#but I imagine she would just do different braids or do half up half down or something

[realmermaid333]

I like to imagine that Katniss started wearing her hair in two braids again after the war. She had more positive memories associated with it, like it being her mother's or father's hands braiding rather than her own. They reminded her of lighter times, and didn't remind her of being the mockingjay symbol. The hunger games Victor. It also made her a bit less recognizable, which was another win.

She also started wearing her hair down more often. Particularly if she was going to be leaving the district for whatever reason (I'm sure she eventually got out of being banned from leaving twelve), like to visit her mom, Annie, or Johanna, because it hid her face a little and didn't have the potential to catch anyone's eye as "the hairstyle of the mockingjay". maybe she learns an appreciation for how the wind feels blowing through her long, black hair and she starts to go for walks with it down.

[cvnt4him]

i would request monoma x reader bc I'm literally going crazy about him but idk-- OMG NVM MONOMA X KIND/SOFT READER

BITCH ME TOO WHEN I TELL YOU HE FR GOT ME FOAMING OUT THE MOUTH LIKE IM A RABID ASS DOGGGG.

You know you wrong as hell for that picture tho.. bc why he look so goofy, bones js doing my man wrong this season😞

...........................................

*˖°My heart.°˖*

...........................................

"I don't get what you even see in him, my love."

Mina scolds as she finishes crocheting your last butterfly loc into your hair.

It was 4 AM, you both had school in a couple hours and she had been doing your hair since 12 o'clock. Your head was pounding and was going to be throbbing for the next week. You can only imagine how bad it'll be once you put your hair into a ponytail...

You sigh from relief knowing that was the last braid you had to endure. She puts muse all over your hair, the soft yet cold air like foam covering your hair as she gently slides her hands down each braid costing it in the pleasant and calming scented hair applicator.

You stand and stretch deciding to just put your bonnet on without putting your hair up so you can just head straight to bed, not that you'd get much sleep since school started in like what less than an hour and a half? What's the point in even trying to sleep.

"he makes me laugh. he's a gentleman, he--"

"gentleman my ass."

She cuts you off with a scoff straightening up all of the things she used to do your hair, putting them away and washing the icky foam texture off of her hands.

"okay first of all, don't you ever in your life; he's a sweetheart, really he is. and I don't need you questioning my choices, you're like a sister to me so please for the love of God just fucking trust my choices for once, yeah?"

She hums and rolls her eyes putting her bonnet on and getting under her leopard printed covers. She sighs and wishes you a good night as you leave and head back to your dorm.

All you could think about while getting ready for school was how rude mina was. Sure he was quite unpleasant to your classmates but he's a sweet guy to you!! Well no.. he's just less of an asshole. You noticed that Everytime he would say some smartsss remark to your peers he wouldn't say anything even remotely bad to you. He wouldn't even look at you. It's like there was something about you that just made him go silent.

The way you looked at him however, that was a game changer. He would get all stuttery over his words and just get flustered to the point he'd live without kendo needing to assist. (Knocking his hardheaded ass out)

You figured he had a crush on you which you were completely alright with due to you reciprocating his feelings! He was so beautiful and rather charming in his own way. He was distinguished and quite dashing!!!

You had no idea how people could just say such mean things to him!!

You finish off your look with a silver necklace that makes everything pop so beautifully. Your many rings matching indefinitely. You wore a white turtle neck and a pastel pink plaid skirt with white opaque tights on underneath. Baby pink Mary Jane's accompanying your soft aesthetic.

Being in college was fun for you, the party's the sleepovers the random socks on other people's dorm handles. It was an interesting experience, one of the greatest parts about it was how you could wear whatever you wanted! No dress code, no uniforms just your own unique style!

You walked with a sway to your hips as you made it to your class, to your surprise seeing how there were different students there than normal.

You look around and see groans and laughter coming from somewhere, you turn your head out the classroom door to see some of your friend and peers angry and uncomfortable whilst a manically laughing monoma boasts about something.

Mina sees you and lights up nodding her head in monomas direction telling you in girl talk or whatever the fuck to "get your fucking man before I have kirishima walk him like a damn dog."Her eyes saying more than enough.

You chuckle which catches others attention, including monomas. He turns with a raised brow to see you, his eyes widening and a pinky tint slightly becoming visible on his features.

"hello, neito."

He clears his throat and turns to you dusting off his outfit and giving you a small grin looking to the ground, unable to hold eye contact.

"hi y/- ahem. Y/n."

His voice cracked whilst he tried saying your name instantly making him get flustered and asking a loud and entertained kirishima have a belly laugh.

Monomas turns to them and instantly shouts at them calling them "Imbeciles" and "incompetent losers" and such, the way he spoke with such sophisticated mannerisms was just amusing to you, even while arguing and being angry with people he disliked he still manages to not use foul language and be somewhat civilized. It's quite neat.

You giggle catching his attention again, he turns to you and bows his head lightly with a smile as an apology.

"what are you up to, neito?"

You ask with a tilt to your head.

"who me?! I- uhm-- y'know the usual, classes are just taking over my brain at the moment, haha!"

He jokes, making you giggle again. God you were so cute to him, the way you innocently giggled or laughed at anything, the way you dressed to adorably like an innocent little girl was oddly compelling to him.

"i see you've gotten your hair done. It looks very nice, y/n."

He says to you nodding his head to your hair, the way you had little sparkles raying off of it and how you had little star shaped clips in your locs just completes your outfit.

"awh thank you neito!! You're so sweet!"

You jump into his arms with a hug, snuggling your nose into his shirt. He blushed intensively, getting stiff and tense underneath your touch. You did such foul things to him, making him flustered and blushy like this. He never felt this way for anyone, he always wanted to be a hero and show everyone that he was just as capable of doing things his former class rivals could.

He slowly wrapped his arms around your shorter figure leaning his head down and resting it on your head, his nose burying itself into your locs and smelling the sweet smell radiating off of them.

It was an unfamiliar smell to him, yet it was so intoxicatingly sweet. Like he'd smelled it before, or like it was just something he couldn't resist. A smell he was sure he wanted to take over his senses all the time. For the rest of his life even.

The hug lasted quite some time, an angry kirishima faux clearing his throat to end the long hug. Mina rolled her eyes and nudged him, she didn't like monoma really, but if you had then she'd just have to thug that shit out. For your sake.

You pulled away first, having monoma realize where he was, which was not in a perfect mansion with a beautiful rose garden, white picket fence, and a golden retriever running around with happy and cheerful barks.

He looks down at you ass you peer up at him with beautiful eyes, the way they shine so brightly even without sunlight raying into them, the way you bat your eyelashes at him and smile innocently.

He blushed while staring deep into your eyes. Fuck he'd just imagined a whole entire life with you, making you his wife and you have his kids.

You were evil and putting him under your spell. Your evil, wicked, enchanting, perfect, beautiful, absolutely breathtaking spell. Wait what?!

He got flushed and hid his face with his hand as he looked away, his other hand still on your waist.

You put one of your hands on his neck causing him to snap his neck to look right back to your face. You look down at his chest and rub your other hand up and down it and slowly look back up to him. You smile and move your hand that was once in his neck to his flushed cheek.

He wss going to kiss you. Fuck he was actually going to kiss you, finally, after having a huge crush on you for all these years you were going to kiss him. He'd finally make you his!

"AHEM. So yeah uh, we have to get to class, right y/n? Wouldn't want kids to catch you guys Frenching in the middle of the hallway while classes are in right? Right?"

Kirishima interrupts, making up an excuse to get you away from him.

Mina face palms herself while pulling kirishima away from the two of you. Monoma watching while he gives kirishima an evil, shit eating grin. Kirishima was practically foaming out of the mouth like a raccoon with rabies.

You simply giggle before letting him go. No no no, that's not what was supposed to happen! Why'd you let him go?!

"he's right, we should get to class."

You say quietly, never taking a step back still being rather close to him, peering up at him with wide eyes and offering him a smile.

He sighs and looks away. He was extremely disappointed. Why'd that shitty shark toothed fucker have to get in his way? You were finally going to kiss him.

"but, we can hang out later, if you'd like."

"yes!-- I uhm.. yes, I would like that, if you would."

He answers quickly, before stumbling on his words and saving himself from eternal embarrassment, not that toud ever make fun of him. He was cute, and flushy. Most people didn't get to see him like that not even kendo. You were honored and wnsted to spend more time with him. So you agreed. The two do you made plans and agreed to meet and have lunch, he'd take you to see a movie and you'd go out on dinner dates.

He had so many plans for the two of you. And once you start dating you better believe you're not allowed to be around anyone without him, not that he's jealous.. he's jealous. He's so jealous, he hates anyone that's not him being in your presence. He loves you! More than anything and anyone.

He holds you with grace, being so gentle with you throughout everything. Making sure you don't have tod I anything, not lift a single finger. He holds you tight at night making you feel safe and warm. He loves matching with you, and eating with you, and doing anything to ensure everyone knows you're his. He isn't insecure or anything but he's not oblivious to the rather hot people that swarm your school. He has a hard time reassuring himself that you only have eyes for him!

You're so kind and nice to everyone it's hard to believe you're his girlfriend. Seriously, no one believes you two, but you are. You're his and he's yours. No doubt about it, he'd choose you over the world.

He loves showing you off, boasting and bragging about how cute you are, how you're his girlfriend and how no one can ever even compare to you. How your skin glows in the sunlight without any help. How you're so strong and are better than anyone who ever existed. You can be a bit of an airhead at times, he even teases you about it, but let someone dare say some shit about you, he's ready to throw words. Something tells me hes not the best at hand to hand combat..

Anyways, he loves you dearly, he makes sure to tell you constantly. He doesn't want you feeling like you're less than perfect. He has standard, rather high ones too, and you meet them to a tee.

...........................................

AN: this is x black!reader bc I js got my hair done and I've become kinda obsessed w him so. Yeah!!! I'm definitely making more monoma and tenya content bc they've recently been clouding my head. Anyways love laugh love monoma!!!

This is kind of all over the place so come back later for more and much better content including him.

[tennessoui]

3 or 60 for the Stacy's mom AU pretty please?

thank you for sending this in <3

[from this list of prompts] / [Stacy's Mom AU]

3. Do they wear the other’s clothes? (sweatshirt, bandana, necklace, etc.)

honestly as much as they'd both probably enjoy wearing each other's clothing, their styles and color choices are just so different that it's too noticeable and both of them are committed to flying under the radar with their relationship. the most they could get away with is probably anakin dumping his cloaks on obi-wan's shoulders at the slightest shiver from a slightly chilly day. obi-wan now owns like. 12 of anakin's cloaks. he has no intention of giving any of them back.

i imagine obi-wan attempts to give anakin a poorly carved jappor snippet after he reads about the cultural traditions on tatooine. it's really really ugly and it sort of looks like someone's hacked it to pieces and then set it on fire, but master skywalker takes to wearing it religiously.

also i think master skywalker's fascination with obi-wan's hair grows deeper now that he gets to play with it whenever he wants and lace his fingers through it, etc etc, and he takes a lot of calming joy out of playing with it at night if he's awake and obi-wan's asleep, which turns into braiding different sorts of hairstyles into his hair. obi-wan takes to wearing them around the Temple when he's awake - they're much fancier than the padawan braid and much, much more elaborate (because anakin can never do anything half-assed)

60. Who pulls the other closer when they’re sleeping?

lmao ok i think obi-wan's preferred sleeping position is with anakin draped on top of him which anakin is happy to accommodate. but anakin also runs hot, and obi-wan hates being hot in his sleep so anakin often wakes up to obi-wan-shaped fists and feet shoving him away (only to get cold a few hours later and pull him back closer as if he's not a jedi master but obi-wan's personal weighted blanket)

anakin doesn't really mind but he definitely fantasizes about retiring from the Order, convincing obi-wan to follow him, and moving them to some arctic snowy planet where obi-wan is always a little cold and never ever shoves anakin away during the night

snippet (pertaining to question 3)

At first, Obi-Wan is inclined to believe that Quinlan is doing this on purpose, out of some practical joke or in an attempt to tease him and prod at him as if they're still padawans. As if Quin doesn't have a padawan of his own now.

Obi-Wan blinks down at the young girl's upturned face. "Uh," he says, glancing up at Quinlan and resolutely not turning to stare at Anakin, who he can feel shaking with silent laughter beside him.

"Please," Orka adds, placing her hands behind her back. Not for the first time, Obi-Wan wonders how in the Force such a sweet child became Quinlan Vos' padawan.

"Uh, well," Obi-Wan says. "The thing is..." he stares hard at Vos, but the other man just looks expectant and slightly confused, arms crossed over his chest as he leans against the tall duracrete pillar of the fountain behind him. "I think actually Master Skywalker would be thrilled to help you with your hair, Orka."

Quin raises an eyebrow. "Seems unlikely," he mutters, just low enough for Obi-Wan and Anakin to hear. Obi-Wan flushes even as Orka stomps her foot.

"But I want you to braid my hair, Knight Kenobi!" she says. "You have the best hair in the entire Order, all the padawans think so! Please braid mine to look like yours!"

Obi-Wan winces. Behind him, he can feel Anakin's hair traversing up his back to tug teasingly at the end of one of his longer braids. It's incredibly unhelpful. So is the fact that his lover is sitting there and laughing about this whole thing instead of trying to find some way to be helpful.

"The thing is, Orka," Obi-Wan says, clearing his throat. "I don't. Ah. Know how to braid your hair."

Quinlan and Orka both tilt their heads to the side in perfect mirror of each other. It would be cute if Obi-Wan did not feel so incredibly close to humiliation.

"What, you can't figure out how to braid someone else's hair?" Quinlan asks with his eyebrows firmly knitted together. "I'd think it'd be easier than doing your own. Less need to be...you know. Flexible. To get it done. And I mean, I know you're flexible, but..."

Obi-Wan closes his eyes, even as he feels Anakin's chin come to rest on the top of his shoulder. Oh of course, he's no help at all when faced with a youngling's innocent request for assistance, but the moment Quinlan Vos even slightly alludes to his and Obi-Wan's shared sexual history, and Anakin has to say something.

"I braid his hair for him, little one," Anakin tells Orka, reaching out and tucking a longer braided piece of hair behind Obi-Wan's ear. "What Knight Kenobi is too proud to say is that he doesn't actually know how to braid at all."

Orka's eyes widen and she turns to look in between the three of them as if this is an incredible, total betrayal.

Quinlan's own eyes also widen, but he looks more like Life Day has come early. "Oh," he says. "Oh."

"Shut up," Obi-Wan snaps in forewarning. "Whatever you're going to say---"

"But it's always all pretty by breakfast!" Orka protests, eyebrows knitting together. "Do you braid his hair for him every morning? Even before you eat?"

