to respond to - not me, a trans person unrelated and far-removed from whatever incident you are talking about (an incident that likely occurred when ThatGFFan was a minor, in any case).

I don't have a big platform. I am a small creator (much smaller than ThatGFFan), and a trans Palestinian person. Why am I being called upon to answer for a cis person's (alleged) missteps as they grow into an adult? Why am I being called upon to publicly shame and renounce a person who has shown me kindness and allyship? Is it so I can prove my dedication to the fight against transphobia? My entire blog, my entire body of work, my entire existence, has been an active fight against transphobia.

I mean, by God, all I can do is hope I'm doing the right thing here, but I vouch for him. Or I at least vouch that he is trying.

(p.s. I hope this goes without saying, but someone disliking a specific queer headcannon does not indicate one's political beliefs, and this is not going to be an accusation that I really engage with, because it sets a bad precedent. This is not a moral wrongdoing. This is an opinion you are suspicious of.)

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sgiandubh · 4 months

Text

Ad hominem

Alright, BIF. I let you shine your yellow light all night long on your blog. You specifically call me out as, at best, uninformed and at worst, a liar. It is my (legal, ethical, etc) right to answer.

You quote me and you add a long list of shippers who sent you comments and Anons, just to prove me wrong. It is your strictest right, of course:

This is exactly what I did write. But let's see a bit closer your 10 entries list. Curious people can check it here: https://www.tumblr.com/brian-in-finance/751660983126294528/kudos-for-saving-all-these-comments-and-anons-bif?source=share:

Out of those 10 entries, 7 are made before I entered the fray - unless you think I am a maniac, I had no clue about it. Out of those 7, #4 at least was written by a person I blocked myself. And #7 is anything but hateful (SHW does not need another lawyer, of course, but it stroke me as very representative of what you people do ALL THE TIME) - it is simply a decent, but firm answer:

If a different opinion is 'sowing hate or spreading doubt', kudos to you, lady, indeed. But let's continue, shall we?

Entry #8 is an Anon. God only knows who wrote it. Perhaps a shipper. Perhaps one of your people. Perhaps yourself. It's not unheard of, after all. I never did anything remotely like that on my own page. Sending myself Anons is simply idiotic (hell, I never sent any Anon after starting my own blog, for that matter). I have no idea who dunnit. Anons are Anons. And it is a nasty one. Unnecessarily so. Entry #10 is also an Anon, so same modus operandi by you, here: you include something impossible to prove conclusively. And you know it. Entry #9 is by someone I have no way or wish to identify (typical sock account avatar, so probably one of those) and who called you 'dumb' on your own page. She shouldn't have. It is naive at best and disingenuous at worst. It's poor taste, indeed and it brings absolutely nothing to the table. That person should have written a post about it on her own blog - but I am not that person, BIF, so 🤷‍♀️.

That being said, let's see how your ever serviceable friend, Miss Marple, does in the calumny department. Before anything else, it is absolutely correct she NEVER leaves comments on adverse pages. She just loses her temper, from time to time, on her own page - don't we all?

She writes in her long reblog of your post (FYI, the correct term is 'beliefs', not the one being used):

Guess what? I also have a list, BIF. A list of personal attacks by this user. Directed at me. Maybe it's not as long as yours, but it is there, alright. I have often thought of compiling it, but somehow never got around to it. I am not going to post it, because I do not want you people to cannibalize my time. From calling me a nut case, to comparing me to Emily White, to accusing me of insulting her deceased mother, to belittling me, to publicly denouncing me towards a third party, I have seen it all from that woman.

One more time - what she thought to be a personal insult to her mother, is in fact an idiom:

I used it to mean she would do just about anything to achieve clicks and traffic. But hey, for sure, victimization is a way better strategy.

Your problem with me is a personal one. That goes for both of you. But it just goes to show how intolerant you are towards different opinions, how irritated you are when you are called out for being wrong about things and ultimately, how terribly useless this whole thing is.

Below is something to reflect upon, BIF. Not about your reliable friend, but about another troll. Her Opinions Only, of course 🐮:

That is all. You do you, all of you, by all means. But whenever you mention me, you should expect an answer. For the time being, this is my response to you.

#fandom #shitshow

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butmakeitgayblog · 3 months

Note

In Starlet AU, you mentioned they break up and get back together a few times before finally deciding to be together. What is that moment that finally clicks for them to decide this is it, through hell or high water we’re in this together? Do they see other people in between?

Yeah they break up several times during the beginning part of their relationship for one reason or another, though mostly it's out of fear. Fear of being found out, fear of committing to this thing that feels so fucking big in the universe, when just last year they'd both been telling themselves they'd never jeopardize their careers for anything.

Fear of ruining the most deeply intimate and profound friendship either had ever had.

There were so many moving parts to their lives and always felt like one wrong breath out of place would ruin everything. So inevitably, one or the other would get skittish and bolt because that was what they were used to doing.

In that time tho, they never stopped talking. Even at their worst, they never went a day without reaching out. Even when all they could manage was nothing more than a "good morning" and and answered "good night". Even when it hurt, even when they were so fucking mad they just wanted to punch something, even when they were heartbroken to the point they'd just sit in silence on the phone and cry. They still were each other's person who they reached out to.

But even during that mutual pining mess of a situation, they both tried to move on, yes. Clarke does go so far as to casually date someone for a few weeks - and does sleep with them, but regrets it (and continues to for the rest of her life despite knowing that, technically, at that time she didn't owe Lexa anything) because she did it for all the wrong reasons. Lexa being a lesbian and closeted doesn't afford her the same luxury of being so bold in her attempts to unattach, but she does somewhat drift back toward an old fling that she knows won't mean anything, nor will it raise any questions publicly.

But... she knows Clarke knows what it means when they're seen together. She knows Clarke remembers their confessions of how they used to handle the loneliness.

Is it petty?

Maybe.

Is it genuinely Lexa searching for solace in her pain?

Absolutely.

Is it also what inevitably leads Clarke to calling Lexa at 3 o'clock in the morning and confessing that she can't do this? That she can't do this weird fucking thing where they're pretending to be just friends again. Because they're not just friends and they never have been, because she's been at least half in love with Lexa since that afternoon in the casting office's waiting room. Because she's been completely in love with her for well over a year now, pretty much since the second Lexa let her stand barefoot on her feet just to dance to some stupid song from her childhood while she clung to her and cried.

And to admit that she fucked up. She'd fucked up because she'd tried to move on like they'd agreed. That she'd kissed him, and she'd slept with him, and now she just feels sick all of the time. Every second. And she knows that Lexa already knows it, already saw them, but she just needed to say it herself, because it's not cheating but goddamnit it still feels like it. And that she understands whatever Lexa's done to console herself through this too because she knows, she knows, she knows how hard this has been. But honestly, no matter what Lexa and that fucking waste of a girl have done, she doesn't want Lexa to ever tell her about it. Because she'll get angry. And she'll want to be mean. And she'll be so jealous she knows she couldn't breath. So she'd rather just skip that part if they please possibly could, because she'd really really really rather just be in love with Lexa instead.

That call lasts until sunrise while Clarke bags up the majority of her clothes and important possessions, because it's the last sunrise they have ever share where Clarke doesn't own a designated side of Lexa's bed 👀

#anon #starlet au #i have the ask for their first time which I will write I just had a bad health night so I'm moving slow #but I'm getting to it

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do-it-for-the-fandom · 4 months

Text

Cloudy With a Chance of Murder.

Part I: leaving the crime scene.

Part II: the phone call.

Part III: a visit to the morgue.

Part IV: the lunch break.

Part V: lunch part II.

Part VI: the perfect cover.

Part VII: the storage closet.

Part VII: case closed.

These links are being a right pain atm, I'll fix them later sorry! But the link for part VII should be working and it should have all the other links if you need them! Thank you!

It was one emotional nose dive followed almost immediately after another. And another. And another.

But now, the case was closed. And she was spent; so drained both mentally and physically that she was almost certain she could sleep for a whole week.

If not for the mental images of Castle, straddled by a bikini-clad babe, engaging in what looked to be a very vigorous make out session. It replayed in her mind over and over again, offering her no respite; not even for a second.

You're all I will ever need or want.

She believed that, wholeheartedly. Still, the events of the evening had penetrated her heart like the bluntest of knives. She needed to slink away and mend her wounds: alone, like always.

"Walk you out?" Castle offered as she picked up a stack of files: her homework for the night.

She had no doubt in her mind that he knew she was struggling. He had a good poker face - much better than hers - but she could see it in his eyes, he wanted to talk, to sort things out. She just wasn't ready for that yet.

"Uh- no. Thanks. I'm good."

She watched, just for a split-second, as Castle's carefully crafted mask dropped and the concern - the fear that he had screwed this up already - became so evident. Her heart skipped a beat and she wanted to change her mind but then came the flashbacks; the lipstick smudges on her boyfriend's face, the women atop him whom only seemed frustrated by the sudden interruption. Nope, not tonight.

"Night guys," she said to all three of them.

It was final; decision made. She was going home alone tonight, the second time in as many days, with the crushing fear that maybe they were crumbling already.

She drove aimlessly for a while, not even sure where she was headed. It wasn't until she pulled up - a decision made on instinct, not plan - outside of the familiar apartment building that she began to understand what it was she needed right now.

Her best friend.

Lanie answered on the second knock; obviously not having expected a visitor at this time of night, but she didn't seem entirely surprised by Beckett's presence.

"Come in," she said softly before Beckett could find any words at all.

No greeting, no explanation as to why she was there, nothing.

Beckett moved further into the apartment, scanned her surroundings: TV on, throw blanket draped over the couch, half-empty glass of wine on the coffee table.

"Long day?" she asked her friend.

"Very," Lanie answered with a smile.

She walked past Beckett, into the living room, and turned off the TV. She sat on the couch, then patted the spot beside her in invitation.

Beckett hesitated for a moment - what was she even doing here? - but then relented and sat by her friend.

"What's wrong?" Lanie asked once they had settled.

"Nothing."

"Nothing?" Lanie arched a brow and Beckett could almost hear the do you think I'm stupid? accusation in the action. She shrugged and Lanie rolled her eyes. "So this has nothing to do with a certain someone's date tonight?"

Beckett bit her tongue, swallowed down the anger invoked by the damn incessant relaying of events in her mind. "How did you know about that?"

"I watch TV."

Of course. Because Kristina Coterra doesn't ask you out in private, she does it live on TV. She does it for the whole Country to see. She puts men who are publicly single but secretly dating their partner on the spot, making them make stupid decisions.

"And Javi told me," Lanie added, giving Beckett someone knew to aim her misplaced anger at.

Beckett sighed. "Of course he did."

"I was just curious as to why Writer Boy would be going on a date with Kristina Coterra in the first place," Lanie stated, not-so-subtly fishing for the confession they both knew she didn't actually need.

"Why wouldn't he?" Beckett pouted.

"So, we're still playing dumb," Lanie surmised. "Noted."

They sat in stubborn silence.

Lanie thought that if she waited, her friend would eventually cave and confess everything.

Beckett thought that if she waited, her friend would eventually cave and leave her be.

After two agonising minutes, they had their winner.

"Fine, don't tell me," Lanie groaned. "But whatever is or isn't going on, you should probably just talk to the guy. You know what Castle is like; he probably just did something stupid because in that weird little brain of his he thought it was the right thing to do."

Beckett took a long, slow breath. She hated when Lanie made a logical solutions seem so damn obvious, especially when it was so damn obvious but she was just too emotional to have been able to see it herself.

She rolled her eyes. "I never actually confirmed that I was here because of his date," she complained.

"You never actually confirmed a lot of things, doesn't mean I don't know it to be true," Lanie teased.

Beckett rolled her eyes again. "I'll leave you and your accusations in peace." She turned and walked to the door. As she left, she looked at her friend and smiled sincerely. "Thanks, Lanie."

#my drabbles #kate beckett #richard castle #caskett #castle #kate beckett x richard castle #castle fanfiction #castle fanfic

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star-girl69 · 2 years

Note

Aemond x reader

Aemond and reader are at a feast and courting to everyone’s knowledge another lady begins making brazen attempts and comments to Aemond about how much better she would be as a wife reader is jealous but is trying to be polite and not cause a scene Aemond is having none of it and publicly chastises/insults her for doing so especially in front of his love

If you could include the line “ im yours and your mine” between Aemond and reader that would be extra amazing

warnings: mentions of violence, swearing, fatphobia (maybe?), insults against reader, reader crying, tell me if i missed anything!

We Belong Together

—-

It had always fascinated you how easy it was to belong to someone. You belonged to your parents, yes, your siblings, in way, but to truly belong to someone- once you found that someone- was like a knife sliding through warm butter. Easy, natural.

To belong to Aemond, it was as if there was only him. You could not remember life before him, any man you had loved before, only him.

You had lusted after him for months, prolonging your stay at court to keep close to him. Then, by some chance, by some prayer, it happened.

—-

It was night when you came to the gardens. The moon was your only source of light- shining like a beacon in the sky. It illuminated his face, his hair- blowing around in the wind like an aura- and it hollowed out his cheekbones, making him look ethereal, something carved by the gods.

You gasped. “Prince Aemond- I’m sorry, I can leave,”

He shook his head, instead sitting next to you on the bench you occupied.

“What ails you?” He looked up towards the moon, and you found yourself tracing his jawline with your eyes.

“Nothing ails me, My Prince. I only came out for some air.”

He smirks, though it is not meant to insult.

“Everyone comes to gardens when something ail’s them.” You died answer, and he sighed. “My mother wishes to marry me to Lady Alys Rivers, that is why I have come out here.” Your heart dropped. He was to be married? But you pushed it away.

“That’s amusing. I’m out here because my parents wish me to marry as well.” He let out a dry laugh, eyes still fixed on the moon. “He is a nice man- a Baratheon lord- but, my heart belongs to someone else.” This peaked his attention, and he turned away from the moon.

“Really?” He drawled, but his voice was tight. “Who?”

“You wouldn’t know him,” You muttered, turning away embarrassed.

“Oh, don’t tell me it’s a commoner.”

“Gods, no. My family would disown me. It’s… the man I love is higher ranking than me. I do not know exactly, but I doubt it would be proper for us to marry.”

“Does he know?”

“I don’t think so.”

“My eye is trained on someone else, too.” You turned toward him, a questioning eyebrow raised. “But I doubt she even pays attention to me.”

You let a small laugh fell from your lips, and he looked at you with amusement. “What? It is true.”

You fixed your eyes on him. “Forgive me for being so informal, but you are the Prince. Handsome, brave. It’s impossible not to notice you. Whoever you have your eye on would be lucky to have you, My Prince.” He blushed slightly, muttering a quick thank-you.

You heart squeezed again, but you pushed it aside. If only to save yourself from the embarrassment of crying in front of him. The prospect of him being married threatened to tear you apart inside.

“I fear I will just always be the fool with a heart who betrays her.”

He turned back to you, some expression you couldn’t decipher on his face.

“You speak of me so sweetly, but it also applies to you. You are beautiful, Lady Y/N, and kind.” You blushed as he had done earlier, turning your head.

“Thank you, My Prince.” If only he wanted you like you wanted him.

“But you wish the man you love would say this about you, yes?”

“Don’t we all?”

“You’re right.” He stared at you, something like a war in his eyes. “The woman I love- she always seems to be just out of arms reach. Even now.”

“Is she to be married?”

“Mhm. I just learned of it.” You could see the sadness haunting his face, a ghost behind his eyes. You placed your hand on his thigh.

“I’m sure someone else will catch your eye.” He stared at your hand, something like disbelief on his face. You weren’t sure why, of course, but dismissed it.

“I don’t think anyone will. I don’t think anyone can.” You started to take your hand back, words on your lips. But he grabbed your hand, a frantic expression on his face. “Don’t.”

Maybe it was the expression in his eyes, the fear at your moving away. But you intwined your hand with his, blindly, not knowing what this meant.

He swallowed. “I have not been truthful with you.” Hope exploded in your chest, no matter how you tried to push it down.

“Yes?” Your voice came out eager, and you leaned in closer.

“The woman I love-” He stopped. “I should not, I’m sorry.” He did not move, did not pull his hand away.