Anakin's Force signature is far too smug. He's enjoying this far too much. Obi-Wan is far too in love with him anyway. It's terrible for his health and his pride.

"Sometimes adults like to have sleepovers just as the younglings do," Obi-Wan says delicately. "Just as the younglings do," he repeats loudly when both Anakin and Vos snort. "And yes, sometimes Master Skywalker enjoys braiding my hair. During those sleepovers."

Mostly, Anakin enjoys braiding his hair either in the aftermath of sex or sometime during the night when Obi-Wan is asleep and malleable and Anakin is kept awake by some nightmare or another. Mostly Anakin enjoys braiding his hair because it's the only sort of claim he can lay on him--not while they're both still Jedi.

And mostly, Anakin. enjoys braiding his hair because he spent years seeing Obi-Wan walk around the Temple with another master's braid hanging down his shoulder, and he'd hated the sight of it.

"Oh," Orka says. She considers this new information before she turns with narrowed eyes to Anakin. "So you can braid my hair."

It sounds like a threat. This time, it's Obi-Wan who has to cover his snort with a cough.

[houserautha]

Ok, okay listen I have a mighty neeed to say this!

How would Feyd-Rautha feel about having a wife who’s sensual???❤️Hear me out, his spouse comes from a small planet called Eros (Greek word for passionate love) and it’s basically the opposite of Giedi Prime, the people are loving, gentle and highly romantic individuals. Even worse they are pacifists! At first Feyd is like eww wtf is that culture? Never heard of such a thing, but when it’s time to meet the bride he sees her and is bewitched…

She has long rapunzel hair cascading down her back, or in a braid. She’s gentle with the maids and teaches them how to put flowers in her hair.

Always had luxurious perfumes and oils. Runs Feyd these big bubble baths and soothes his wounds.

Has the best fruits and sweets shipped in from her planet. Loves telling stories to children, like one of those lovely kindergarten teachers and she thanks everyone for their help.

Loves to paint, and do artsy stuff that Feyd just doesn’t understand where is the war? The bloodshed! The chaos—oh she made me a painting of my battles! Oh that’s so😍

Kisses Feyd’s bruises and at first he’s like cut that out! But then he’s like “Where are my kisses?” “I demand your affection woman.” And she’s like you don’t have to beg. Black cat hubby vibes🐈‍⬛

Gives him good massages too. Will brutally kill and then surely die if she offers anyone else a massage.

Soft and siren like singing voice, plays the harp. Even the Baron is impressed and wants her to play for their events everytime.

“Pick up the blade and defend yourself wife! You never know when you’ll need to, especially if I’m not home to protect you.” His wife just shrugs “But darling, I don’t believe in violence.” Feyd take as deep breath and closes his eyes.

Speaks in a gentle tones “Hello Rabban how are—?” Feyd: “Don’t speak to him he’s a brute!” Rabban is touched that she cares but also jealous that Feyd always gets the most beautiful things offered to him. Even a caring bride.

Extremely calm and seductive. No voice or Bene Gesserit skills needed. Feyd storms in stressed, covered in blood from one his fights and she’s just lying there half naked in a robe reading a book. “Would you like to make love would that be better?” She asks stroking the sheets. “I—I would love to fuck you.” “Oh! Well those are two different things, if you’d like then” “Come here. Come here!” *climbs onto bed.*

Comforts Feyd when he has nightmares. Caresses him and hands him a mug. Feyd: “What is this? It smells horrid.” “It’s elderflower tea my love, it’ll calm you.”🥰 *sips tea* “I hate it. It’s disgusting.” *keeps sipping*

Wears a lot of silk, velvet and lace. Has a gorgeous body and luscious skin.

Feyd is shocked when his darlings don’t want to harm her because she spoils them with special treats, delicious wine, jewelry, and dresses. They forget he enters the room because they are giggling over their gifts. Feyd: “What is this?” “She gave us heart and kidney pie.” “And silver rings!”

Bonus points: She ALWAYS wears red lipstick which is a contrast to the black and white of the Harkonnen planet. Imagine whenever she steps in to see Feyd and her smile is wide and her lips look like bright blood.

Just a thought enjoy!❤️

Omg I LOVE all of this, thank you for sharing it!!

I definitely think it would be a learning curve for Feyd but deep down he just desperately wants someone to love him😂😭

I can see him getting frustrated with himself like “what are these feelings, what has she done to me” and when he asks her what kind of witch she is, she just throws back her head and laughs and tells him, “that’s love, dear”

[shadowqueenjude]

Many people have a headcanon that the stranger who appeared at the Archerons’ door asking Papa Archeron to invest was Lucien, so I decided to write the scene! This is the first coherent thing I’ve written in ages so don’t judge me too hard😭 Also I have no idea what currency is used in acotarland so I’m using pounds because it’s based on Britain.

Lucien had not even seen a human house yet and he already felt like an outsider. He was no stranger to the feeling; it was how he’d felt when he’d first shown up in Spring, covered in his brothers’ blood, steam curling off his body from the fire in his veins, his ember smell and red hair both clear signs that he didn’t belong. However, at least, while his magic had felt weaker outside of his home territory, it had still felt potent. Even with Amarantha’s stupid curse. But here… By the Cauldron, this place was so dreary. So ordinary. If this was where Feyre had grown up, no wonder she was such an ignorant mortal fool. Her human life was so mundane compared to his. Lucien couldn’t imagine living here his whole life like this. 

Tamlin had offered to send an entire entourage to protect him, but Lucien had insisted that just a horse would do. He needed to look wealthy, not like a prince. He wasn’t going to be slain by two girls and their absentee father. Andras had only been killed because he had willed it. Lucien shut down that thought, not wanting to think about the pain he’d felt when Andras had died. His closest friend in Spring, most likely. Tamlin was his friend too, but he was also his High Lord; the relationship was inherently unequal, unlike with Andras.

At last, Lucien exited the forest. The clearing was even more boring than the trees. The ground was a yellowish-green reminiscent of dying grass, and every step was a loud crunch under the horse’s hooves. Pahhh. No wonder Feyre was half-dead when she’d first arrived. Then Lucien felt guilty for thinking that way. It wasn’t her fault the humans were left like this. Prythian before Amarantha had ample resources to help out the humans, but they hadn’t. They’d freed them from slavery to the Fae, only to make them slaves to their basest instincts. 

They were even worse off than the lesser faeries. Lucien’s eyes stung as he remembered Jesminda’s dream of an equal Prythian, the dream Tamlin was working hard towards. She would’ve loved Tamlin and the Spring Court. 

Calm down Lucien, he chastised himself as he urged the horse onward. Holy shit, Tamlin hadn’t exaggerated; these homes and buildings were tiny. He moved through bustling streets with little humans pushing carts full of wares of some kind. Several stopped what they were doing to stare at him. Excellent; he set himself apart plenty simply being astride this mare. 

As Tamlin had said, the Archeron home wasn’t hard to find. Mostly because of the lingering faerie scents that he followed all the way to their house. He didn’t remember human etiquette as it had been ages since he’d met one, but it couldn’t be that different from Faerie etiquette, right? Right?? Cauldron boil him, he should’ve done more research, but he didn’t think it would be that big a deal. Tamlin’s glamour magic that he’d cast as he kidnapped Feyre should hold, plus Lucien’s own glamour magic. 

He didn’t have anything to tie his horse to, so he gently descended the horse and led her near the side of the house, praying that she wouldn’t run. Then he knocked on the door, internally cussing at this infernal hat he was wearing. Some gentlemanly human fashion that he despised.

The door opened a minute later. Lucien looked down at a small woman who looked a lot like Feyre- only, her features were sharper, stronger. Her dirty blonde hair was up in a braided crown, her angled brows were arched as her silvery-blue eyes assessed him with a courtier’s precision. Lucien instantly recognized this one as Nesta- the older sister. Cold, cunning, and more beautiful than Lucien had expected. He gave her a practiced courtier’s smile as he bowed to her. “Hello, Lady. I was wondering if your father was home?” Nesta stared at him suspiciously, eyes narrowed. “What could you possibly want with him?” Another feminine voice in the background gasped, but Lucien maintained his smile, only replying, “He is a merchant, is he not, Lady? I have a proposition for him.”

“Our father hasn’t been a merchant in many years,” Nesta said coldly. Oh, she was a viper, alright. She’d fit right in at the Autumn Court. Unfortunately for her, Lucien had far too much experience with people worse than her. “Perhaps what I suggest will convince him to get back into it.”

Nesta looked him up and down again. Somehow, Lucien got the feeling that she could see through the glamour. Impressive. Lucien’s smile morphed into a smirk as Nesta continued to stare her displeasure. “See something you like, my lady?” Nesta’s eyes instantly snapped back to his. “How dare- oh just come in; let’s get this over with quickly.” 

Lucien bowed again, and unable to help himself, he sent a wink and grin Nesta’s way before he turned towards the man sitting on the chair. Lucien repressed his wince of sympathy at the ruined leg. That must have hurt a lot when he got it. He didn’t know the story, but it made Lucien’s face twinge in memory of his own eye getting carved out. “Does that hurt?” Lucien asked the man, nodding at the leg. The man blinked, as though surprised to be addressed. “Often,” he admitted. “Particularly when I try to stand up.” Unable to help himself, Lucien blurted, “I could give you supplies to help you with that, you know, Lord.”

The man cringed. “Please just call me Tristan. And I couldn’t possibly accept-“

“Please, Tristan. I insist. It’s just in my satchel here. Give me one moment.” He bowed to him and turned around, the scent of jasmine wafting into his nose. That’s when he saw her.

The younger sister: Elain. She had the same burnished gold hair of her sisters, but her eyes were wholly different; she had lovely doe eyes that you could drown in. She had a slight blush on her face, and she had an inviting smile on her face as she fluttered her eyelashes at him. “Won’t you tell us your name, my lord?” Lucien had fully intended on giving them an alias, but he fumbled on his words, instead saying, “I-my name is Lucien.”

“Lucien.” His name on her tongue-

“Pretty name for a pretty lord,” Elain teased, and Lucien felt his face heat up. His shirt sleeve sparked with fire, and Lucien hastily patted it down. Why was he so nervous? Elain wasn’t the first beautiful woman he had ever seen. “Why, um, thank you, Lady Elain.”

“How do you know her name?” Nesta cut in, and Lucien sighed. She was even worse than Feyre. He turned to her, letting that practiced smile return. “You didn’t think I wouldn’t know about the family of the man who I’m trusting with my money, did you?” Lucien tried not to laugh at the expression on Nesta’s face as he sauntered out of the cabin to get the faerie pain killer and tonic. He made a mental note to get new ones once he went back home. This man needed it more than him, and he could just get more when he went home.

 Thankfully, his horse was obediently standing near the side of the house, and Lucien rustled through his satchel, getting the two bottles he always kept on him. Then he strolled back towards the front door, knocking politely again. This time, the door was opened by Elain, who gave him that adorable smile again. “Lord Lucien.” Lucien gave her a real grin, replying, “Lady Elain.” “Please don’t worry about my sister. She can be a little…overprotective, but she means well, I promise.” Lucien lifted a hand to place on Elain’s shoulder assuredly before he remembered that humans were really weird about physical contact. 

“Rest assured, I understand your sister’s misgivings. I’m a strange man entering your home, and I know of the struggles ladies must go through in this world. I do not resent her for her attitude.” Elain beamed. “Does that mean you’ll visit us again?” While Lucien had been careful to avoid physical contact, it seemed Elain had no such qualms; she grabbed his forearm with her small, surprisingly strong hands. Lucien stiffened slightly in surprise. He was going to say no when he caught a glimpse of her expression and scented her mood. Her excitement was so contagious. “You seem a worldly man. Have you traveled much?” Lucien blinked. “Yes, I have.” He opened his mouth to say more, but his mind was blank. Cauldron boil him-

“Excellent! Then it’s settled then; you’re coming back so you can tell me all about your travels,” Elain said firmly. Lucien blushed again. Think of something intelligent to say! “As you say, my lady,” Lucien finally managed. Then the two of them walked back to her father, Elain’s hand still on his arm. Lucien felt Nesta’s glaring at it, but he didn’t care; he was glowing at her hand on him, and he was too giddy to wonder why. “Here it is, Tristan. When you feel pain, take two sips of this red liquid and your pain shall go away. Rub this purple liquid into your leg every day to help relieve the bones in that area. I shall leave them on this table.” Lucien placed them on the wooden table where he noticed Tamlin’s claw marks punched into the table. By the Cauldron, Tam. You went all the way with the theatrics, didn’t you?

“Now, for my request: I know of your reputation, so I am asking you to invest some of my money for me.”

Tristan inquired, “And how much do you wish me to invest, Lord Lucien?” “Twenty thousand pounds.” Elain gasped and Nesta moved to cover her younger sister’s mouth. Tristan stared at him in disbelief. “Twenty thousand? Really?” 

“Of course. Will that be a problem?”

“Well…it’s just so much money…”

Lucien resisted the urge to snarl at him. His patience was waning. “No, it’s nothing to me. Just a small sum to see what you can do. I’ll think of investing more if I am interested.” Tristan stared at him some more. “That sounds like a wonderful idea!” Elain exclaimed, walking forward as her sister tried to shush her again. “My father would be delighted to accept your investment, my lord.” Lucien sighed slightly in relief as Elain met his eyes. “Thank you,” he mouthed at her. She merely winked at him, and Lucien blushed again. Something was wrong with him; must be the human weather. 

“Erm, yes, of course I would,” Tristan said with slight confusion. “Father-“ Nesta began, but Lucien spoke over her. “Splendid! I could not be more grateful.” Lucien reached his hand into midair, searching for that small bag of gold Tamlin had given him and stored in the ether. At last, he found it, handing it to Tristan. “Here’s another token of my gratitude.” Tristan blinked, as if he could not possibly believe his luck, and Lucien handed him another back, this one with the twenty thousand pounds. “It has been a pleasure doing business with you, Lord Tristan, and meeting your wonderful daughters.” He bowed to each of them in turn before exiting the room. 

“Wait!” Elain cried, just as Lucien mounted his horse. Lucien turned to Feyre’s sister. He tried not to get distracted by her big brown eyes as she said breathlessly, “You will come back, won’t you, my lord?” He hadn’t planned on it, no. But he couldn’t bring himself to say that to her. “I swear it, my lady Elain.” She grinned then, her fully smile so brilliant it took Lucien’s breath away. “Until then, my Lord Lucien.” 

That expression remained imprinted on Lucien’s mind all the way back to the Spring Court.

[colddelusionsheep]

So, this is my start of yandere hunger games, and before y'all read this. There are some things to take note of.

Everyone romantic (and y/n) is 18 or older. I am not going to mention age unless the story requires it.

This is going to be ocs x reader, and it will be based on the hunger games(with some differences.