“I won’t tell anyone. You can speak plainly, My Prince.” You were desperate to hear his answer, like you were starving and his words were sustenance. In a way, it was. He was. The only reason you lived, the only reason you breathed.

He stared into your eyes, speaking quickly, like he had to say it before the words burned him from the inside out.

“The woman I love is right in front of me, holding my hand, looking at me like she might love me too.”

Oh, and in that moment you swear you died.

“She does.”

With that confession, that confirmation, he connected your lips like a man starved, like he was drowning and you were air, like you were the sun, like you were his. Months and more of pining were exchanged through your lips, and you knew that he was your savior, all you would ever need.

In that moment, you truly started living.

—-

Since you came alive under Aemond’s touch, under his lips, he had treasured you like the most precious metal.

While your dowry and other things were still being negotiated between the crown and your father, you were thrust into the life of being Aemond’s. He was yours, and you were his.

Through you were not officially betrothed, and you both knew that things could change, he swore to you that he would not allow them to take you away.

Your father was more than happy to agree to the marriage, while Alicent took a little convincing. But you made a good first impression when Aemond introduced you, and Helaena seemed to like you as well. That softened her heart, and she eventually agreed to the marriage.

Now, you were one of the highest ranking ladies at court. Aemond acted as if you were already married, calling you pet names and kissing you unashamedly. You had separate chambers, but most nights you would be woken up by the feeling of someone sliding into the sheets beside you.

You knew that Aemond choosing you was unexpected, seeing as your house wasn’t very high-ranking. Many other ladies at court had wanted him for themselves, but they did not truly want him. They wanted power, money, and all you wanted was to belong to him. You needed him, selfishly, and knew that your relationship with him had made you a social pariah.

You were excluded from the activities you had done before, tea in the gardens with other ladies, gossiping in one of the parlors. You found yourself spending most of your time with either Aemond of Helaena. You enjoyed the company of Jaehera and Jaeherys, they were sweet children. Helaena was cryptic, and sometimes the way she acted confused you. But she was sweet, and you did truly like her.

Due to her personality and love of bugs, the other women at court excluded her as well. You became something like friends, and she told you often that she was happy you two were to be sisters.

Aemond loved to see you get along with his family, seeing as you were his family too.

Loving Aemond had made you lose everything, but gain something much more.

So when a Lady started glaring at you and Aemond during dinner, you were only slightly unnerved.

“Aemond, some lady is staring at us.” He leaned closer to you, looking out over the crowd.

“Who?” You wrapped your hand around his bicep, liking the feeling of his muscles.

“She’s in a green dress, over on the left.”

“Ah, I see. Lady Tyrell, I believe. Pay her no mind.” He pressed a kiss to your temple, and you leaned your head against his shoulder.

—-

It was much later when the Tyrell family approached to greet the royal family, and you paid it no mind. Simply digging into your mashed potatoes, Aemond’s hand on your thigh.

Lady Tyrell conveniently placed herself in front of Aemond, pushing her chest outward obnoxiously. He let out a huff only you could hear, keeping his cool for the sake of honor. You ignored her as well, while something like jealousy seeped into your veins.

“And we are most excited for the royal wedding!” Lord Tyrell proclaimed, turning towards the two of you. You caught Alicent’s eye, and she smiled.

Aemond gave a curt nod, cutting a slice of meat.

You smiled brightly, any talk of your wedding to Aemond always managing to cheer you up. “Thank you, Lord Tyrell. We are so excited to finally be married.” He gave a slight bow, before continuing a more business-like conversation with Alicent about Highgarden’s grain shipments to King’s Landing.

“Oh, Lady Y/N, I adore your dress!” Lady Tyrell reached across the table, adjusting the low collar, hands brushing across your chest. You could feel Aemond’s eyes on the spot she had touched, just on the top of your breast.

“Uh, thank you, Lady Tyrell. It’s one of my favorites.”

You let one of your hands fall to your lap, reaching over to grip Aemond’s hand on your thigh, squeezing.

He cleared his throat, noting your discomfort. “Yes, it’s quite beautiful, thank you, Lady Tyrell.” He turned back to his plate, and you hoped she would take the hint and at least take a few steps back.

“Of course, my dress is made of Meereenese silk, so…” She trailed off, playing with her own collar. Her chest was still pushed out, trying to draw attention.

You couldn’t resist. “Oh, Aemond just gave me one of those the other day. They’re most comfortable, aren’t they?” Aemond stifled a laugh as Lady Tyrell’s expression fell.

“Yes.. well,”

“Daughter, let’s enjoy the feast.” Her father placed a hand on her shoulder, and she put that confident smile back on her face.

“Of course, father. I hope I’ll see you two during the dance, hm?” She walked off, and you let out a breath.

“Well, she’s certainly something.” You played with your food, simply shifting it around your plate.

“If by ‘something’, you mean a jealous bitch, then yes.”

“Aemond!” You scolded, lightly hitting his hand. He smirked, looking quite proud of himself.

—-

The sun has started set, illuminating the hall in a soft golden glow. It was beautiful, and dresses and jewels sparkled in the light. You were entranced by it, and it drew you in like a bee to honey.

“Aemond, I wanna dance.” You shifted in your seat, turning to face him.

“Hm?” He turned towards you, placing a hand on your face. You were tempted to lean into it, but you wanted to dance, feel the glow of the sun on you.

“I wanna dance, Aemond. Please,” He smiled, thumb rubbing along your cheekbone.

“Of course, my love.” He stood up, offering you his arm.

Aemond could be cruel, cold-hearted, to anyone except you. He often told you that you were his sun the midst of the ocean. His beacon, who would always guide him back.

The tempo picked up as he led you to dance floor, placing his hands on your hips as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

You noticed as the sun hit the side of his face, illuminating him as the moon had that first night.

He noticed your staring, smiling slightly. “It is impolite to stare, my love.”

You just smiled.

—-

The tempo of the drums has long since shifted into a slower, more intimate pace. Strings joined, and you rested your head on Aemond’s shoulder as he danced you about. And like this, just like this, you felt higher than the sun and moon.

“Are you asleep?” His tone was lighthearted, amused. You opened your eyes, realizing he had steered you off to the side.

“No, Aemond. I am awake,” You couldn’t resist rolling your eyes. He squeezed his arms around you waist, and you smiled.

“She’s horrible!” You perked up at the shrill sound of Lady Tyrell’s voice. You twisted around in Aemon’s arms, so your back was pressed to his chest.

Lady Tyrell stood in front of you two, talking to another lady. Her back was turned, so perhaps that is why she thought it was safe to say what she said next.

“She’s an ugly cow, I swear. She does not deserve him, I do! I am more beautiful than her. Why did he not choose me, Serena?”

The other Lady shook her head, seeming to be at a loss for words.

“I would be a much better wife, wouldn’t I?”

Lady Serena nodded, mumbling words of agreement.

“I know I would.” She huffs, spinning around.

Her mouth opens when she sees the two of you standing there.

You are jealous, hurt, angry. Part of you wants to rip her hair out, but it was no use. You would just get in trouble, and possibly be bared from marrying Aemond. His arms are loose around you, perhaps shock, so it is easy to detangle yourself from him.

You grab his arm, trying to tug him with you. “Aemond, let’s just leave. Please.”

But he is a dragon, he is made of fire and blood, and his anger demands that same phrase. How dare this nobody of a woman speak about you this way?

“Lady Tyrell,” He starts, and you are whispering, pleading with him to just let it go. “Expect your permanent removal from court. I will hear no one speak about my love like this.”

She rushes forward, suddenly, grabbing his other arm.

“Do you not see? I am better than her. I will give you more children, true children, my great-grandmother was a Targaryen! We have the blood of the dragon in our veins, we are meant to be together!” She is pleading, but not desperately. She truly believes that she is in the right, that her and Aemond are meant to be together.

He rips his hand away from her like she is poison, mold spreading throughout the Keep.

“She is not worthy of you! See reason, My Prince, please.”

“You are a vile and disgusting woman. Get out of my sight and be gone from King’s Landing by the morning.” His voice drops to a whisper. “Or I will feed you to my dragon.”