The reader will also be fem.

And that is it! I hope you enjoy, and if you do, feel free to like and reblog(dni if you are under 18 tho)

2nd Part

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The reaping

Humming softly, you buttoned up the last two buttons on your dress. The light green was worn with a few stitched up parts where the fabric use to be ripped. It was old and has seen better days, but even with those details, it still was the nicest thing you owned.

You hoped you could wear it again someday. A wish that you had each year during the reaping, and so far it came true each time. People would comment on how lucky you were to avoid the reaping each time. Weeping love ones of the reaped would curse your name and say you somehow cheated to save your own skin.

You don't blame them. With how many times you have sold your name to this game that is hell. You should of been reaped a long time ago.

Even you didn't know how your name wasn't pulled. The suppose luck that people would attribute to your was no where to been seen on any other day of the year. It was only on this one. However, if it was seen on any other day then maybe you wouldn't be so closed to starving each day.

Reaching down, you pulled your worn socks to your knees. Patches were half hazerdly stitched onto them. Soon you would need new socks and shoes for the winter. You would have to decide on which. Shoes seemed to be the priority in your mind. What good were socks without shoes anyway.

Giving one last look in your mirror. You let out a deep sigh. All you had to do is survive one more time. Then you would be forever free of this life. Once you were free from the reaping, maybe you would finally be accepted in district 12.

The walk to the town square was always a silent one. Each person was getting ready to die. You always thought that the suspense was the worst thing about this. The knowledge that it could be you was nerve wracking to say the least.

Passing by one of your neighbors, you could Hear them mutter under their breath. "I hope it's you."

The rumors you got use to, it was just part of your everyday life by now. Being the outcast was a role you took with stride. What you didn't get use to was the fact that many of those that live close to you wished you dead.

Just like they wished your parents dead, and it was a wish they got. Maybe they would get this wish also.

The check ins went by like a blur. A yearly routine that you would never have to do again. There was peace in that thought, and that peace would surely give you the strength to make it through this. No matter how false it may be.

Taking place behind Susie Mack, you took note of how nice her dress was. The blue color complemented her bright red hair. She even had matching blue ribbons in her two braids.

Late at night, you liked to imagine what it was like to be her, to be Susie Mack. Almost everyone loved her. She was bright and cheerful. You supposed it was easy to be bright and cheerful when you had a full stomach and a loving family. What you would give to be her. To be loved and beautiful. To not have to worry on whether you would have shoes for the winter or food in your stomach.

You hoped that she wouldn't be reaped, simply for the fact that you knew if she was. Then the entire district would come for you. You don't want to imagine how they would punish you this time.

The escort of the Capital made his appearance, and just like every year. His fashion sense was..... lacking.

A mix of fine fabrics made up his outfit, along with a mix of patterns. You were sure that his clothes had every color known to man. Diamonds littered his neck on their choker that they wore.

You couldn't imagine that he were comfortable. Tight and stiff silhouettes seemed to be the main trend in the Capital this year.

As the escort made the same speech that they did every year. You could feel the anxiety of the crowd. It was getting close to the pulling of the names.

You could practically feel the heart beating of each person here. Looking around, you could even see some of the younger ones silently crying.

The two large crystal vessels were brought out. Each full of names. If you did your math right, yours should be in there 80 times.

"Now, as always, ladies first." You never noticed how gentle his voice was. It reminded of the stream your parents use to take you too. The sound of the water would always make sooth you matter how upset you may of been. It was just too bad that that stream turned into a raging river.

"Our female tribute is." He, as always, paused for dramatic effect. " --/n"

Ringing, that's all you could hear, it wasn't till someone shook you that you could fully understand what was said. It wasn't till the peacekeepers roughly pulled you out of your spot that you understood that your wish was finally ignored. It wasn't till the dammed Capital escort kissed your cheek, and spoke of how lucky you were that you understood that luck was just a lie. That the odds were and would never be in your favor.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

And the 1st part of the yandere hunger games is done! Hopefully I will have the next part soon. I did write this part very late at night so the are probably mistakes but that is okay.

Also, sorry I was gone so long, school really took everything happy that was in me away. Good news tho, I am graduated!. My blog is going to be open to asks and all, but for right now requests are going to be closed untill I feel more confident in my writing. It should be a lot more active now however!

That's all for right now! Love y'all <3

[nightingale2004]

What if Poseidon had a daughter before Percy Jackson but forgot about her mom and never claimed her.

Here's my version of this.

Poseidon took advantage of a drunk woman way before he even met Sally, and from that relationship, the woman was pregnant with his daughter, but he left her before she was born.

The girls name is Audrey. Her mom did try to get an abortion but she couldn't afford it, so she kept Audrey but she didn't raise her right.

From the moment Audrey was born, she was different. She was mute, she spent her time near the beach, loved the rain, and would stand outside for hours when it did, and even dance in the rain and with the sea and she would even smile when she heard thunder or saw lightning. She was never afraid of storms. She barely spent time inside, which in her case was a good idea. But she was never a good student and the teachers never cared for her, or the students

Audrey's mom became a drunk full-time. She went to work drunk and came home drunker with a new guy almost every day. She would also abuse Audrey both physically and verbally if she felt like it, which was all the time.

The ocean was her only escape, and when her mom first laid a hand on her, Audrey decided never to speak again the fifth time her mother laid a hand on her, which irritated her mother even more and made Audrey more of a target.

Audrey taught herself sign language during this time and would escape to the beach more often, and she would even stay the night most days if things got too bad at home.

One day, Audrey was met with a woman at the beach who took her in her home and made sure she was well fed, then when it was late, Audrey tried to leave but the woman wouldn't let her go and tried to make up excuses. But then two other women appeared, and Audrey panicked and ran. Then, the women transformed into furies and went to attack her. They managed to get her down, and Audrey tried to scream for help, but no one came. When the furies went in the kill, one last scream from Audrey was heard until three of the Furies exploded in front of her.

Audrey was in shock at what happened but took this chance to run away back home. But when she got there, another thing awaited her. Her mother lay in her bed completely still and breathless with bottles of alcohol and pills scattered with a note next to her that pretty much said, "I wish I never had you. You were a mistake. And if I had the money, you would've been gone a long time ago, and I wouldn't have done this. This is all your fault."

Audrey was in more shock. She killed three creatures, and now her mom is dead. So after a few days, she rolled up her sleeves, packed up everything she could, and left on the first bus she could get. She was 10 at the time (Percy is 6 rn), and at every turn, more monsters were after her, and she had no idea what to do other than run away.

She kept running and accidentally killing the monsters until a cyclops tried to eat her. But then, one of Luke's followers found her and took her to the others. They didn't know who her parent was, but then again, she didn't either.

They took her in, trained her, and informed her of everything they could about their world that she got herself into. And she started seeing them as family. It wasn't until a few weeks before lightning theif that Luke found out who she really was, and he told her who Poseidon was and after that she started training with her powers but she remained hidden until the time was right for her reveal.

Audrey's appearance description: Black wavy hair with blue highlights (did them herself), grey blue eyes like the ocean and a storm, light tan skin (being out on the sun all day mostly), 5'5, slender with a slight build

Weapon: Trident

Hairstyles: full braid, half braid, ponytail, messy bun, fully down, multiple braids.

Jewelry: Seashell bracelet (she loves making things out of seashells), blue gem necklace, pearl clip

(This is just my oc. Don't take it so seriously. It belongs in my imagination)

[rawliverandgoronspice]

Gantober #10 - Depths

Today, a short snippet of a vague TotK-adjacent story about this Ganondorf's childhood escapade! And including an arbitrary headcanon I played with, aka: Sage of Lightning being Ganondorf's younger sister.

Enjoy!

---

“Hey, slow down! I’ll tell mommy if you don’t wait for me!”

Ganondorf ignored his sister’s worried squeaks. She had bugged him all morning when he had tried to enjoy some rare alone time: she had wanted to know what he was reading, pinched his sides with weak jolts of electricity when he had refused to answer, and despaired at his cold disinterest in a shared play time. At the height of his annoyance, he had snapped his book shut and offered her his very worst smile. Do you want to go play explorers? he had asked, and of course the stupid brat had seen nothing concerning about that.

He would have gladly lost her in the upper layers of the ruins near Gerudo Town if she hadn’t been so insistent, following his long strides with a clumsy resolve he admired just as much as it drove him up the wall. Not losing her for real, of course. Just a little scare. She was the only child who wasn’t at least a bit afraid of him —and in the palace, her tears were so quickly comforted. Their mother the chieftain would throw some harsh words his way: that he was to be king and so ought to act with even more self-control than the noblest of their sworn personal guards, that power should never make room for cruelty. His sister would be hugged, and he’d be called callous in a way that itched.

But here, there was only him and the dark. If she cried, she would need to wipe the snot off her nose all on her own.

“Wait for me!”

He didn’t. Hopping past fallen rocks half-submerged in the sand, Ganondorf took a sharp turn left —froze.

The floor dropped into a hole.

It wasn’t a large hole. He could easily fit in, but his mother might have gotten stuck if she had tried to squeeze through. Underneath was pitch black darkness. Faint red, maybe. Or faint green?

Ganondorf knelt, and plucked a stone from the floor before dropping it in. The pebble was swallowed, its fall completely silent. Nothing ever echoed back to him.

“What is this?”

His sister loomed over his shoulder, nosy as always. He stared at her: her green pupils blown wide, mouth agape. Pointed ears. The kind he did not have. For a brief instant, he imagined pushing her down there, or rather: plummeting himself. There was an alluring call to that long drop. A chill ran down his spine. Something down there... yearned. The knowledge was both visceral and unquestioned. And somehow, the fear that should accompany that knowledge refused to take hold.

His sister’s fascination, however, took up a different shade. A paler one.

She gasped, plunging her tiny nails in his arm without thinking. He clenched his jaw in response. “It’s so deep! You shouldn’t get so close!”

“Let go,” he hissed.

“But...”

“If you can’t handle this, you should have played on your own.”

Her skin darkened in childish anger. “Stop being so rude! I’m gonna tell mommy you’re going to places you’re not allowed to go!”

“Go tell her then.”

She hesitated. Her long braid was powdered with dust and sand. A messy spectacle that would immediately betray she had gleefully followed her brother in forbidden, dangerous places. Ganondorf bared his teeth.

“Go!”

His sister jumped, hissing back at him like a stray cat. She turned around and ran off, the tapping of her soles echoing in the caves underneath the city they were born to inherit. He watched the wildfire of her hair disappear in the dark, then turned back to the hole.

Blowing between his palms, he invoked a small flame —blue, soft, the kind to bounce off its shrine across every sort of stone. The walls of the drop were jagged enough for him to climb down. He brushed his palm across its mineral skin, felt its coldness espouse the calloused bumps he managed to claim for himself in the midst of his life’s luxuries.

He didn’t even think. Blinked. Found himself several meters in, surrounded by rocks that wanted nothing more than to watch him fall. He considered forcing himself back up, out of vague concern for his sister and his mom, before deciding he didn’t really care. Something beckoned him deeper.

And he wanted to know what it was.

Long, long minutes later, far too long, the hole opened to a larger cave. Ganondorf’s magic indicated some sort of base floor waiting for him underneath, covered in moss, which he hoped would be enough to break his fall. Strange, unknowable flowers glimmered in what seemed like an infinite void.

He let himself fall.

The impact wasn’t kind to him. His ankles screamed, but he did not. When Ganondorf opened his eyes, all he could see was blackness, and the roots of immense structures of stone erected straight and far up. These looked nothing like gerudo architecture. Old, decrepit machines stood frozen and dead. Cold furnaces.

Ancient, silent, unwelcoming.

Ganondorf stood up and carefully made his way through the ruins.

[highqueenofelfhame]

a/n: okay so chapter three of this might be up before ten of ciwyw simply because i'm excited about it and it's already like halfway done. i'm sorry if this is disappointing news BUT i promise it's a really really good chapter with delicious content. love u, thank you for reading <3

rowaelin // 5.6k words // skoh masterlist // masterlist

“I wish I could tell you guys about this bullshit, but it’s fucking classified,” Aelin hissed into the cell phone she had sandwiched between her ear and shoulder. To their credit, Elide and Lysandra tried to disguise their laughter on the other end, but it came back muffled all the same. The two were drunk on a beach somewhere in Ellywe, and it showed.

 Everyone knew that Aelin joining the Cadre would be a disaster one way or another. When the idea was proposed to her, she turned it down. Three different times. The bad blood with Rowan flowed so deep that she didn’t care about an increase in pay or the less boring missions that came along with it. Truthfully, she would rather be lost in the Staghorns somewhere with Aedion’s unit or back in the desert with the one that showed up to take over for the Cadre. 

 Yet when Darrow approached her with the idea a fourth time, stressing how much they needed an extra person, she caved. The claims that she was the only person fit for the job had gone to her head a little bit, and it was biting her in the ass. He had even brought in her Uncle Gavriel to talk to her about going. The bastard knew that it would sway her, and it had worked. Now that this mission required them to be married, she was pretty sure it had been in the works for a little longer than they knew, and convincing Aelin to join them was the final piece of the puzzle. 

 Currently, she was quickly washing her hands in a bathroom at the Rifthold International Airport. The flight had been sixteen hours, and she was desperate for a bath that didn’t require body wipes to make her smell decent. The boys were probably waiting for her, but she didn’t care. Rare was it that she could use her personal phone to call her friends, and godsdammit, she was going to take advantage.

 “Is he still an ass?” Lysandra asked as Aelin ripped a few paper towels from the dispenser to dry her hands.

 “Of course he is. He has the nerve to act like he’s the one that was scorned! As if I didn’t fight tooth and nail for our relationship to work until the physical and emotional distance was too much to deal with.” She huffed as she poked her bags with her boot, fingers pulling her braid over her shoulder just to have something to do with her hands.

“I mean, you have to come to some sort of truce to make it work,” Elide piped in, crunching sounds filling the space between words while she snacked. 

 “I know. Gods, I know. It’s just harder than I thought it would be.” Aelin sighed, her chest decompressing as several women scurried into and out of stalls around her. “I should go.”

 “Where are you, anyway?” Lys asked.

 “I can’t say, but I can allude that I’m closer to home.”

 “Can you get a normal job? You coming on vacations would be fun.” Elide’s sad-drunk tendencies were starting to peek through, making Aelin smile.

“If Rowan doesn’t kill me first, I might end my active-duty career as soon as possible after this shit is done.” It was only half a joke. Being this close to Rowan was already far more taxing than she imagined. If anything, she thought they might ignore each other and carry on with their jobs like responsible adults. Sure, she knew her old wounds were tender at best, but the explosive tension was slightly unexpected. 

 The three muttered their goodbyes as she hefted her bags onto her shoulders and filed out of the bathroom, immediately spotting Lorcan and Rowan’s heads towering over everyone else near the exit to baggage claim. Aelin forced her shoulders back and stood straight as she could. 

 Approaching Rowan was a battle of its own sort. She had to be ready for a fight constantly. There was just no way of telling if she was walking straight into the line of fire or not.

 ~*~

 The house they would be living in was beautiful. It was a large estate sitting on the cleaner side of the Avery River, nestled back in a little grove of oak trees. A large iron gate kept any outsiders from easily getting onto the property, but it was so far off any main road that they didn’t anticipate trespassers being much of a problem. 

 Not that it really mattered– every inch of the land surrounding the house was under twenty-four-seven surveillance that they could watch from inside. The day before, a tech team had come in to set up all the equipment they would need for quick and secure communication with their superiors. Though the equipment they used was always the best the Terrasen government had to offer, it was always a little more fun to use when stationed in a big city. 

 Though the house had six bedrooms, they quickly learned during the initial walk-through that three were being used for mission-related activities. One room comprised a large desk and about a dozen monitors for surveillance; another had enough desk space for all six of them with room to spare, and the third was primarily for communication. It was filled with phones and computers connected to a highly secure network that, in theory, was breach-proof. 

 That left three rooms for the six of them to divvy into, and Aelin tried to cut the corners of arguing with who was sleeping where by quickly voicing her own option. 

 “I’ll room with Fenrys. Lorcan and Rowan can share and–”

“No.” Rowan’s response was immediate and flat. A single eyebrow quirked up as she slowly pivoted on one heel to look at him. His eyes, however, were on Fenrys. It had been years, and apparently, their casual affection was still grating on his nerves like soft cheese. 

“No?” She questioned, arms folding over her chest. Rowan slid his gaze to her face as the others took a few casual steps away as if they would rather be anywhere but in the middle of their divorced parent’s fight.

“No.” The word was harder, more final this time. 

“Fine, you and me then?” She threw a hand in the air for sarcastic flair and laughed sardonically.  Surely he would drop his weapons and retreat with arms raised, but he didn’t. It surprised everyone in the room, herself more than the rest. 

“Fine.” Shock washed over her in a static wave, running across her body like an electrical current. Everything buzzed from her fingers to her toes as he told no one in particular, “We get the master.”

Nobody was going to disagree with his claim. The two of them needed as much space between them as possible. With all the tension and white-hot energy, they could hardly share a room for meetings, much less a bed. Mala must have boiled his brain to sludge during their stay in the desert. He clearly wasn’t thinking things through.

She was further surprised when he yanked both their bags off the floor where they’d dumped them upon entry and headed toward the north wing of the house. Aelin glanced at Lorcan, hoping he would have something to say on the matter, but he shrugged and grabbed his own bags, shouting that Vaughan was with him as he did. Fenrys, at least, looked as confused as she felt.

 “Have fun with… whatever the fuck that was,” Connall told her, the three remaining men collecting their bags from the floor. 

“You really put your foot in your mouth this time, didn’t you, babe?” Fen drawled, ruffling her hair and following his brother.

“You’re all traitors!” She called as they dispersed, leaving her to begrudgingly march toward the room Rowan had claimed for them. Their low chuckles followed her down the hall, and she was pretty fucking sure she even heard Lorcan laughing with them. 

 When she reached the master bedroom, she was pleasantly surprised at the size of it. A king-size bed was centered against one wall, each side with its own lamps and nightstands. The large bay window on the right side had a bench perfect for reading in if she ever found herself with downtime. There were two doors to the left of the bed. One led to a large bathroom with a shower and a huge bathtub that she would most definitely be soaking in soon. The other was a walk-in closet that rivaled the one she had at home. 

 It was also where she found Rowan.

 Each side of the closet had plenty of drawers and space for hanging clothes and a dozen or so cubbies scattered about. Rowan stood to one side, unpacking his clothes and placing them into drawers. She pretended she didn’t notice that he had chosen the left side– the same as when they lived together.

 Aelin followed suit, kneeling on the floor by her bag and dividing things amongst her drawers. Since they were in need of civilian attire for the mission, she would be going out to purchase new things sometime tomorrow before the real work began. For now, she just wanted a shower and a nap. 

Rowan had slipped out moments before she was finished. Once satisfied with her portion of the closet, she entered the bedroom to find him peering through the curtains, eyes scanning the backyard. He didn’t seem to notice her, or if he did, he chose to say nothing. Taking a deep breath, she wrapped her arms around her body and steeled herself for another fight.

 “Is it okay if I shower first?”

 “Yep.” His fingers released the curtain, and it slipped shut, the sheer fabric not doing much to shield them from the outside world. Aelin made a mental note to get some blackout curtains tomorrow, both for safety and to keep the early morning sun out when she had the luxury of sleeping past five am. 

 “Are you sure?” For once, she wasn’t pushing to get on his nerves. If he wanted the bathroom to himself first, she would allow it if it meant no verbal sparring.

 “I already said yes, Aelin.” The edge of his words was sharp and short as a brand-new dagger. So much for not fighting.

 “You don’t get to do this.” She blurted, fingers gripping her shirt tightly.

 “I don’t get to do what, exactly?” Rowan looked at her then, eyebrows slightly raised and shoulders tense. At his sides, his hands were rolling up into fists. 

“Be pissy about our sleeping arrangements when you’re the one that booted out my perfectly good option.”

 “You were doing it to fuck with me, and I’m not giving you the satisfaction,” he said calmly, taking up a casual fighting stance: feet shoulder-width apart, arms folded over his chest, muscles coiled and ready to strike.

 “I was doing it because I highly doubt the other three would want to catch me in any state of undress accidentally, and only me and Connall can handle Fenrys full time,” she shot back. Her fingernails dug into the skin beneath her shirt like they would sew her up if she fell apart. The tendons in Rowan’s neck were visible, hard lines. If she were closer, she would probably be able to see his pulse pounding against his skin.  “I don’t know why you think I’m just here to fuck up your life. I didn’t even want this job to begin with.”

 Hating that she was the first to retreat, she walked to the closet to gather what she would need for her shower. Footsteps followed her, stopping in the doorway as Rowan asked, “What is that supposed to mean?”

 “Which part?” Aelin plucked a pair of boring cotton underwear from the drawer. 

“That you didn’t want this job.” Selecting a pair of shorts and a t-shirt, she turned to face him with her facial expression calling him ten kinds of stupid.

“It means that I didn’t want this fucking job.” Maybe she drew out every word a little more slowly on purpose to needle beneath his skin. The feathering of his jaw said it worked.

“I understood that part.” He sounded frustrated, his fingernails white where they pressed into his biceps. “You didn’t ask for the transfer?”

 “I turned it down three times. In the last few weeks, Darrow was up my ass about it. Even had Uncle Gav try to convince me, so I caved. Did you think I asked for this to come rain a special kind of hell down on your head?” 

“I wouldn’t put past you,” he retorted, and something in her broke. Just a little bit. 

“Contrary to whatever bullshit you’ve made up about me to craft me into your villain, I was perfectly content to never see you again. I don’t want to work with you, I don’t want to share a single molecule of oxygen with you, and I don’t want to constantly be ready to fight with you at the drop of a hat. This isn’t what I wanted for my career or my personal life. I’m here because I took an oath to protect my country, and despite my multiple refusals, they wanted me here with this unit.” Aelin shoved past him, her shoulder ramming into his arms as she did. “Do us both a favor and get over yourself, Rowan. This self-centered bullshit is exactly why I fucking left you.”

Though she hadn’t meant to be quite so dramatic, the bathroom door slammed in his face when she closed it. The sickly feeling of guilt washed over her at the look on his face. That last hateful sentence wasn’t even supposed to be said out loud. Did she even mean it?

Aelin didn’t realize she was holding her breath until she finally heard his footsteps retreat from the room and a heavy exhale whooshed from her lungs.

~*~

“Aelin, I–” His hands reached for her, but she smacked them away hard enough that it stung his palms.

 “No, no, no. I told you a thousand times if you took another deployment, I was done. And there is just no–” Aelin let out a gasping sob, one hand on her heart and the other wrapped around her torso. Unable to stop himself, he tried to pull her to him. If he could just calm her down, it would be okay.

Before his fingers could even graze her skin, she stumbled backward. A gust of wind had rain blowing at him from behind. He wasn’t sure if his face was wet with tears from his eyes or the sky. 

 “Baby–” The back of Aelin’s wrist pressed to her mouth and did nothing to muffle the sob. Knowing he was the source of her pain had him wishing for a lightning strike. 

 “There is no coming back from this.” The words were almost carried away in the storm. Not once had he ever heard her speak so softly, so broken. Tears streamed down her cheeks and neck, soaking the collar of her t-shirt while she shook her head and pointed for him to leave with a shaky finger. Her other hand was still pushing her heart back into her chest. “There is no coming back.”

The front door slammed in his face and triggered a final fissure in his heart that had his heart and soul shattering into a million jagged pieces on the rain-soaked ground. 

A firm hand on his shoulder made him jerk forward, twisting on his heel. A soldier through and through, he started to go on the defensive. Just as he reached for his attacker, he realized it was Lorcan and dropped his hands, shaking his head to clear his mind of the memory.

 Lorcan’s eyebrows knit together in confusion as he said, “I said your name twice.” 

 “Sorry. What’s up?” Rowan hadn’t meant to be so wrapped up in his thoughts as he stood on the back porch. A mirror image of the gloomy gray sky reflected on the surface of the swimming pool. The sound of the door slamming in his face still echoed in his ears, but he didn’t know if it was the past or present that haunted him. Probably both. 

 “I want to go over what needs to be done this week,” Lorcan told him, nodding toward the house. Through the windows, he could see everyone lounging on the couches and chairs that made up the formal living room. Each of them held a folder; Aelin’s was in her lap, where she curled up in the corner of the couch. Deft fingers twined her damp hair into a braid over her shoulder. Lorcan’s eyes followed his gaze as he braced his hands on his hips. “Do you need to talk about it before we go in?” 

“I don’t know what there is to say.”

 “Look, I am by no means any sort of authority on relationships, but the fact that you two can barely be in the same room without starting a fight shows how deep it all goes. You sure as fuck aren’t over it–” Lorcan gave him a stern look when he opened his mouth to object, then continued, “And neither is she. You can both act like you don’t care, but you do. At some point, an olive branch needs to be extended one way or the other. Otherwise, it will stack up to messy mistakes in the field and you’ll both drag everyone else down with you. I can’t allow that. So find a truce. Wave your white flag if you fucking have to. Talk about it. Fuck it out. I don’t care. But don’t let it compromise the job.” 

 Rowan nodded, hands sliding into his pockets as he took a deep breath. All of those things were easier said than done. If they were ever going to talk it out, they would both have to come to some peace with the past and present. Right now, he wasn’t sure how to do that. His behavior had clearly torn into her with a jagged blade, the same way her leaving him did. Both had raw, gaping wounds that were still bloody from the battle. The time apart had done nothing to heal either of them. If anything, it made it worse. 

 There wasn’t ever supposed to be so much distance, time, or emotion stretched between them, to begin with. Rowan could strut around like he didn’t care all he wanted to, but he did care. Looking at her made it hard to breathe. 

 “Did you ever, at any point in your relationship, tell her about what happened to Lyria?” Lorcan asked, just as Rowan took a step toward the house. His teeth snapped together so hard that it hurt, narrowly missing a bite of his tongue. “Maybe start there.”

“I don’t think it would matter at this point.”

 “Not that I don’t think she’s a swaggering asshole ninety-nine percent of the time or anything–” Rowan snorted, looking back at Aelin through the window. She was looking back. “– But she isn’t a bitch. Not all the time, anyway.”

 Part of him wanted to throttle Lorcan for talking about her that way, but their personalities had always been mixing oil and water. Even still, Lorcan would never hold his personal relationship against her. She was far too good of an asset. 

 “Can I ask something of you?” Rowan inquired, restlessly scratching the back of his neck. His eyes didn’t leave Aelin’s, and she tilted her head curiously. Almost as if, despite their fight, she was trying to inquire if he was okay. 

 “Of course.” Rowan sidestepped out of view, not wanting her to read his lips as he looked at his commander. Lorcan leaned against the table that decorated the patio, an open and caring demeanor slipping into place. 

“If anything on this mission goes sideways, if it ever comes down to a split second when it has to be her or me… I don’t care if it’s a temporary thing where you come back for me later or we’re both bleeding out somewhere, whatever the situation is. If shit goes down and it’s her or me, you take her.” Green eyes bore fiercely into onyx ones. Lorcan’s eyes widened in surprise and something that looked a little like fear.  

“Rowan…” He wasn’t one to leave a man behind, but Rowan knew all too well that sometimes it became a necessary call to make. When forced with a split-second decision about who lived or died, the luxury of time to juggle your choices didn’t always exist. This oath would take the struggle out of it. 

 “Promise me that you will get her out first.” He hated the way his voice cracked like the fissures in his heart. Hated that he was prepared to fall to his knees and beg if it might save her life at any point in the future. Yet he knew that he would if Lorcan refused. The bad terms he and Aelin were on didn’t matter. Rowan would never forgive himself or his comrades if he woke up and something had happened to her. “Promise me, Lorcan.”

 He wished he could tell himself it was for selfish reasons. That he was asking to clear his conscience should it ever become a reality. Deep down, he knew it had nothing to do with that, though. It had nothing to do with guilt and everything to do with her and the wildfire of unresolved feelings that haunted his waking and sleeping hours. 

 Rowan tried to get over her. Attempting to lose himself through sex with other women had been a fruitless endeavor. No amount of boiling showers had made him feel clean, like any level of intimacy with someone that wasn’t Aelin left behind an oily residue he couldn’t wash away. After the third time, he quit trying. It felt too much like cheating on her, like betraying her, even if she had been the one to leave him. 

 He had followed her career over the last two and a half years. Though she had passed on another deployment when she thought he would too, months after the breakup, he heard she was back in it. Lorcan had passed him details of her missions, and Rowan had a mental list of every injury she had ever received. Nothing had been remotely close to life-threatening, but he felt every one of those wounds like they’d happened to him. It had been difficult not to follow up with her directly to see if she was okay, but she was better off without him. Of that, he was certain. 

Being part of the same unit, he would do whatever he could to protect her. It hadn’t surprised Lorcan when Rowan declared he would always choose her first the morning she arrived. The commander made him swear that it wouldn’t compromise any missions, and it wouldn’t. But for Rowan, if the choice were anyone else or Aelin, he would save Aelin first. Now he needed to be sure someone else would choose her over him. 

“Okay. I promise,” Lorcan finally swore, his eyes saying that he hoped for all the world it never came down to it.