She braces herself, sizing you up. Then, she turns and stalks through the crowd of dancers, disappearing.

You are inconsolable.

You turn and look at your beloved in his eye, while tears well in yours.

“You stupid man.” His expression drops.

“Y/N-” But you are almost running away from him now, tearing through the palace because you are a woman scorned.

You hear his footsteps behind you the entire way, feel his comforting presence. He stays far away enough that you do not feel the need to speed up, letting you calm down.

You do not know where you are going, trying to walk off your anger. You come to a dead end, look up and recognize that it is Aemond’s room. You look behind you, seeing his eye widen as he runs forward.

But you are already opening the door and slamming it into his face.

“Y/N!” He slams against the door, and the handle shakes as he tries desperately to open it. But you have locked it, and you are fried with anger and sadness. “Please, tell me what I have done wrong. I’ll amend.”

“You do not get it!” You slam your fist against the door, before falling against it. You let it take your weight, because it is like gravity does not exist anymore.

“Please, make me understand.” His voice is muffled, but you hear him. You would always hear him, through thousands of miles, through the heaviest storm. A door is no match for your love for him.

“I come from a minor house, Aemond. They could stop negotiating at any moment- end our courting.” Your tears are falling faster now, and your breaths come out faster. The prospect of losing him makes you break. “I- I- I c-cannot lose y-you, Aemond. You- you endangered us. Why-” Your breaths are too frantic now, tears too heavy to speak.

“Y/N, Y/N, my love. I’m sorry. It is my fault, I was angry- I- I did not think, but I will learn from this, I swear.” You retreat to his bed, enveloping yourself in his scent. He smells of smoke and some dark wood, he smells of home. “Will you let me in, now?”

You need him more than you need air, but you are mad at him.

Before you can answer, the door is opening and he is rushing in, a heavy set of keys dropping to the floor. His eyes scan around, before finding you on the bed. You sit up.

“Y-you are relentless.”

He smiles. “Only for you, my love.” He moves closer, and you let him. You cannot stay mad at him for long.

You know you are being irrational, but your love for him clouded your mind. You are just too scared to lose him. You should be thanking him for defending your honor, but you were foolish and overreacted, and now embarrassed.

“I’m sorry. I’m being stupid.”

He sits next to you, and you can tell that it is torture for him not to touch you, not to comfort you.

“I know where you are coming from. I understand.”

And then you look up at him, and he is kissing you like that first time. Like you were air and he was drowning, like you were the sun, like you were his. And now, you truly are.

He pulls away, pressing his forehead against yours. The kiss was salty, your tears still falling.

“You are mine, and I am yours.”

You nod feverishly. He has this way of making your beg for more with only a single kiss.

“I am yours, you are mine.”

—-

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x reader #house of the dragon

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garbagechocolate · 5 months

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hey choco, moot in crime i know i haven't really said much on the issue of solarmoon aro/acephobic publicly (don't wanna get harassed as a... mostly sure replused aroace) (plus, i don't have any crazy new insights) but man does it suck that you're going through harassment of any kind. like, genuinely. gonna keep this short (...kinda), but it's tiring to tab into the TSAMS fandom and still see traces of this. maybe this ask is makin it worse.. as someone who's indifferent to the ship, i can definitely understand being upset over the aphobic aspects. but what gets me is: do we really have to be harassing people for 1: pointing out problematic things 2: having different interpretations of solarmoon that aren't exactly like yours?

anyway if i see one more anon talking about stupid "leave solarmoon alone you're making us look bad" i am going to get them with a lance, 3 sticks of dynamite, a beehive and some peanut butter <3

I have anons turned off (as you can see) so I'm just gonna answer your ask so that your take goes into the wild!!!

#trashlate #ask #creampuff #solarmoon debate

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mothbart · 5 months

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12 days of kolowv: day 7

my baby @theapocryphaofantares's birthday is in seven (!!!) days, and because i love him with all my heart he gets a small microfic every day until he gets his big present on his actual birthday.

prompt: scorch | bartylily | words: 2,312 | explicit

The bludgeoning, bright sun is too much for Barty. He’s overheating, his hair is sticking to his face, and he wants nothing more than to dunk himself in a pool of ice water—maybe drown himself, too, while he’s at it.

It’s the annual neighborhood block party, something that Barty absolutely loathes. He doesn’t care about seeing his neighbors, let alone socializing with them. White plastic tables are littered with red, solo cups, and multicolored plastic chairs are scattered along the street. Aggravating, repetitive pop songs are being played from the large speaker that sits in the Vance’s yard, and the culmination of that along with roars of laughter and yelling makes his head want to explode. He’s tried going back inside the house multiple times, but each time his dad catches him, and an empty threat is thrown at him. So he’s sitting here in an old camping chair outside his yard, slinking down in his chair, miserable.

He’s staring at all of the people who are hanging out in the middle of the street, and he just doesn’t understand the appeal of pretending to like these people just so they can have an excuse to get publicly drunk. He’s itching for a cigarette, and the pack in his pocket is practically teasing him at this point. He looks around to try and find his dad, and when he does, he sees that he’s standing in a circle with a couple of other adults, chattering away. As he gets up from the uncomfortable, ripped-up camping chair, he feels his other pockets to make sure that he has his lighter with him, too. He makes his way through the crowd, trying to get out of the way of the running children with water guns and moms holding trays of lemonade.

However, he doesn’t do a very good job of being careful because he bumps into someone.

And that someone just so happens to be his neighbor, Lily Evans.

“Barty?” She asks, looking up and smiling at him. “What are you doing here?”

Barty takes a good look at the girl in front of him, and it takes everything in him not to start fucking drooling when he sees that Lily is wearing a tight, yellow sundress. Freckles sprinkled across her sun-kissed skin and her long, red hair is pulled into a high ponytail, and Barty wants to trace his fingers along her skin and tangle them in her hair.

“What are you doing here?” Barty asks her, not really wanting to answer her question.

“I’m back for the summer,” she says. “You know, summer break and all of that.”

“How’s college?” He asks, and he feels silly doing small talk but he doesn’t know what else to do. His brain is short-circuiting and it’s almost like he forgot how to form words and questions. There is only one person who has ever made him feel this way, and of course it’s Lily fucking Evans.

He never forgot the night when he gave Lily her first kiss on her sixteenth birthday, and if he’s going to be honest, he still thinks about it almost daily. They never really saw each other after that. Sure, they saw each other in the hallways here and there, but it was back to how it was—Lily ignoring him and Barty pretending that Lily Evans never existed despite him constantly thinking about her. Lily had given James another chance after he left her hanging that night, and Barty wanted to tell her that she deserved better than that.

But it’s not like he was able to give her anything better than what James offered.

“College is good,” she replies. “Is college good for you?”

“Yeah,” Barty says. He looks around, trying to find any excuse to get out of there. The more that he’s standing in front of Lily, the more he keeps thinking about her soft lips and the way that she tasted like strawberry lip gloss and it’s something that he wouldn’t mind tasting again. “Anyway, I’m going to go—”

“Where are you going?” She asks.

“I was going to go for a smoke—”

“Come with me,” Lily says, grabbing Barty’s hand. “You can help me make more lemonade.”

Before Barty can decline, Lily’s already dragging him to her house. He doesn’t miss the way that Lily’s dad glares at Barty when they walk past him in the yard, but he doesn’t give two fucks. He remembers that Lily told him a couple of years ago that her parents warned her that Barty was a bad influence, and ever since then, he couldn’t care less about what her dad thinks.

When they walk inside the house, it looks exactly like how it did when they were kids. The foyer is full of carefully placed family photos, tacky floral print wallpaper, and shoes neatly lined up on the shoe rack. Lily kicks off her sandals and doesn’t bother placing them with the others, so Barty follows what she does and takes off his shoes.

The music can still be heard from outside, and when Barty walks further into the house, it’s a little more quiet. Lily is standing in the kitchen, and she looks so beautiful here. There’s something with the way that her bare feet patter along the hardwood laminate floors while she’s grabbing the glass pitcher that makes Barty want to see her like this all the time.

“Petunia is supposed to be on lemonade duty, but somehow I got stuck with it,” Lily explains while she’s grabbing a bag of lemons. “Did you see her new boyfriend?”