When they made their way inside, there were two seats available. One was smack dab between Aelin and Fenrys; the other was an overstuffed chair near the window. Rowan knew for a fact that the two blondes had been sitting side by side moments earlier and knew that one or both of them had done this on purpose. They lived in a constant state of scheming and had been driving Rowan insane from the moment their friendship began.

Lorcan hijacked the chair, which left Rowan to drop onto the sofa between Bonnie and Clyde. He swore the commander was fighting off his smirk while settling into the chair away from the drama. Bastards. All of them were bastards. It was starting to feel like everyone had been part of a private meeting on the best ways to drive Rowan insane with Aelin around. 

“Here,” Aelin said softly, nudging his arm with a folder. Nodding his thanks, he flipped it open and began skimming the pages while Lorcan got into what the next few days would look like. Every breath he took was more shallow than it needed to be, but he would lose his mind if he inhaled deep enough to smell her jasmine shampoo. 

He tried to focus on Lorcan’s words, but sitting beside Aelin was a distraction in itself. The promise their commander had just made soothed a small part of his chest, even if he thought she would throttle him if she ever found out about it. The woman beside him was more than capable of taking care of herself, yes, but Rowan needed that security blanket to fall back on if things went to hell.

 Aelin nudged him with her elbow, and he blinked, looking into her quizzical gaze. It was strange to find a hint of concern hidden behind the brilliant band of gold around her iris. With a shake of his head, he looked at the folder in his lap and tuned his ears to Lorcan’s voice. Right. Now was definitely not the time to think about this. 

 They would start by surveilling the notorious Glass Castle. It was imperative they find out how easily the outside guards could be distracted and bribed. While they had inside contacts close to the prince working with them under extremely delicate conditions, they needed to see if anyone was willing to waver. Finding the weak links could lead to it all being over before an assassination attempt began.

 The Prince’s closest and really only friend was his captain of the guard. Through their contacts, he agreed to work with them on the castle’s blueprints and help them however he could. If everything went smoothly, nobody would die, lose their jobs, or be accused of treason, and in the process, their president would be safe from the fallout.

“We need to take passport photos in the morning, and someone is coming by tomorrow afternoon to stage some pictures of our Duke and Duchess over here.” Rowan and Aelin’s heads both snapped up at neck-breaking speed.

“What?” Rowan said, eyes darting to Aelin. There was no way in hell she would be okay with this.

“All of the royals in Fenharrow have websites,” she answered for Lorcan. “Do I get to wear a pretty gown?”

“You’ll wear whatever shows up, and you won’t give anybody any shit about it,” was the commander’s flat response. Aelin’s smoldering gaze told him she would do as she pleased, but her eyes wandered back down to the pages in her lap. If the wardrobe weren’t to her taste, they would surely hear about it no matter what Lorcan said.

“Box dye is going to absolutely ruin our hair.” Rowan didn’t know anything about that. According to his passport, he had blonde hair and brown eyes. Curiosity got the better of him, and he leaned a little toward Aelin to see what hers said. With a flick of her wrist, it was turned toward him so he could see better. Red hair, green eyes. Rowan had a hard time imagining it.

“Are you going to complain the whole time?” Lorcan snapped. Aelin, to her credit, grinned.

 “Maybe. It’s fun getting under everyone’s skin so easily.” 

It felt like a jab with one of the daggers she favored. A quick stab into his back, the twist of the blade as it sunk deeper. Rowan sat up straight and tried to keep from crumpling the papers in his hands.

It might not be an outright bloody war, but every vaguely altruistic word that left her mouth made him tenser than any gunfight ever did.

 ~*~

A book lay open upon the pillow in her lap, eyes skimming the pages when Rowan soundlessly opened the door and slipped into their room. He was clearly hoping she would be asleep when he came to bed to avoid any awkward interactions or heated arguments. Aelin was too tired for anything beyond a few pulled punches tonight and closed her book. The t-shirt he wore was pulled over his head in a single, fluid motion, and he slipped between the sheets. After placing her nightly read on the bedside table, she snuggled under the blankets. Rowan was on his back staring at the fan when she turned her light off. Aelin lay on her side, facing him straight on.

“This is… weird,” he admitted as the air deflated from his lungs in a deep sigh.

“Sleeping together or, however fake it may be, being married to me when you never wanted it in the first place?” Aelin wasn’t sure why flames kept spewing out of her mouth every time they spoke. Closure was what she was after, yet she knew it wouldn’t come this way. It was more of a defense mechanism than anything else.

“We aren’t doing this tonight, Aelin. I’m tired.” Rowan rolled onto his side, facing away from her, hand smacking at his pillow before he settled against it. 

Through the dim moonlight slipping through those sheer curtains, she could make out the scars on his back. Some she knew, others she didn’t. Without thinking, she reached out and touched one she didn’t recognize. Rowan’s inhale was sharp, shoulders expanding and muscles tightening beneath her fingers. As tense as he was, his body betrayed him in the form of goose flesh over his skin. 

“Rowan?” Aelin must have been imagining his jagged breaths. It sounded too much like shredding self-control to be real. 

“Yeah?”

“I’m sorry. For today, I’m sorry.” Doused in a burning tension, she traced her fingers over another pale scar on his back. Tears pricked her eyes over the featherlight touches she made, at the emotion that welled up in her throat. This sort of casual intimacy used to be second nature. Aelin hated that her fingers craved to touch more of him, all of him. They never thought about touching before; they just always were. It had once been necessary, vital even. Now he was a coiled asp ready to strike, waiting for the fighting words she couldn’t find. 

“Okay,” he finally whispered back on an exhale. 

“I didn’t mean to slam the door, either. I know you won’t believe me, but I–”

“I do believe you.” Her throat was suddenly tight as she swallowed, dropping her hand from his back. Sometime soon, she would ask how he got those new markings. Maybe Fenrys would have the answers if her cowardice won over and she couldn’t ask him herself.

“Okay,” she parroted, the word muffled by the blanket as she pulled it up and tucked her face into it. 

Seconds stretched into minutes before he rolled onto his back, head turning to face her. With her eyes more adjusted to the dark, she could tell he was looking at her. They didn’t say anything, just took each other in. It was the first quiet moment they’d shared since her arrival. Somehow, the heaviness of this moment was far more abundant than the times they were yelling.

“Were you talking about me when you said it’s fun to get under our skin?”

“I’ve always liked getting under your skin,” she teased, but he didn’t smile. Aelin’s own faltered, mouth twisted to the side as she considered it. Yes, she had. “It is fun but… I didn’t mean it quite how it sounded. I haven’t been picking fights with you the last few days for shits and giggles. I’m sure you aren’t doing it for that reason either.”

It’s what she wanted to believe, anyway. Perhaps it made her naive, but she knew Rowan. Even if they hated each other, they didn’t like causing the other unnecessary pain.

 “Why are we fighting then?” The bald vulnerability he gave had her mouth parting in surprise. Of all the ways she saw this first night going, a calm discussion was nowhere on the list. Murder definitely was, but this? 

 “I don’t think we know how to be around each other like this,” she said slowly. “We had moments of bickering when we first met, sure, but…” 

The words she wanted to say would strip her a little more bare than she wanted to be, yet she wasn’t ready to let the moment go. Rowan saw her hesitation and waited patiently, eyes scanning her face as though he could sneak into her mind and steal the thoughts for himself. Tomorrow the fires would rage again but for tonight? Tonight she would settle close to the truth without laying it all at his feet.

“But?” Aelin sighed and shook her head.

“We’ve always been intense,” she shrugged a shoulder. “Now that we aren’t in love, I guess it’s just going to be in the form of verbal sparring and screaming matches. Maybe a few physical blows during training.”

Aelin averted her eyes, slipping her fingers out from beneath the blanket to inspect her nails. It probably looked as stupid as it felt, considering she could hardly see, but Rowan didn’t call her on it. Nor did he point out how unlike her it was to balk from a conversation, yet here she was, being a coward and avoiding his gaze. It was a half-truth wrapped up in a teasing taunt at best and clearly not the answer he sought.

It wasn’t fair that he still had her tied up in so many knots. For years she paraded around, pretending she was over it and it didn’t matter anymore. Not being in love with Rowan was one of the biggest lies she’d ever told, one she whispered to herself every time she found him looking at her. It was a foolish, stupid mask she wore to hide the pain of the ugly, bleeding truth of everything. 

Rowan handled it better than she did, and it hurt more than she would ever admit. 

@elentiyawhitethorn @autumnbabylon @fancysludgeshoelamp  @wordsafterhours @live-the-fangirl-life @the-hospitality-of-knives @tangledraysofsunshine @readandlisten @westofmoon @rowanaelinn  @morganofthewildfire @writtenonreceipts @feynightlight @emster1622-blog @scarblx @thefaetrove @loveyatopluto @actuallybarb @peppermint-fae @the-devils-own @scottmcgivemeacall @livingmylifeforme  @wordsafterhours @foreverfallingforthestars @llyncooljones @emily-gsh @loosesimplicity @emilyrose111294  @charlizeed @aelinchocolatelover @cretaceous-therapod @sayosdreams @fireheart-violet @the-regal-warrior @backtobl4ck @shyvioletcat @bellasbookboyfriends @icantfindmychashma @swankii-art-teacher

[felixravinstills]

the ravinstill family is actually normal, well adjusted, and loving (i’m genuinely curious what they would look like without all that….ravinstillness)

ask game

Lily, I'm gonna be so real. I think I chose the most not fulfilling your request way to fulfill your request.

I think to try and keep them the same people while also trying to get them anywhere near normal, well-adjusted, and loving (outwardly. inwardly, I think they all genuinely care for each other. they're just bad at it), I introduced Time Traveling! Max... A character who is actively talking to his brother (wow!)

Unfortunately, we have only moved from no communication basically to... uh selective communication. And also today, we can momentarily glance over at Max's brother who I do think about a lot. He's weird too. Like in my mind... all the Ravinstills are weird.

Anyway, thanks for the ask!

Snippet below:

Felix was a loud and fussy baby.

“He’s not like that when he’s older,” Max had told him when Albanus had remarked upon it.

Albanus had nodded. He was the one who is only half-listening now as he rocked his newest grandson in his arms.

That other time— that other world, it hardly matters to him. Half the time, he’s not convinced it’s anything more than his brother’s imagination.

Besides, time proves Max wrong. Sure, Felix doesn’t cry as much, but he’s chattering away like Albanus did when he'd been that age. At the age of five, He’s all smiles and his favorite thing to do is have his parents swing him up into the air as they walk down the Corso.

Leaning his arms on the railing beside the stairway of the Presidential Palace, Albanus asks if his brother if prefers this version of Felix to the quiet one he remembers in his head. He stand in the ensuing silence, watching Max's jaw work and brow furrow.

After a moment, he shrugs.

“I should care, I think, that he’s different,” Maximinius says after another beat. He opens his mouth to speak again, and then closes it.

Albanus smiles. Both are his grandson, so to Max, it doesn't really matter if he's changed.

"Some of him is the same," Max offers, and Albanus doesn't ask him to elaborate.

He doesn’t ask why Maximinius only really talks about Marius, Gnaeus, and Felix from that other world. He only likes listening to the topic, because he knows that Max hasn't shared his supposed memories with Volumnia. It's nice having one over on her.

He watches Max watch the rest of their family— Albanus' brood of children and grandchildren. The two youngest of Albanus' grandchildren get along today which is a relief. Kassandra loves to be a little instigator, and Felix gets uncomfortable when she speaks ill of their great-uncle.

Today, she's braided his hair, and now, she's painting his nails. She's got a shade of blue for each finger, or so she says. Felix is quite excited about it.

“He’s happy now, because of what you’ve done here," Albanus tells his brother, because he needs to know that he forgives him for all the things that didn't happen.

Max looks at him. It’s a familiar expression. It’s the one he wears looking at , observing the changes.

Albanus raises a finger before he can open his mouth again.

"I don't want to know."

Maybe Albanus has changed from that imagined time in Maximinius' mind. he can’t say for sure if he has. It might be for the best that he never knows for sure.

He remembers when they were children, and his words went in one of Max's ears and out the other. His brother had always seen him as an idiot, and you don't confide in an idiot unless you're crazy enough to believe you've got some second chance at life after fucking it up the first time.

Albanus thinks he should care about that, but Max was his brother and that old world wasn't this one.

His eyes return to the scene below him.

Perhaps, that is their family's problem. They can't bring themselves to care for much of anything except each other.

The children have not yet noticed the president and their grandfather peering down at them.

Albanus shakes his head as he watches three bottles of open nail polish tip over onto the beautiful red rug.

Four teenagers and one young adult scramble to minimize the damage while Felix and Kass start pointing fingers— badly painted ones at one another. It's neither of their faults, they say.

Beside him, Max clears his throat, and all heads turn towards them.

It's not good for the children to know the extent of what they can get away with, so Albanus prepares to care about the rug.

[bepisbee]

Till Death do us Part 9

Chapter 9 My love mine all mine, CHAPTERS Read on a03

“Ooooh!” The tailor brightened at the view of her two favorite messes walking in. They held a basket covered in a cloth that was steaming from the temperature difference outside. “Good morning!~ What a lovely surprise.” Shadow was wearing the outfit she had tailored for them, the hood up. Their overlong ears poked their tips into the mass. Shadow pulled it down and blew into their hands.

“Fuck it’s freezing out this early!”

She laughed and put a hand on their back, leading them inside. “Well, come in! You aren’t going to warm up in the doorway.” Vio was silently observing the situation, stepping in. “I have some things for you both to try on.”

Shadow handed her the basket. “Thanks! These are for you,”

“Oh my, how sweet,” She beamed, “Thank you.” She happily took a croissant and made a face when biting into it with a clink. “Haha oh.” She pulled out a kinstone. “Well, young friend, fuse?” Farore held it out to Shadow. They looked over at Vio in confusion. Vio handed them his kinstone bag. “Go for it, love. Try to find a piece that slots into that one, supposedly good things will happen.” Vio leans against the wall, curious. Shadow dug through to find the odd shaped green token that would fit.

“Ah!” They found it, and pressed it into the other half. It twirled into the air and floated through the ceiling. “Woah.” They blinked.

“Good job, Maybe something good will happen soon,” she winked at Vio. “Now, come try this on.” She waved them into the changing rooms where a few outfits sat. Different seasonal versions of Shadow’s current, some for Vio, and for the two of them some traditional clothing. Very similar but opposite in colors where Vio’s had purple Shadow’s had black. Both with silver and gold accents respectively. Although neither of them could see the other’s clothing.

Naturally it all fit perfectly.

Vio in a suit coat, no ties or bows, deeply purple and violet with black and silver for buttons and chains. A tailcoat that made him feel fancy and sophisticated. For once, as he looked in the mirror, he was satisfied. He hadn’t thought about how he looked for a long time. A small open sheath sat on the belt’s hip where he could pull it with his dominant hand. Shiny classic boots with a small heel on them. Vio hummed, he really liked that. That surprised him. He assumed the sheath was for their daggers. Vio played with his hair in different fashions.

“I’d recommend a braid down the back, or pulled up with a clamp clip.” He jumped as Farore stood behind, gently taking his blonde locks and shaping them into the shapes. “Hm, yes. Nayru would be better at this but…” She hummed and trailed off, twirling his hair up and pinning it with two metal sticks that had her and Nayru's symbols on the ends. It was then he noticed the two clips on his collar were that of Din and then the mark on his chest. Vio looked up and met her eyes on the mirror's surface. Something beyond intelligence and wisdom swam in her eyes. An essence of life, sparking.

She held his gaze, hands on his shoulders. “It is not just the clothes. It is you, You are becoming okay with who you are. That is good,” her voice was soft and warm, he imagined it is what a mother would sound like. “Look at yourself, in the eyes.” he hesitated to break their eye contact but did so. Ice blue, stone cold.

“ You are enough .” The coldness faltered for a moment. Something deep inside him cracked. Walls that surrounded him, beginning to crumble. It lasted only a moment before he bottled it in, eyes stilling once again. “You will believe me one day, Violet.” Farore lets him go. “Because I do not lie.” She gave a caring smile. He expected pity, but only found honest love and care. More of the wall crumbled off as she walked away to Shadow’s curtained off section. Perhaps she also had some words for them.

Vio swallowed thickly, looking at himself once again.

This was his idea. Why was he nervous ? His hair, he had decided on, now in its long neat braid. His face outlined in makeup borrowed from the Princess behind him. A simple eye liner and some contour with blush. He appeared more alive than he had felt in a long time. Zelda came over and hummed at him then undid the first two buttons on the blouse, barely revealing the mark above his heart.

“Better.” She smiled at him. “Oh, relax. It’s just us,”

“Yeah for the ceremony. Somehow the entire fucking town got a reception invite.”

“You are such a drama queen.” She bent over to apply some make up to herself. “It’s not that many, mostly the people you all helped. Some villagers, Marin and her family, some of the Gerudo women. Honestly there are more Minish attending than actual Hylians.” she snorted. “You might even get Ezlo to drag his old butt out here. The three sisters are going,” Zelda’s eyes shone. “It's going to be fun!” she clapped him on the back. “I even got an aged dark red- don’t give me that look, I know you stole one from the castle during your adventure for debauchery. Shadow would never shut up about you, though I know now it was a date . I don’t know how I could have missed it.” 

Vio took a step back from his form. “Do you think they’re only doing this for me? They’ve been weirdly quiet all week.” Vio frowned. “I keep… I keep thinking that maybe they feel obligated to? But then they turn around and do something sweet, or want to… ahem. Show affection.”

“You haven’t noticed?” Zelda laughed. “They are just as obsessed over you as you are of them. They just cope with guilt and stress with sex.”

“I-I’m sorry!?” he coughs, flabbergasted.

“Vio.” she pats his shoulder. “The Inn has thin walls. And runs the gossip mill. And don’t think I didn’t notice when you two snuck off to the supply closet after meeting with me Monday. Or the fact that everytime Shadow gets uncomfortable he makes an inappropriate joke or turns it into a joke about sex with you.” She lost it as Vio’s scandalized expression, holding his shoulder as support while her bent form shook with pearls of laughter. Vio’s blush rampaged across his pale skin.

“Shut up! Oh my Gods- please shut up.” Vio slapped her hands off making mock gag noises. “Eww. You’re pretty much our sister, don't talk about our sex life, that's gross!” Vio dramatically huffed and left her at the mirror to sulk in a nearby chair, arms crossed.

“...” Until he realized what he just said.

“Vio,” Zelda gushed and made to hug him. He avoided it standing back up.

“ Nope. Do not make this weird.” He protested walking to the window, looking down. The garden was all set up, chairs in two rows and a small arch weaved with flowers. Where they came from he had no idea. The actual party was being held in a sectioned off area of the field he couldn’t see from here. He watched as people set up and stood in places. “......”

“Hey,” Zelda gave him his distance this time. “You’re going to be fine. Shadow loves you, idiot.” 

It really was a small affair. Shadow rocked on their heels, tailcoat swaying about. Their heels a little larger than Vio’s just how they liked it. In chairs were, of course, Green, Red, and Blue. In fancy tunics and Green in a pantsuit that could pass for both feminine and masculine depending on body language. The pretty dangling earrings indicated her feminine intent though. Green caught their gaze and smiled reassuringly. Link’s father sat next to Zelda’s and Grandpa Smith. A few castle workers and knights that were fond of the various heroes filled the rest along with Marin and a few others Shadow didn’t recognize. Zelda was at the front with Shadow. Sneaking in the back where four chairs sat was the three sisters. Their vibrant hairs stood out in the crowd.

Shadow’s attention shifted over as they spotted Vio. They didn’t want any long ran sappy walk up. It was simple. He stuttered in step when he saw them. He hadn’t realized they had mirroring outfits. Shadow’s hair had those cute pins in it, just long enough for a small bun in the back. Their clothing mirrored his, buttons and colors and chains and all. And their face, dolled up but in no way covering the light freckles that had been slowly appearing across their nose and cheeks. Their hopeful expression, clearly rattled with nerves about all the company around them. Vio came up and took their hand.

“....hi.” he breathed out. What was he supposed to say again? Zelda giggled and hid it in her gloved hand. He had recited this over and over and over, but not the only thing he could think about was Shadow. Being here, being alive, being with him .

“Hi.” Shadow grinned and raised their eyebrows, amused. That was not what he was supposed to say.

“I.. You uh… you look really nice.” Vio cleares his throat. He felt the heat creeping up the back of his neck, the stares of an also amised crowd watching intently. He was absolutely not going to say his line.

“Haha, thank you darlin…” They tugged them over to the wooden box on the table. Shadow looked at him meaningfully. They flicked the lid latch and offered him a shining dagger. They were similar, like the outfits. A black handle pommel with the design Shadow had etched into the blades of each. Vio offered them theirs, the same but backwards to be right handed. on the ends an “S” and “V” in swirly calligraphy.

Where the audience couldn’t see, they deftly sliced their palms shallow as they passed the dagger, pommel out and sharp edge facing in, and pressed them together. A tiny detail they were both keeping for themselves. Shadow smiled slyly, their little secret. After sheathing the blades they were met with a beaming Zelda. She tied a ribbon around their clasped hands.

“May you forever be bound in your ties of love.” It was simple and meaningful.

Vio leaned into Shadows ear, smirking deviously and whispered, “Till death do us part,~” Knowing full well that wasn’t true. Shadow couldn’t hold back the matching smile, but covered the snicker.

“Hey, this is the part where you kiss.” Zelda stage whispered, earning a laugh from the onlookers. Shadow shrunk a little, suddenly back to being aware it wasn’t just the two of them. Vio hummed and kissed them warmly.

“I love you,” they sighed into his lips. “No death will ever keep us apart. I promise.”

When they looked back up to the cheering crowd, everyone standing, a woman was sitting in the fourth chair. It was the beautiful figure he had seen that night. She sat elegantly in a deep blue dress with black trimmings and a small black hand fan hiding her face while she gently scooped air at it. Her eyes, however, were crinkled up and shining as if smiling brightly. She almost looked proud. Before he could get any closer the crowd moved inwards obscuring her and then she was gone..

They stole away afterwards in private, to bandage their hands while the rest went to party. It was still early in the evening. After way too many people hugging and hand clapping and hand shaking they needed a few moments alone. Shadow was starting to get claustrophobic. If they spent a good amount of time making out, who would know?

When they made it out to the field it was bustling. Food on tables, drinks being generously poured. Light music wafted from a warm up. The townsfolk might not be so fond of them, but they didn’t care much about who when a party was involved.

In a sectioned off area sat the sister, the blue haired one playing a harp, the red haired one swaying and jangling with bangles and tambourine. Farore sat nearby, in support and beside them was the woman. She was singing in a hauntingly beautiful tone.

“ Moon, a hole of light

Through the big top tent up high

Here before and after me

Shinin' down on me

Moon, tell me if I could

Send up my heart to you?

So when I die, which I must do

Could it shine down here with you?”

Vio relaxed, looking around. Everyone was busy dancing, drinking, and talking. Shadow slipped away and grabbed them some glasses of something bubbling and peach in color.

“I dunno what this is, but it’s nice.” They handed one glass to him. Vio drank most of it, nervous to be around so many people with Shadow and only a ceremonial dagger for defense. He couldn’t exactly use his powers out here. Shadow beamed and followed suit. It wasn't their first time drinking anyways. They smiled fondly, maybe they could find some of that root beer whiskey left in the fire tower. They glanced at Vio who was shaking anxiously. “Hey. Darlin.” They pulled his attention. “No worries today okay? Come dance with me.”

“I don’t know how.”

“Where have I heard that before?” They smirked, thinking back to the tower. Getting Vio trashed and drunk dancing until they fell onto the floor in a giggling mess.

“'Cause my love is mine, all mine

I love, my, my, mine

Nothing in the world belongs to me

But my love, mine, all mine, all mine”

“No one here can dance sweetheart,” Shadow took his hand and got no resistance. They pulled him past Green and Red laughing at failing to dance themselves. They spun him into them and swayed with him. “Just have fun.”

“My baby here on Earth

Showed me what my heart was worth

So when it comes to be my turn

Could you shine it down here for her?”

The woman's voice swelled, despite having no way to, infiltrated the sounds of the crowd and weaved across the plains. As the sun began to set, it bathed them all in oranges and reds. Shadow ignored anyone looking at them, taking Vio across and through. He laughed when they stumbled into him and he caught them in his chest.

“Careful, love.”

Vio kissed them deeply, in a slight dip, hand across their back firmly. A slip of Shadow’s tongue made his eyes flash and the torches around the party flare up and turn purple. A shriek pulled them away from someone standing too close.

“Oops.” Vio winced while Shadow cackled. “Hahahaa, That’s new.” Vio flushed and pulled them back off the floor, worn out. No one seemed to care all that much about the color change. They spotted Farore giggling at them from across the way.

Blue surprised them, slapping a hand on Shadow’s back.

“Hey! Those daggers turned out great!” She beamed. “You mushy bastards. 

Congratulations!” 

Red and Green joined up in the conversation, carrying over a tray of dark wine glasses courtesy of Zelda. They all took one and toasted to life, and love, and magic, and a few other sappy bits people shouted. Vio sipped, a few steps away. Something they said made Shadow laugh really hard, tears sprinkling in the corners of their eyes and hunched over.

Turning his gaze once more to the love of his life, being surrounded by the family he loved, Vio felt the rest of his walls crumbling down. His chest was light, and warm. He blamed it on the drinks but maybe, just maybe, things would turn out okay after all.

“'Cause my love is mine, all mine

I love, my, my, mine

Nothing in the world belongs to me

But my love, mine, all mine

Nothing in the world is mine for free

But my love, mine, all mine, all mine”

[morganski-19]

I Don't Know Which Way's Home

Chapter 6: The Inspection

ao3 link, Part 1, Part 5

tw: descriptions of a minor panic attack

February 1984

Julie watched in horror as her journal was ripped in half by Matthew Anderson. The person who has been torturing her all year, but never stooped to this level. She could deal with the name calling, the pulling on her ponytails and braids, the balls of paper that would be thrown at her in the halls. That was just him being an idiot and picking on the poor kid.

This, this hit differently.

Her journals were her life. Stories written down that were fabricated from her mind or truth she was never able to fully speak. Worlds crafted and characters created. Places she’s always wanted to visit or things she’s always wanted to do. These journals made her days less lonely. Made her life feel fuller.

And now there it lays on the ground ripped into pieces, while Mathew and his friends laugh at her tears. Solemnly, Julie picks up the pieces of her book and runs away, scared that staying there for even a second more would bring on more taunting.

She runs to the back of the school and hides below a staircase, crying over her lost words. Stories jumbles together, pages ripped apart. Everything she’s worked so hard on teared apart in minutes.

“Hey, are you ok?” a boy with a black bowl cut wearing a sweater asks her.

Julie just looks back at the mess in her hands, overwhelmed by it all over again. “They ripped it apart,” she whispers. “Just took it from me an destroyed it.”

“Bullies, they’re just a bunch of mouth breathers,” the boy sits next to her. “It doesn’t look too bad, you could probably tape it back together.”

“Maybe, doesn’t make it the same, though.”

Julie’s mom told her that this journal was sent by her dad. Part of her knew it was a lie, but the innocent part of her really wanted to believe that it was true. This journal was special, it was her yearly gift from her dad. She would write stories in it about happy families, hoping that this magical journal would make her dad show up. That way her mom could be happy again, she could be happy too.

“What was it?” the boy asks.

Julie lines up the pieces of paper into a small, organized stack. “Stories. I like to write sometimes.”

“That cool. My friend likes to draw stories. He says that the best thing about them is how you can create them with your own mind, that way no one can ever really take them from you.”

“I never thought about it that way.” She looks at the piles of stories again and imagines them differently. Instead of ruined castles and homes, she sees rebuilding after a long battle. She sees hope. “Thank you.”

The boy shrugs. “I’m Mike, by the way.”

“Julie.”

. . .

Present Day

Steve hangs up the phone with the owner of Family Video, smiling to himself and can’t help himself from doing a small fist pump. He got the job. Which isn’t a lot, considering he can’t see himself doing it for the rest of his life, but it’s one step closer to passing this inspection.

The inspection has been looming over his head for the past week. After the meeting with the social worker, Steve has been working double to make sure the house was presentable, even if it wasn’t supposed to happen quite yet. Going through each drawer, making sure everything is in its place. Making a small box of all of his upside down related items to find a nice hiding place outside of his house so that they won’t be found.

It was a lot, but it was worth it. There would finally be somebody else living in this house, someone who was family. Another person filling the mass of rooms that stayed empty for his entire life. And by someone who would stay.

Or at least, stay for longer than a week.

This whole placement thing was still weighing over his head. If he was honest with himself, he wanted to one day get permanent custody of Julie, but that wouldn’t be for the best. With all that she’s been through, she deserved someone more stable than him. But he could provide her with a safe place to live where she actually liked, so that was enough.

And maybe when the time came to find a permanent placement, he would be stable enough to get it. If that ever would be a possibility.

But that would involve a better job than retail, his own place and not his parents. No more nightmares and a better explanation for his many scars. A less marked medical history and probably one less NDA than he has signed.

As much as Steve hoped, it didn’t seem feasible. It didn’t seem in reach. The family he’s found would leave again, and he couldn’t stop it. But he wanted to.