“I haven’t seen her at all,” Barty answers. He walks over to where Lily is, stands right next to her, and leans against the counter. He’s watching her intently as she pulls out the cutting board from the dishwasher and places a few lemons on them. “How’d they meet?”

“They’re in some club together in college,” Lily replies, shrugging. “He’s okay. His name is Vernon.”

Barty snorts. “What kind of name is Vernon?”

“Same could be said for Bartemius,” Lily teases.

“Whatever,” Barty mutters. Lily lets out a giggle and starts to cut the lemons, she’s just cutting them in half and placing them carelessly on the counter—some of them hit the cutting board, and some kind of fall right near it. Lily is humming to herself as she’s focusing.

“Can you go grab the pitcher and fill it with water?” She asks, turning her head towards him. “I meant to do that earlier but spaced it.”

Barty nods his head, taking the pitcher that’s still full of ice and fills it up to the brim with water from the sink. When he carefully tries to walk closer to Lily to bring her the pitcher, she must not realize that he’s standing right behind her.

Because she walks straight back into him, and water backsplashes on Barty and some gets on the back of Lily’s dress. It takes everything in Barty not to drop the glass that’s in his hands, but his shirt is soaking wet and the crotch of his pants is wet, too.

Lily quickly turns around, looking at him in horror as she sees that his shirt is sticking to his skin.

“Barty, I’m so sorry!” She says loudly, grabbing the rag that was hanging from the oven. She frantically starts to dab the rag on his torso, as if that was going to do anything. “Shit, I didn’t realize that you were right behind me—”

“Lily, it’s fine,” he says, his voice calm. “I can just run home and get changed.”

“No, no, I think I have some clothes that might fit you,” she says, still dabbing the towel on him. She’s so close to him, and his heart is pounding. He grabs her hand, stopping her from trying to dry something that more than a rag will do. “Okay, yeah, sorry, just follow me upstairs.”

She tosses the towel on the counter and starts to make her way down the hallway and up the stairs, Barty following right behind her while also trying to minimize much movement considering everything that he’s wearing is fucking wet and cold.

When he said that he wanted to dunk himself in a pool of ice water, he didn’t mean it. He’d rather get burned from the sun than have cold water on his skin like this. Lily walks into the bedroom that’s on the left at the end of the hallway, and when she opens the door, her room looks different.

It seems like it’s the only place in the house that changed since Barty was here when he was a kid. Her pink walls were now white. The posters of popular boy bands were long gone, replaced by multiple cork bulletin boards that are covered of photos of Lily and her friends. Her bright pink, twin-sized bed was replaced by a queen bed with regular white sheets; her room just didn’t feel like Lily anymore.

She must have sensed that because after Barty walked inside, she shut the door behind him.

“My parents slowly are re-doing my room,” she explains. “Feels weird, huh?”

“Yeah,” Barty murmurs, walking up to one of the bulletin boards. He looks at the photos and it’s just Lily with some people he doesn’t even recognize. Some were people they’ve known since high school, but the others? They must be from college.

His attention gets drawn to Lily when she starts going through her closet and pulls out an over-sized t-shirt and a pair of old gym shorts. She hands them over to him, and he takes them with a confused look.

“Where the fuck did these shorts come from?” He asks, holding them up to show her.

“They’re from high school for gym class, see?” She points at the logo at the bottom left of them. “Anyway, I’ll turn around.”

“No need,” Barty says, as he tosses the dry clothes on the edge of her bed. Lily doesn’t move. In fact, she stares at him as he strips off his soaked shirt and tosses it on the floor. He can feel her eyes gazing at his chest, and he smirks. “Hey, Lily, eyes up here.”

She snaps back into reality and blinks a few times, looking at him. Her face starts to turn pink, and she bites her lip.

“Sorry,” she says. She takes a couple of steps forward, and Barty sucks in his breath when Lily starts to softly trace the tattoos that are on his chest. “These are new.”

Barty doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t know what to really say to her—so instead, he allows her to touch him, caressing her fingers along the black lines that are embedded on his skin.

He’s not sure what happens.

Because the next thing he knows, Lily is looking up at him like he’s a constellation in the sky—in awe and amazement and admiration. She goes on her tippy toes and her lips are ghosting over his and he’s having a hard time remembering to breathe.

“Can I?” She whispers, her eyes fluttering closed.

He doesn’t say anything, because he’s already beaten her to it. His lips are on hers, and it’s like everything has fallen right into place. Her lips still taste like the strawberry lip gloss from the first time they kissed, and it’s moments like these where he’s thanking whatever fucking deity exists that he gets to have another chance to kiss Lily.

It goes from soft, tender kisses to desperation and eagerness. It’s more frantic, and Lily shivers under his touch when he slides the straps of her dress off her shoulders. He kisses along her jawline, peppering them down her neck and to her shoulder. She tilts her neck, giving him more room to work with and he wants to leave a mark—wants Lily to have something to remind her of him.

But he doesn’t.

Instead, he brings his lips back onto hers, and she starts walking him towards the bed, their lips never leaving each other. She pushes him down on the bed, and before he can sit up, Lily is already straddling his lap.

He runs his hands up her thighs, and she gasps against his mouth and he takes that opportunity to slide his tongue over her teeth. Lily is sweet and tart and everything in between.

They take their time unraveling each other, finding ways to make each other gasp and beg and whimper. It’s roaming hands, flicking tongues, quivering thighs, sticky sheets, and Barty feels on fucking cloud nine. Lily’s soft moans and panting on repeat in his ear as she tells him to move faster, stay right there, keep going.

It’s pure ecstasy, the way that Lily’s tight around him, and the way that their movements are messy and urgent. It’s the way that Lily comes, the way that she shudders and the way that she says his name like she’s worshipping and praising him.

Lily Evans makes him feel on fire—with every touch, she’s burning him and creating her own mark on him—visible or not. His skin feels like it’s littered with scorch marks and when he tucks some of her fallen hair out of her face, he can’t help but want more.

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typingatlightspeed · 5 months

Text

TF2 Fanfic - Someone Else's Song Chapter 1

Engineer needs to do something about his crush on Spy. So Pyro convinces him to write him a love letter. Unfortunately, Spy reads way too deep into things and ends up spending a whole week trying to crack a code that doesn't exist. He also, somewhat to his consternation, ends up decoding his own feelings for someone on the team in the process. Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Ao3 Link!

I'll fully admit this one is dumb as hell but the fun kind of dumb where the mercs get to be little shits lol. Just, uh, ignore how Scout is better at reading in this than in canon. It's for the bit, dammit. Also spot the Simpsons joke!

---------

Pyro looked from the page in his gloved hands—typed up on the publicly available typewriter in the rarely-used records office on base—to Engineer, who was doing his level best to avoid eye contact, his face bright red as he inspected contents of his coffee cup like the answer to all of life's questions was hidden beneath the last dregs of the beverage inside. "I mean, the wording definitely doesn't sound like you, so between that and typing it instead of handwriting, I don't think he's gonna guess from that."

Engineer sighed a little, relieved. "It don't sound like no one else on the team, does it?"

"Aside from maybe Spy himself? I don't think so." Pyro set the letter back down on Engineer's workbench. "It should keep him guessing. But if you don't give him any clues, how's he gonna guess it's you?"

Engineer mulled that over a little. "Him knowin' it's me is kinda what I'm tryin' to avoid."

"Knowing it's you and guessing it's you are two totally different things!" Pyro shook his head. "Look, I get that you don't think you've got a shot, but the whole reason I said a love letter was the best way to get these feelings out is because you can get a feel for whether he's interested or not! If you don't give him anything to go on, he's gonna give up, Engie!"

"This ain't a 'come an' get me' letter!"

"No, but if he's intrigued enough to try and find out more, then you know he's not turned off by the idea that someone on the team's into him! And if you give him just a few breadcrumbs, he won't be able to turn down a mystery. Hell, he might dig that, that you know him well enough to know he wants a little mystery, a little bit of a chase, right?"

"You know so much about him, maybe you should be movin' in on him, 'stead of me," Engineer pouted, setting his coffee down.

"Pfft," Pyro dismissed him with a wave of his gloved hand. "I don't go in for these backdoor shenanigans."

Rolling his eyes, Engineer set his hands on his hips. "Well what do you suggest, then?"

Pyro tapped at the filter of his mask in thought. "Well, you typed it up, so unless you wanna try sneaking down to the records room again without being noticed, I'd suggest something quick and simple. Maybe a signature? You didn't even put a pseudonym, or a title. Like, 'your secret admirer' or something!"

Taking the page from Pyro's hand, Engineer set it on his drafting table, looking it over in thought. Pyro was right. He was terrified that Spy would suss it out immediately and reject him outright. He wasn't exactly a man that shared similar tastes to the fancy Frenchman. In spite of himself, however, he couldn't help but get giddy at just the thought of those bright blue eyes, that strong, aquiline nose, the adorably silly way he snorted when he laughed too hard. How in the hell did he manage to turn from a hardened killer in his forties to a blushing schoolboy?

Seizing one of his drafting pencils, Engineer considered for a long moment. How would he sign this love letter? What identity would he give this fictionalized version of himself, a breadcrumb for Spy to cling to without fully giving himself away? With a sigh, he scribbled down the first thing he could think of that wasn't obvious.

"N.G.?" Pyro read, over Engineer's shoulder?

"Well it ain't like I could use D.C., that'd be a dead giveaway. Nobody on the team's got an initial in common. So I just pulled two letters that don't match anyone on the team at all."

Pyro turned to his friend and stared at him long and hard through darkened lenses. He shook his head. "Yeah, yanno what? Sure, fine, it works." He threw up his hands and walked off, utterly done. "Good luck, Engie."

"T—thanks, Py," Engineer replied, confused at his friend's response.

The next day's match was a late start, leaving everyone utterly exhausted by its end, which pushed into the twilight hours. More importantly, the late start left everyone champing at the bit to get going at its beginning, leaving Engineer ample chance to sneak the folded note into Spy's locker without anyone noticing.

When at last the final bell sounded and the day was called to an end, the team ambled in from the field, spent and sore. The day's mission had been a payload defense, which was always grueling work that lacked a finality and catharsis in victory that holding a control point, capturing points, or retrieving a briefcase full of intel would always bring. Instead, it was simply a matter of holding pressure until at last the other team could push no longer, and it left them all battered and weary. It was with this bone-deep exhaustion that they returned to their lockers after the match, setting down their weapons and tools and undressing before they hit the showers, chattering idly about the highs and lows of the day.

"...and that's why, man. Ain't no way their Demo ain't got it out for me or somethin'," Scout said, continuing his long-winded theory as to his problems of the day.

"No more'n any of 'em do," Sniper countered, hanging up his hat and shedding his sunglasses. "You just keep gettin' in the bloke's way, mate. I keep tellin' you. It's not targeted if you keep stumblin' into 'is sticky traps."

"He keeps settin' 'em right where I'm goin'!" Scout replied, tugging his shirt off. "It's like the guy's got a grudge!"

"Your poor battlefield awareness is not the manifestation of a grudge," Spy shot with a roll of his eyes, stubbing out his cigarette on his shoe and finally making it to his locker. He lifted an eyebrow, immediately clocking the new addition to his possessions. "Hello now, what's this?"

"Man, I got plenty a' battlefield awareness! I got battlefield awareness comin' out my ass! Ain't nobody know the ins an' outs a' that field better than me you snooty fro—hey what's that?" Scout interrupted his own self-aggrandizement to peer at the letter that sat in the upper cubby of Spy's locker, where the rogue was also staring, studying, trying to be sure there were no traps attached. Scout merely ducked around him and snatched up the paper with a flourish and set to opening it.

"Scout! You idiot, there could be a trap! Or contact poison! Or—"

"'Spy," he nodded to the older man, holding the letter out of his reach as he grabbed for it," I find you fascinating in a way I can't shake. I'm fixated on you. You're all I can think of when my mind turns to idle thoughts, and those thoughts are a mixture of adoration and lust. Hoo buddy, this is gettin' spicy!" He grinned and waggled his eyebrows, dodging around Spy's grasping hands and hopping up onto the bench in front of the lockers. His voice grew more dramatic as he read." It's driven me to distraction and the kind of madness only alleviated by some sort of action. " He grinned down at Spy, who had given up on trying to snatch the letter from his grasp, his face growing pink with embarrassment.

"But I have doubts as to whether I'd be welcomed. Feelings beyond surface-level are impossible to read with you, which makes sense. You wouldn't be the deeply capable spy you are if you were an open book. What a fuckin' brown-noser. Your skill and talent are part of what make you so damnably attractive, if frustratingly mysterious."

The rest of the team had finished piling into the room, gathering around the bench as Scout read aloud for the group. Pyro had his hands on his hips, shaking his head. The kid could be such a dick sometimes, and he could practically feel Engineer dying behind him, the shorter man wilting as he tried to pretend to be surprised.

"So," Scout threw an arm out, giving it all the performance he could muster, "all I can do is write this and leave it where you can find it, so I can finally get this off of my chest. Yours..." everyone leaned in with interest, stricken with curiosity as to who had written such a note. Scout pulled the letter away from his face, holding it out for Spy to take, "N.G."

"N.G.?" Spy asked, finally snatching the paper from Scout's hand, holding it up for his eyes to scan hurriedly across. Everything was spelled correctly, and there was no unusual capitalization. A quick look at the paragraphs showed no immediate pattern in word choice, and everything but the name was typed, so handwriting couldn't be analyzed. From a cursory glance, where was no clue as to whom had written the letter. He took a deep breath, and looked from the page to the assembled mercenaries, his cheeks burning.

Four and a half sets of eyes and two pairs of lenses all stared back at Spy, and from a glance, he could discern nothing but surprise and curiosity from all of them. He swallowed hard and tried to regain his composure. "It seems someone is...smitten with me," he said slowly, the reality of the situation dawning on him.

Scout guffawed from his spot on the bench, hopping down next to Spy and throwing his arm over the taller man's shoulders. "Hope you like sausage, pally, 'cause ain't nobody got access to this locker room but us chuds." He grinned and gestured broadly to the assembled men in the room, all of whom averted their eyes bashfully at the suggestion.

Spy lifted an eyebrow at Scout, then rolled his eyes in annoyance. The little shit was right, but he didn't have to come out and say it. Whoever wrote the note, it was one of seven possible suspects.

Even if Scout were oblivious as to why it was the worst possible outcome if he were the author—and Spy had a sneaking suspicion that he wasn't as oblivious as he played, considering the occasional cracks Heavy would make—there was no way he would have been able to spell half of the words on the letter, let alone define them. And he certainly wouldn't go reading the damned thing aloud for everyone just to embarrass Spy. That was one worst-case-scenario squared away, at least, so Spy didn't have to worry about the logistics of a murder-suicide.

No, it was down to Soldier, Pyro, Demoman, Heavy, Engineer, Medic, or Sniper. His eye swept over them all, and he turned his mouth up into a straight line. All of them were uncomfortable under his gaze, which was only fair. After all, they were all in a room together, and Scout was clearly ready to pounce at the first sign of weakness for immediate mockery.

Spy tried to think it beneath him to do the same if the tables were turned, but he knew better. He would be the first to tease Scout and his prospective beau mercilessly, so it was only fair that he suffered the same fate, really. Though it seemed unfair that whoever it was who had placed the letter should be so shamed, particularly when it was already very clearly a labour just to make this barest gesture.

Among a team of straightforward, brash, confident men, it was certainly surprising.

Either way, standing around and letting Scout hang about as his personal gadfly wouldn't make it any easier. "How eloquent," Spy finally sighed drolly, knocking Scout's arm off of him and straightening his jacket. "Well, nobody is stepping forward, so there's no point to standing here, covered in dirt and sweat and stinking up the place. Gentlemen." He put the letter back in the cubby of his locker and set to undressing.

"You're gonna shower? With everyone? Knowin' you got a target on your ass? That one a' the guys is gonna be eyein' you up like fresh meat?" Scout balked.

"If he hasn't been noticed taking looks yet, he scarcely will risk it now," Spy announced, unbuttoning his jacket. He smiled, looking to the younger man, who seemed absolutely scandalized. "And if he does, then hopefully he will enjoy the show."