Eddie and Robin let themselves in through the front door, promising to help Steve get the house actually ready for the inspection. Since it’s in shambles from his weeklong obsessive searching for every possible thing that could be wrong. There were papers everywhere and things out of place. It needed to be put back together. And Eddie offered to hide out the upside down stuff at his new house, so that was helpful.

“Jesus, dingus,” Robin looks disgusted as she scans the mess, “the hell did you do?”

Eddie does a soft whistle, making his own observations. “Blew up in the living room?”

Steve sighs. “I know it’s bad. Just help, please.”

“Why we’re here.” Robin starts making small piles, organizing the mess.

Eddie grabs a few of the larger items, and brings them to the kitchen, placing them all on the table to be distributed later. Room by room they go through and put everything back to where it was, making sure nothing is out of place. Eventually it ends with Steve and Eddie in his room, gathering up some discarded clothing to be taken to the laundry room.

Steve is mentally checking off a list in his head, adding new things one after another of what he has to do. Clean the kitchen, clean the bathrooms, make sure the guest room beds are made and presentable, make sure there are no visible dangers in the house, check the railings for lose poles. Things he doesn’t even need to do but can’t help but think are necessary.

If this doesn’t go perfectly than what else is he supposed to do. Julie will be stuck in a terrible household until her social worker caves and moves her to another town. He’ll lose the only biological family that’s ever cared about him. All of this will have been for nothing. Julie will be let down and devastated, he’ll be devastated. It’ll all go terribly, and she’ll never talk to him again.

He'll be left alone in this house again. For God knows how long. He can’t move, can’t leave it behind for some reason. It just sits vacant with only him in it. And soon enough the kids will all go away to college, leaving him behind too. Robin will save enough money to go eventually too. Eddie will finally do what he always says and get the hell out of town. Leaving Steve in an empty house with no one around that loves him anymore.

A broken, empty house that has a million things wrong with it. So many things that this will never happen. They’ll see right through to the scared kid he still is but tries to hide. They’ll see the ghost that lives in his backyard. The pain and fear inside of him will come pouring out in the worst way possible. He’ll be deemed as unfit and this will all be for nothing. It’s always for nothing.

“Steve,” Eddie’s voice breaks through his thoughts. “Breathe. In, and out.”

Steve does what he said. Breathing deeply through his nose, not noticing how tight his chest had become. Breathing out through his mouth, hearing how shaky it is. He repeats it again and tries to stop the train on indefinite tracks in his mind, seemingly breaking off from itself and going in a million different ways. Each new branch clouding his thoughts and increasing the panic more.

“That’s good, now again.” Eddie breathes with him, making him hold his breath just slightly to help calm down his heartrate. He guides Steve to sit down on his bed, sitting next to him and taking his hand. Counting him through his breathes until the tightness alleviates, and he can breathe normally again.

“Thank you,” Steve breathes out, slouching a bit.

Eddie rubs his thumb across the back of Steve’s hand, squeezing it just slightly. Warmth radiating through the touch, making Steve want to lean in closer and absorb it.

“What’s wrong?” he asks softly.

Steve takes another deep breath through his nose. “What if this doesn’t work? What if I’m doing all of this for nothing?”

“You’re not,” he says pointedly. “Even if this doesn’t work out, it shows that you tried. That you care about her. Trust me, that means so much more than you realize. For both her and for the social worker. The courts might think differently if you want to take this further, but for temporary, you’re good. Ok?”

He meets Eddie’s eyes, immediately feeling the pull in them. “Ok,” he says, feeling himself start to get lost.

It takes a lot for Steve to let himself go around people, to put down his guard. But here in this moment, he would give it every single time just to get Eddie to look at him like this again. Just pure care in his eyes, gazing over Steve’s face to make sure everything’s ok. Wanting nothing more to this moment then to make sure he’s ok.

“What if everyone leaves me?” Steve whispers his fears so silently he hopes Eddie doesn’t hear. “Robin and the kids will head off to school. Julie will eventually too. And you’re never going to stay in this town. I’ll be all alone again.”

Eddie’s eyes meet Steve’s again and he lets out all the breath in his lungs. Just taken away by the simple beauty of Eddie’s face. He reaches up gently slides his hand across Steve’s neck, just barely cupping his chin. Steve leans into the touch, letting the warmth of Eddie’s hand ground him.

“I’m not leaving, not without you. Neither is Robin, and the kids will always come back. All of them will.”

Steve grabs Eddie’s wrist and holds his hand in place, letting himself sit in this moment. How he ever let himself say no to having this sooner, he doesn’t know. Because in this moment, there’s nothing more he wants then to lean in and capture Eddie’s lips with his. Take back everything he’s said and just dive in headfirst.

When Eddie’s eyes flick down to his lips just slightly, it makes it a million times harder for Steve to want to pull away. But he has to. This is the wrong time, there are things to do, he almost just went into a panic attack. Everything wants to stop him, but he can’t seem to listen to it. Slowly, he starts to lean in.

“Yo, dingus one and dingus 2, I can’t clean a house by myself,” Robin yells from behind the door, breaking the moment.

Steve pulls back, clearing his throat. “We’re coming, calm down.”

Before he can pull his hand away from Eddie’s, a small kiss is placed to the back of it. Warmth enveloping his hand before the coldness washes it all away when they let go. Soon, Steve promises. Soon he’ll be ready for this.

. . .

Julie is waiting in line at lunch when Dustin walks up to her. She rolls her eyes, ready to walk away before he can get in another line of questioning.

“Hi,” he states cheerily, with a stupid smile.

“Hi,” she responds crossly, hoping that it will show him that she’s not in the mood.

Dustin seems unaffected, continuing to follow her through the lunch line. “So, about a few days ago-.”

“It’s fine,” she cuts him off. “You were just curious about your friend. It’s fine.” Julie picks the last of her food and heads over to her usual table.

“I wanted to apologize,” Dustin follows. “I acted like a jerk, and I wanted to say that I’m sorry for making you uncomfortable.”

She sets her tray down on the table and looks at him. A sheepish expression paints his face, and an awkward stance almost as if he wants her to ask him to sit.

“I forgive you,” she says, taking a seat.

“Good,” he says, still standing there.

After their last meeting, he can’t think that she would have invited him to sit with her almost immediately after the apology. It took him a few days just to give it to her anyway, it’s not like she’s that hard to find. But then he was close to Steve, so she should at least try to get to know him. If everything is going to work out the way that they hope, Julie will be seeing a lot of him, and the other kids that he looks after.

“Is there anything else?”

“It’s just,” Dustin sits, without an invitation. “I can’t wrap my head around the idea of Steve having a sister.”

Julie stabs at her food. “Well, it’s true. Living proof right here.”

“No, yeah. I get that. I’ve just always known Steve to be an only child, like me. And now he’s not.”

“If it makes you feel better, he still kind of is. Our dad would rather pretend like I don’t exist.”

“So, you share a dad then?”

Julie stares across the table, “Really? You just apologized for the uncomfortable questions.”

Dustin squints his eyes again, before smiling. “I like you. Let’s start over. Dustin Henderson,” he extends his hand across the table. “Pseudo brother of Steve Harrington.”

“Julie Lawson,” she takes his hand warily and shakes it. “Half-sister of Steve Harrington.”

“That is still so weird,” he says, starting to eat his food.

. . .

“Harrington residence,” Steve mutters through the phone, filing through the mail as he does.

“Can you explain to me why your mother got a phone call last week about a job application of yours?” Richard Harrington speaks through the phone.

Steve’s body straightens on instinct with the voice, trained to present himself the best as possible. His mind races back to the resume he gave Keith, a revised one that he had applied with originally. But he forgot to take his mom off of the reference list when he added Hopper and Joyce. Her name was still there front and center.

“I had applied to be a manager at the video store I’m working at now. One is leaving and I thought I could take their spot.”

His father sighs through the phone. “Wishful thinking, Steven. You won’t just get jobs because you think you can take them. You must work hard for them.”

Steve’s mouth dries. “Well, I got the job. So, I must have worked hard enough for it.”

“Like you would know the meaning of hard work,” Richard chastises without missing a beat. “You didn’t even have to have a college degree to get this job. Those careers are never real hard work.”

Thoughts race in his mind but never reach the front for him to actually say them. His father doesn’t know how hard Steve’s works. Doesn’t know how much pain he’s been through. The thought hasn’t even crossed his mind that there are other things important in life other than work. Other than money.

But his dad will never understand. Never understand how much he’s truly failed in life. How much he’s failed Steve. So, Steve’s stays silent, like he always does.

“I thought you wanted me to understand the meaning behind hard work. That is what I am doing?”

“But for how long, Steven. How long are you going to go around and play the charade as if you are not a Harrington. You have a responsibility to me. To the family. Some day you are going to have to wake up and start your life, and we are not going to wait around forever for you to decide when that day is coming.”

Like you were ever here in the first place, Steve wants to say, but the words get stuck in his throat.

“Every time I think you have started to grow up you prove me wrong. You are still a child, Steven, and an immature one at that. Stop pretending that what you do doesn’t mean anything. Apply to schools again and get in this time. Get a real job, one that looks good on the family. We have a legacy that needs protecting, and you’re ruining it.”

Richard hangs up the phone before Steve can get a single word in.

He stands there for a few minutes, the buzzing from the phone line filling his ear. Stuck in the hopeless, fearful stance that happens after every phone call, every conversation. Every thought of his father that he has ever had.

Eventually, he hangs up the line. Eventually, he places his forehead against the wall and closes his eyes, letting them fill with tears. Letting them roll down his cheeks.

It took years for Steve to understand what he was meant to do and what he wanted to do. And even longer to understand that his father will never love him unless he did what he was meant to do. But every time he tried, he failed. Every time he did what he was told, what was planned, it never worked. It was never enough.

When the schools rejected him, he got a part time job. When Nancy and him ended, he went on the scheduled dates. When the world fucking ended and they weren’t here to witness it, he recovered in seclusion so nobody else would know. For his father. Always for his father and his fucking reputation. But it was never enough.

“You were never here,” Steve whispers to the wall. “You are never here.”

He stands straight again, taking a step back. Staring straight at the phone that his father spoke through however long ago.

“You don’t even know me.”

How can a parent know a child they didn’t even raise? How is a child supposed to live knowing their parents don’t love them? Questions with answers Steve’s been forced to answer. Questions that should have never even be asked.

Steve turns around to face the only family picture in the entire house. A professional taken when Steve was a child. His young face, innocent to what is to come, sits on his mother’s lap. All while his father looms in the background, standing behind them both, a hand on his mother’s shoulder.

“You know nothing about me,” Steve yells. “You have never stayed long enough to try. Not even once.”

Tears are streaming down his face, clouding his vision. His breath picks up, stuttering with sobs.

“I’m not ruining anything. You are the one ruining it. I have seen more than you can possibly imagine, and you call me immature. At least I wouldn’t cheat on my wife. At least I wouldn’t have another fucking kid and hide it from the world. Because I own up to my mistakes, I change. Despite you.”

Despite. Steve has become the person he is without his father’s influence. His proudest accomplishment. He has become the exact opposite of the man who he was supposed to be a clone of.

“Despite you,” he continues. “I found people who care about me. I’ve fought monsters, I’ve saved lives. Can you say the same? I’ve learned from my mistakes, I’ve changed. I’ve grown into a person that I actually like instead of hate. Because I hated myself when I was trying to act like you. And if you were actually here to see it, you would hate who’ve I’ve become. Because despite of you, I’ve become a better person that you could have ever hoped for me to be.”

Something heals itself inside of Steve. Something retreats. The little boy who he once was smiles at him, knowing that what he says is true.

Richard Harrington may have never stayed long enough to know his son. But that meant that his son never got to know anything about his father other than fear and disappointment. And through that disappointment, he grew. And there’s no turning back.

. . .

When Julie walks through the front door of Steve’s house, the lights are dark. It shouldn’t be surprising, she’s been there when he’s at work, but there’s mail on the hallway floor. She picks it up, stacking it gently on the hall table and continues through.

“Steve,” she calls out, walking into the living room. He’s sitting there in the dark, his elbows resting on his knees, face buried in his hands. “Shit, sorry. Do you have a migraine, I can leave.”

“No,” he says, lowering his hands, sitting up. “You’re fine.”

Something’s off. Steve’s hair is disheveled and there is slight redness around his eyes. A part of her wants to leave, let him be alone. He clearly was having some sort of moment. But when she thinks of this empty house, how empty it feels, she can’t leave him to it alone.

“Are you ok?” she asks quietly.

Steve scoffs, looking the other direction and shaking his head. “I’ve been better.”

She racks her brain of ways that her mom used to comfort her. The many things that failed, and how even when she tried her hardest, the sadness was still there. Talking about it always helped, though. Just to get the pain out of your system and have another person listen to it. For someone else to know your pain, for someone else to listen that it’s there.

It was never a lot, but it was something.

Julie walks over to the couch and sits on the cushion next to him. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Steve takes a moment before he finally says, “I know you probably got a lot of shit for not knowing your dad, and I know you probably wished you did on some level. But God am I jealous of you for never meeting him.”

“Is he really that bad?”

Steve leans back on the couch and crosses his arms, looking at the ceiling. “Yeah. But it’s more of the fact that I’ve never seen him long enough to know if he was any good.”

There was another thing that sometimes helped when she was feeling down. Similarities. People who could relate to her situation. Show that she wasn’t alone in the way she felt.

And while she couldn’t say that she knows exactly how Steve feels, but she can relate in her own way.

“When I was little,” she starts, “like really young, I would always ask when my dad would come home. When he would finally meet me. For a while, my mom would lie and tell me that my dad was in the army oversees, and that’s why he wasn’t around. And on Christmas, there would always be a gift that was from him. That was the most special present every year, because I could bring it in and prove to the other kids, to prove to myself, that I had a dad that loved me.”

She pauses, thinking back to the gifts that little her would line on her dresser. One for each year, each more special than the last. She would sit and stare at them, praying for a day where her dad would give them to her himself. Once she got older, the spell was broken. The lies were unraveled, and her world was shattered.

“Of course, I didn’t know they were really from my mom at the time. When I found out, I took everything that I thought was from him and put it in a box and went straight out to the dumpster. I wanted to throw them out, cry over the child that believed so hard for something that was never there. But I didn’t. After the lies faded, they were still gifts from one of my parents, it just happened to be my mom.”

The box still sat in her room for years later. Gifts that she couldn’t bear to give away, because it just proved how much her mom loved her. She pretended every year that Julie’s father was still around, just to give her daughter a sense of normalcy. Julie never appreciated it at the time, not until it was too late.

“I guess I’m trying to say that there’s sometimes a little good that comes from the bad. My dad was never around, and after a while, I didn’t want him to be. But my mom was. And those presents made me appreciate her more that she was.”