That brought a chuckle out of Heavy and Sniper, who peeled off to go change as well, the rest of the team following suit, conversations springing up among them as they undressed, grabbed their towels and shower kits and headed in to go wash.

"So yer intae blokes?" Demoman asked as Spy walked past him to the showerhead on his blind side. He shed his towel and hung it on the wall, and turned on the water, letting it run and get warm before stepping under its spray.

"I am into interesting people," Spy replied, setting himself up in turn. "I have preferences that interest me more than others, of course, but someone's gender does not disqualify them, no."

"Ye great pouf," Demoman chuckled. "Figured as much."

"You're one to talk," Spy chuckled.

"Oh?"

"Not a man on this base believes your line about that business with the BLU Soldier being just about friendship."

Demoman heaved a heavy-yet-quiet laugh. "Aye, fair enough."

Engineer stood at Spy's other side, his eyes straight ahead, his jaw clenched hard enough to ache. He heard a snort from the other direction, and turned to see Pyro looking pointedly at him, grinning. His eyes went wide, and he shut them, turning his face into the water spray. Little shit was going to get him made. But he knew why he was doing it. He'd heard it too. Spy was into men, and that meant he wasn't out of the game yet.

Whether Spy would think he's an interesting person, though, that remained to be seen.

"N.G.," Spy mumbled, looking about the mess table at his coworkers, watching them with keen eyes.

"So mysterious!" Medic tittered, looking across at Spy as he picked at his dinner.

"Yes. Very mysterious," Heavy agreed flatly, sitting beside the doctor. He cast a look about the table, wondering if nobody else had put together the very obvious pseudonym of its author. In spite of himself, he didn't let his eye linger on Engineer. The poor man had to build up the courage just to leave a love note; it would be cruel to out him. Though Heavy was surprised; he didn't figure Engineer for such a coward. The man was normally so plain-spoken. But then, matters of the heart were fickle. Who was he to judge?

Especially as Spy was busy analyzing every single one of them for the slightest tell, trying to socially engineer his way into a solution through sheer force of will, making them all squirm under his curious scrutiny. Heavy was grateful that it wasn't him who held a torch for Spy. He wouldn't be able to maintain a straight face under such intense study. He almost pitied Engineer.

But then, he'd asked for this, quite literally.

"Any theories?" Sniper teased, gesturing to Spy with a fork full of salisbury steak.

"Considering his dismay, I've safely eliminated Scout from the running."

Everyone nodded. That was obvious for other reasons, but they all knew better than to say it.

Scout made a face at the possibility. "Fuckin' miracle anyone wants to fuck you."

"Thank you," Spy dismissed with annoyance. "Otherwise? I do not know. I have theories as to who it isn't, but as to who it is? That is trickier."

"I did not write your letter," Soldier announced.

"I know, you don't know how," Spy replied with a roll of his eyes.

"Damn right!"

"Don't just tell him!" Pyro chastised, whacking Soldier on the shoulder. "That takes away the fun! Let Spy solve it!"

"I assure you, he did not provide me with new information just now," Spy said drolly. He finished his dinner and downed the last of his drink. "But thank you, mon ami."

Pyro beamed.

"Regardless, I think I will get nowhere surrounded by everyone, and I suppose I owe it to the author to perhaps approach him in private, once I have deduced his identity. As such, I will retire for the evening. If you'll excuse me." Spy rose from his seat, taking his dishes to the kitchen to wash before leaving mess for the evening with a casual wave to the team on his way out.

They all stared after him, and when the door closed, immediately turned to one another, staring hard at each other, accusingly. Except for Heavy, who just shook his head.

"I'm impressed! I didn't realize you held such a high opinion of him," Medic said, leaning in to grin at Sniper.

"Me? What're you lookin' at me for? I'm not interested in that bloody snake!" Sniper snapped, reeling back in his seat. He pointed to Demoman, "Demo's obviously this N.G. bloke, tryin' shamelessly to pull 'im in the showers!"

"Tryin' tae pull 'im?! I was jus' askin' a question! And a fair one at that! Nae a single one o' ye thought tae clear it up if N.G. even had a chance! If Spy only wanted birds, it'd all be pointless anyway! Ye cannae say ye were nae curious!"

"If Spy only wanted birds, only Doc'd have a chance," Scout snorted, deeply entertained by the chaos.

"Is that a joke about my pets, or are you suggesting I'm a woman? Answer carefully," Medic grunted.

"What's wrong with being a woman?" Pyro asked, fanning the flames.

"Absolutely nothing, other than I don't appreciate being misgendered simply because I do not strut around aggressively asserting my masculinity every three minutes like some insecure, immature Dummkopf!"

"That's big talk from a guy walkin' around callin' everyone a dumbhead!"

"Scout," Heavy warned, though he was quickly drowned out by Sniper.

"You're awful quiet, Truckie," he observed with a smirk, looking down the table at the shorter man.

Engineer choked on the water he was drinking, breaking into a coughing fit upon being called out. The table erupted in laughter, and once his throat was clear, he glared daggers at the assassin at the other end of the table. "I'm tryin' to eat my damn dinner's why I'm quiet, Stretch. Ain't nobody's business but Spy's who's sweet on him, and it's uncouth to sit around cacklin' like a bunch of hens speculatin'."

Everyone shared a look. Medic bit his lip. Demoman pouted, trying to contain a smile. Sniper simply continued smirking, his gaze leveled on his friend. Pyro was glad for his mask to provide a poker face. Scout had a hand clapped over his mouth to contain his giggles.

Heavy simply shook his head. Engineer was right. Engineer was also deeply, deeply obvious. "You are correct, Engie," he said. He rarely used the other man's nickname, but said it now pointedly. "Rude to gossip about teammates' love life, Engie."

Engineer stared hard at Heavy, and the giant smirked as his eyes locked on shadowed lenses.

"But you are not very good at being sneaky, N.G. "

Everyone's eyes alit on Engineer, whose face burned bright red.

"Ohhhhhh," Scout gasped, realization dawning. "Engie, N.G.! That's fuckin' genius, man, I never woulda thought 'a that."

Sniper turned a baffled look to Scout, shaking his head in disbelief.

"Love bloomin' on a battlefield. It's beautiful," Demoman said, wiping at his eye.

"A love letter from the soft-spoken American to his elegant French beau; how romantic!" Medic cooed.

"He ain't my beau!" Engineer replied, his hand curling into a fist.

"Come on, guys, be nice. Imagine how hard it must be to admit that to Spy of all people. He's not known for being gentle to people," Pyro cautioned, trying to deescalate now that it was actively turned on Engineer.

"Yeah, s'pose he can be...intimidatin'," Demoman conceded.

"And flippant," Medic admitted.

"And rude," Sniper pointed out.

"And an asshole," Scout added with a pout.

Engineer frowned harder.

"But he is handsome," Heavy offered with a thoughtful nod.

"What, are you a fanny bandit too?" Scout asked, a bit surprised.

"Keep forgettin' fanny means arse over here," Sniper mumbled.

"Not your business," Heavy shot, "but do not need to like men to understand what handsome man look like."

"Women do tend to fall for his charms readily," Medic observed, thrusting a finger into the air.

"That's true, and ye cannae deny the lad's got charm," Demoman agreed, nodding sagely.

"And we know Demo's a pouf, so there's your expert," Sniper chuckled.

Demoman shot him a look. "He's nae me type, but I'd nae kick the lad outta bed. So I see what you see in him, mate," he said, giving Engineer a wink. At least, he assumed it was a wink.

Engineer's face hit the table, his hardhat flopping off loudly as he slumped into a defeated heap, blushing up to his scalp. "Fellas…"

"Nobody better say a fucking word," Pyro cautioned, pointing a finger and making sure to jab it in the direction of every mercenary at the table. He laid a hand on Engineer's back as the man curled his arms around his head to hide his face. "Or respawn won't be able to save you."

Everyone else reeled back, hands up in surrender. None of them wanted to incur Pyro's wrath.

"What? Us? Say anythin'? No, naw, you got it all wrong, Py! Never never not once, nope. Not me, not us, right, guys?" Scout sputtered nervously, terror edging into his expression as he begged off.

Everyone else nodded in nervous agreement.

"Just can't believe Heavy made it before Spy," Sniper mumbled, casting an apologetic look to the giant, who raised an eyebrow. "No offense, mate. But it's Spy we're talkin' about 'ere."

"Spy's job is partly to decipher intelligence and codes," Medic conceded, laying a hand on his companion's shoulder.

"Spy look too hard, miss obvious thing," Heavy sighed, shaking his head. "He is probably trying to find coded message that does not exist."

"It's clever," Demoman chuckled, leaning in to Engineer, who had not lifted his head from the table. "Give the lad a bone tae chew on, a wee mystery tae solve, when the answer's in front o' his face! Just the sort o' thing that'd get his attention, for sure."

"Yeah, well hopefully givin' 'im that bone'll get 'im givin' you his bone, right?" Scout said with a toothy grin.

"Can you not?" Sniper shot, swatting Scout. "Can you be fucking supportive for once?"

"What?! How'm I not bein' supportive?" Scout rubbed at his arm, pouting at Sniper. "Engie's playin' to that rat's interests, and I'm sayin' that's a good thing! It's what he's into, so maybe that'll let 'im hit it! Look if Engie wants to dick Spy down I ain't judgin' nothin' but the guy's taste in men, man!"

Sniper sighed, sitting back in his seat, rubbing at the bridge of his nose as Scout turned to Engineer. "You got this, Hard Hat. A love letter, a little mystery? It's cliche but Spy's a big walkin', talkin', smokin' cliche. Bet 'e loves that bodice ripper shit, too. The romance shit. You show up shirtless, all flexin' an' dramatic, sweep the guy off 'is feet? Carry 'im to bed an' lay 'im down an' tell 'im you're gonna ravish 'im? Putty in your hands, pal."

"We still talkin' about what Spy's intae?" Demoman teased.

"Whatchu tryin' to say, Cyclops?"

"I dinnae ken, lemme get me shirt off and do some flexin' for ye and we'll see, aye?"

Pyro chuckled as Scout and Demoman set to bickering, Sniper immediately jumping in to roast them both. He pat Engineer on the back, who he felt shaking with soft laughter, relieved that the worst the team had for him was some gentle ribbing and their own version of being supportive. Now, all he had to worry about was what Spy thought.

N.G.

In ROT-13, that decoded to A.T. Not a man on the team had those initials either, and even the one man with a T, Tavish, had an F and a D for his other initials, so it seemed unlikely. Though he had been friendly in the shower...

He was always friendly in the shower. Spy always stood on his blind side, so conversation lacked awkwardness, and he always wanted to chat while the adrenaline of the field was still fresh. Spy knew that. And that aside, the man was forthright to a fault. If he were his admirer, there'd be no secret about it. He'd make a show of ogling him and ask him out for drinks, brazen as always.

No, Demoman seemed unlikely. Doubly so because Spy knew from experience that the man wrote in Scots, just as he spoke, which made his English even harder to parse in written form.

The writing of the letter was clean, precise, almost designed to be hard to identify. Surely, typing almost all of it had been a clever way to avoid handwriting analysis.

Which would be doubly important for a man with difficult-to-read handwriting. Medic, perhaps? Spy could rarely understand the scribbles the doctor threw onto his blackboards in the lab, and more infuriatingly: official documents that he needed to interact with. It was chicken scratch to his eyes, and he had to fight to make out what the hell the man was even trying to communicate. The love note would have been unreadable in Medic's handwriting, so a typewriter would be a clever move. Certainly, the vocabulary and formality on display seemed a closer fit for him than anyone else on the team.

But Medic had no shame. He certainly only partook in clandestine behaviour spontaneously, improvising his way through life to a degree that frankly stressed Spy the hell out. There was no way the man would bother with a note, let alone typing it up, especially when he maintained that his handwriting was perfectly legible, na schönen Dank auch! He, like Demoman, would likely just come out and say it, likely in an embarrassingly public scenario, likely with an inappropriate amount of familiarity, and wonder why everyone was staring.

No, no, it couldn't be him. Spy grumbled quietly, taking another sip of the whiskey he held in one hand, a pencil threaded between the index and middle fingers of his other hand, which drummed on the top of his desk as he hunched over it, eyes busily scanning the page once again. If there were a substitution cipher, the key would have to be contained in the letter itself, possibly in some sort of pattern in the words.

No clues in the capitalization. No clues in the words that started sentences or paragraphs. He counted the commas and periods, no pattern or morse code to be found. He took another sip of whiskey and sighed.

Soldier couldn't read, and admitted it wasn't him, so that was out. Unless he was trying to throw him off the trail in front of the others...

Heavy, while straightforward and confident, was also cagey with his more easily-bruised emotions. It could be him. Surely, leaving a note and hoping for the best, hoping to avoid the attention of the rest of the team and finding very few excuses to get Spy alone to speak with him, could be his style. The language was florid enough to speak from his poet's heart, but it was also too complex for the man's grasp of English. Had it been in his native tongue, he was sure a love note would read exactly like what one would expect from a doctor of literature. But Heavy would likely never allow any third party to translate something so intimate, and not another soul on the team could even read Cyrillic characters, let alone the Russian language. It seemed deeply unlikely.

That left Sniper, Pyro, and Engineer. Sniper was plain-spoken, but also spent most of his life hiding as part of his livelihood. Caginess made sense, and he knew the man had a better vocabulary than he let on, and could play roles when needed for work. It wasn't impossible that the letter had come from him, but it seemed strange, considering their vitriolic friendship. N.G. had complimented his competence at his job, and competence in one's profession was something Sniper always spoke of priding himself on. It would make sense that he looked for that tendency in a partner, as well. Spy admired the man's commitment to his work, and his pragmatism, but he wasn't sure he could handle being the object of affection of a man who was so pragmatic that he threw piss at people and lived in a van. He shuddered, not crossing the man out in his mental list, but dearly hoping that he wasn't the culprit.

Pyro was a cipher of his own. Most of his dossier was redacted, and he kept much of himself very close to the chest, short of his fondness for cute, childish things and his penchant for talking a lot of shit at the slightest provocation. Spy had never seen him write or read, now that he thought about it, but absence of evidence should never be confused for evidence of absence. He shivered, wondering what Pyro's affection might look like, and leaving a love letter absolutely seemed his style. Typing it rather than doodling it in crayons and markers, though? If if were him, someone else had probably sprung the idea, which suggested co-conspirators. Considering Pyro had been excited to let Spy solve the riddle in the first place, that did make him seem a more likely suspect.

Engineer definitely had the vocabulary, though he only showed it off when he was looking to show off. He was also clever enough to type it to cover his tracks. But would he be the sort to leave a love note? He wasn't exactly the kind of man who wore emotions on his sleeve, usually only allowing camaraderie and anger into the open, like your stereotypical American man. But secretly, was he a romantic?

Spy thought of quiet nights around the campfire, when Engineer would strum his guitar and quietly sing old folk songs to fill the silence, his strong jaw and dark eyes illuminated by the dancing firelight. He'd sing of home, of struggle, of love, of all sorts of things, his warm, throaty voice low and gentle, barely above the strings that hummed along. But this was man who says he's not qualified to answer questions about the nature of beauty. Maybe it was just a matter that one cannot analyze such things objectively; one has to feel them, and his image of propriety got tied up in his concept of logic somewhere along the way? Could there be a romantic behind that facade, betrayed by the beauty of his songs?

Spy set his pen down, looking away from the page to stare off into the middle distance. He took another sip of his whiskey and frowned. Well, shit. He didn't know who this mysterious N.G. was, and he had yet to puzzle out anything about him. But somehow he had just deciphered his own emotions, and was left with a heavy pit in his gut at the realization that, oh no, he had feelings for Engineer.

But what if he wasn't N.G.?

But what if he was?

"Merde."

#TF2 Fanfiction #Team Fortress 2 #TF2 #TF2 Fanfic #TF2 Napoleon Complex #TF2 Engineer #TF2 Spy #TF2 Scout #TF2 Soldier #TF2 Pyro #TF2 Demoman #TF2 Heavy #TF2 Medic #TF2 Sniper

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