When she looks over at Steve, he’s looking back at her with a thoughtful look on his face. “She sounded great.”

She looks away from Steve for fear of crying.  “She was.”

“I’m sorry you lost her, I don’t think I ever said that.”

Julie has become so used to people saying sorry that the words don’t even affect her that much anymore. Not like they did a month ago. Everyone is sorry, but there’s nothing anyone can to do fix it.

“What’s your good?” she looks back at him.

Steve sighs, taking a moment to think. “Younger me would always wonder why he was never around, why he was never the one who raised me. But looking back, I’m sort of glad he didn’t. That way I turned out to be a better person than he was. He couldn’t raise me to be just like him. Even if he still tries.”

“Is that why all the lights are off, because he’s trying to?”

“Yeah, got a phone call from him today. Told me I was a disappointment because I got the manager job at Family Video.”

Julie sits up. “Oh my god. You got it. That’s great.”

“Not for him and his stupid legacy,” Steve grumbles, repeating what she can assume are his father’s own words.

“Forget him,” She insists. “This isn’t about him, it’s about you. You wanted the job, right?”

Steve shrugs. “Yeah. I did.”

“Then be proud of it. You got what you wanted. Not because of him, because of you. You did that. Own it.”

He smiles. “I guess I did do that.”

“Not guess, did.”

“Whatever,” he laughs, the mood in the room shifting. “Thank you.”

She shrugs, “What are no longer estranged siblings for?”

He snorts. “Cheering each other up about their same shitty dad, apparently.”

“Yeah, apparently.”

. . .

“Well, I think I’ve seen all of the house that I need to,” Sarah concludes, crossing something off on the clipboard she’s carrying. “There is just one more interview that we need to do.”

A slight weight lifts off Steve’s chest, just a slight one. The house inspection has been one of the most nerve-racking things in his life. Someone going through every room in his house and asking questions about the most random things. Looking at his life in one of the most personal ways possible.

“Ok,” Steve responds. “We can head to the kitchen if you’d like.”

Sarah nods and follows him to the kitchen, getting herself ready at the table.

“Would you like anything to drink?” Steve offers. She politely declines.

He sits across from her as she pulls out a file. Glancing quickly at the name and seeing his own across the tab. Papers filled with information about him. He doesn’t know how much she can get before he turned eighteen, but there was plenty past then that he hopes she has no access to.

The NDAs he’s had to sign especially. He might be legally required not to talk about them, but the fact that he has them at all could be concerning. But those records would be sealed, right?

“So, Steve, you live in this house alone?”

“For the most part. My parents also live here but haven’t been back in at least a year and a half.”

He remembers that because they showed up for his graduation. Most kids went out to dinner to celebrate the day. Steve had to sit through a lecture on how he was going to fix the fact that he didn’t get into any colleges.

She nods and glances over the papers in front of her again. Each second without a question making his pulse speed up.

“That’s a long time to be away from the house. Do you take care of all the needs while they are away?”

Steve nods. “Yes. I have been given the rights to upkeep the house. So, paying all of the bills on time, making necessary purchases, making sure everything is up to date and replacing anything that isn’t.”

“And how long have you been doing that?”

He has the strong urge to lie but thinks that could be dangerous. But what is worse, saying that he’s only been doing it for two years, or since he was sixteen.

“I started to take over some of these responsibilities when I was sixteen. But that was mostly the financial stuff. Other normal chores I’ve been doing for longer.”

Sarah makes an almost startled look before writing something down in her notes, flipping to the next page before continuing her questions. Asking how long his parents would normally be away. If there was any change they would come home in the near future. How frequent these trips were and when did they start.

“What I am getting here is you know the financials and other necessities of keeping a good house very well, Steve,” she says with a hint of concern. “Even before you became a legal adult.”

If she only knows the things he’s done, the things he’s seen before becoming a legal adult. “Yes, that’s true.”

“Alright, let’s move on to the rest of the basic questions.”

She asks him if there are any weapons in the house. Basic safety questions to ensure that the house is fit. Then moves on to asking about him. When he graduated high school, where he works. What he likes to do in his free time. What his strengths and weaknesses are. General interview questions to get a better assessment of his personal life.

“You’re doing fine, Steve. You can calm down,” she jokes, marking one last thing before moving on to the last question.

He laughs. “Was it that obvious?”

She nods. “It always is. I just have a few more questions for you and I will leave you be.”

“Alright,” he rubs his palms gently against his jeans.

“Why do you think you would be the right placement for Julie?” She asks it with a smile, trying to make him feel safe but her words only making him panic.

He takes a moment to settle himself, try to think of what to say without it being jumbled. All the reasons seem obvious but not enough. To get her out of a house she hates. To give her a home where she feels safe. Be able to help get her through the rest of her schooling and help her go to the college she wants. Support her through the rest of her life, even if it isn’t permanent.

To finally be able to have the family he’s always wanted.

“I want her to be able to have a home that she feels safe coming home to. For her to have somewhere that feels like a home, that feels like a family. When we first met, I didn’t know what was going to come of it. But I knew I wanted to help her.”

He takes a deep breath, trying to figure out the best way to put it.

“My father is a difficult man. He’s done a lot of things in his life that I don’t approve of, or would repeat. And I couldn’t help but think that I had to help her. She was a victim of his mistakes, something I knew how to manage. So, I got to know her. I reached out and waited for her to make the decision if she wanted to get to know me. And she did.”

Steve thinks back to the first few moments of meeting her. The sorrow for him in her eyes that came with the information she’d given him. Not even realizing that she’d given him the one thing he’s begged for since he was little. A sibling. He’d be stupid not to try to get to know her.

“I know I’m not what you normally see when it comes to potential guardians. And I know that there are people that are going to tell you that this is a bad idea. You might even think it yourself, without them telling you. But I care about Julie, and I want to make sure she’s in a house that can provide for her. That loves her. And if I’m not the best fit for it, if there’s someone better, I’m not going to stop it. But she seems to really like it here, she comes over almost every day. And it might just be because she doesn’t like that other house, but I can’t help but think that she likes it here. That she feels comfortable with me.”

Sarah places down her pen and looks at him, fully paying attention to what he is saying. It only makes him feel like he’s saying the right thing.

“All I want is to make sure she’s taken care of. That she’s getting what she needs to survive through this change. I want to be there for her while she grieves her mom. Even though she tries to hide how bad it is. I want to make sure that she can go to the college she wants to. I want to make sure that she’s happy. And even if you tell me this isn’t possibly, that I’m not the right fit for her. I’m still going to be there for her, because I want to be her family. Whatever that means for us.”

All Sarah does is smile and close the file in front of her. “I think that answered the rest of the questions I had for you. You did very well.”

“Thank you,” he sighs in relief. “When will I figure out your decision.”

“Well, I have one last interview to do with Julie, but soon. We’re moving quicker than normal as the state of that house she’s currently placed in is not meeting my standard. They won’t be fostering for us anymore after this,” she adds as if she isn’t supposed to tell him. “You should be hearing from me within the next week or so.”

Only a few more days until he figures out if this was all for nothing.

“Thank you, for even considering this,” he says while walking her out.

“It is always a priority for me to look at family members, especially those who care as much as you do.” She holds out her hand and he shakes it. “It was a pleasure meeting with you again, Steve.”

With that, she walks out the door and the inspection ends. Leaving him with what feels like misplaced hope starting to flutter in his chest. He might have actually pulled this off. Just might.

Tag list(let me know if you want to be added or removed): @homoerotictangerine, @mugloversonly, @thesuninyaface, @imyelenasexual, @anaibis, @ilovecupcakesandtea, @brainsteddielyrotted, @jackiemonroe5512, @eddie-munsons-missing-nipple, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @cinnamon-mushroomabomination, @lolawonsstuff, @writingandmushroomdragons, @stevesbipanic, @sierra-violet, @steddie-as-they-go, @dauntlessdiva, @mousedetective, @the-daydreamer-in-the-corner, @zombiethingy, @connected-dots-st-reblogger, @that-agender-from-pluto, @allyricas, @cheddartreets, @devondespresso, @crypticcorvidinacottage, @queenie-ofthe-void @chronicpainstevetruther, @cheddartreets, @theupsidedownrealestateagent, @acidbubblegummie, @sirsnacksalot, @l0st-strawberry, @helpimstuckposting, @strawberry-starss, @freddykicksasses, @italianwhore1, @i-threw-my-name-out-the-window, @rageagainsttheapathy, @nuggies4life, @ape31, @whimsicalwitchm, @chrissycunninghamfanblog, @michellegilligan, @hippielittlemetalhead, @bridget-malfoy-stilinski-hale, @jaytriesstuff, @confused-stripes, @faeb1tch42069, @marklee-blackmore, @hel-spawn, @genderless-spoon, @mamafaithful, @estrellami-1, @starryeyedpoet17 @i-amthepizzaman, @lilpomelito @melonmochi

[lullaebies]

Helaegon prompt (if you'd like)

Helaena goes for a night's out with a fellow bug enthusiast (can be one of her maids or ladies in waiting or some loyal kingsguard). She doesn't tell aegon.

The babies are with either aegon (who didn't know of helaena's outing) or with alicent and criston. General shenanigans ensue and aegon thinks someone had kidnapped her, but it was just she was too excited to see this particularly rare species of bug.

a very necessary slice of life after the last one!! for sure ❤️

-

"Where is she?" he asks Ser Erryk, when the sun is starting to set. Mother has surprised him with the children; the twins stayed with her for a while Helaena and her maids were preoccupied, but now the Queen had to tend to her own business. Sprung up on him by surprise, Aegon considered calling the maids, but Jaehaerys refused to let go of him, and Jaehaera soon followed with the plea. Now, after being decorated with several different jewels belonging to his wife by his daughter, and having to wrestle his son with his hands for well over an hour, he is coming to his wit's end. "Still away, my Prince," Ser Erryk answers dully, as it was the third time the question came up. "The sun is setting," Aegon says, as if outraged. "Has not stopped the best of us from being out, my Prince," he answers back with a sigh. Aegon frowns at him.

"Don't you sass me, you cu-" he thinks his words twice, looking back at his children. Aegon lowers his voice. "She never stays out late. What if something happened to her, Kingsguard? It'll be on your white cloak." He says this, and Ser Erryk stops to think, but so does he. He may have intended to bite back at him, but now pondering on his words, they may hold water. Helaena is never away for so long. Has she left for the city? He wouldn't peg her to be the type to go to taverns; she never wanted to join him. And where would she go, as it is? If she wished to visit the shops, she'd go with a carriage.

Has she been kidnapped? He starts to panic and looks back to his son. "Jaehaerys, where did your mother say she will return?" His boy blinks. "...In a few hours..." he says. And for a moment, he calms slightly. But then his daughter speaks. "In the morning, in breakfast" she completes. He looks back to Ser Erryk, and both of their faces have fallen and grown white. "I'll go search the Keep," he says, and Aegon nods. But his twins now also look worried. "Where's mother?" Jaehaera asks. "She's supposed to read us our bedtime story," Jaehaerys says. Aegon bites his lips. He doesn't know. Fuck, he doesn't know. Where is she? He himself never imagined her to stray away too far. If something happened... He gulps. Shit. "Perhaps she's hiding from us," he improvises to the best of his ability. "Should we go search for her?" he asks. He can't stay here like this. He would not be able to sit down calmly for his daughter to braid his hair; even if with them, he needs to see to this now. The twins both rise from where they are sitting playing, nodding away. They grab him by both his hands, as they always do Helaena, and off they go. They wander throughout the Keep, between staircases and differing rooms; Tyland Lannister snorted upon seeing him with the women's jewelry, and more than a few maids cooed and giggled at the sight of him pulled to different directions by the twins, but only brushed past them. Finally, they reach the gardens, and he looks for her amongst the hedges and the trees, but there was no need for such; when he finds her, she is on the main path, with her party of maids and some jar alit in her hands. "Mother!" Jaehaerys and Jaehaera yell together, leaving his hands and rushing to her. He has half the mind to yell at her; what was she frolicking in the gardens so long for?! "What were you doing? I thought you disappeared," he says aloud. Helaena blinks at him in confusion, shaking her head. "We've caught a few fireflies," she says, lifting the jar in front of her. "Aren't they pretty?" she asks their children, as she shows them the jar and what it contains. Pretty, his ass. He nearly had gotten a heart attack for pretty? "Father was scared," Jaehaera says abruptly, and Aegon flushes as Helaena releases a wonderous 'oh'. No, he was only unsure— "I wasn't, though," Jaehaerys says. You brat, at least stick with your father. "Well, we did take long," Helaena approaches closer, and shows him the jar. "But this is a rare type of fireflies; they only come by before the summers' are at their worst. And when you release them all together, they have a lovely glow." She says, and releases the butterflies in her jar right beside him. He shrieks and falls back as they fly right by his face. "What the hell!" he yells out as she laughs. "Now here is your father when he's scared," she says. "But there's no reason to, truly." And Helaena points up to the sky, as fireflies of different colors fly and glow above them. The children come around them and try to reach for them, and Aegon wonders why to catch them at all if you'll release them right after. Helaena only speaks once more. "I always wanted to show you." He quiets as they watch, their children at their feet, marveling at the colors of such fragile bugs. He supposes they are rather pretty to look at, reaching the sky as they do.

[elviola]

STEPPING STONE.

Lo'ak te Suli Tsyeyk'itan x Reader

PLOT: You are the shadow of the Sully Family's outcast, the one that knows him inside out. But when someone fresh faces his way, you are nothing more than another hindrance.

NOTE: honestly i can not for the love of my life do a 10k fic without breaking it into parts so here's to part 1 AND I SWEAR I WILL B ACTIVE AGAIN!!! i just got busy from sw so pls take this as my apology.. not proofread

WARNINGS: none

SHE/HER reader!

THE FLORA HATES YOU, when you sprint away from someone through the forest. You always trip and fall because of the different species sprouting their heads in the corners of the trees. You never became fond of them. That when someone gives you a wrap of them as a gift, you squish them under rocks to put in your make shift journal. Though, you don't fail to give up. Standing again, you brush the twigs and dirt that stuck to your reddish knees, and run. You run swiftly as the wind dances along your braids and falling leaves kissing your cheekbones. Your stamina isn't enough when you hunch over, back heaving in sweat as you manage to hide behind a log. Sitting down to pray that a certain Na'vi boy doesn't catch you. You look above to see the spaces that the trees won't occupy and see the blue sky illuminating Pandora. You wonder if the universe is as big as you imagine it, wanting to see it more. Pulling out your journal from your satchel, you write down what you've seen and done. A life log to look back to when your eclipse comes around. Too focused on your annotations, you fail to notice the creeping form beside the shrubs parallel to you.

Doodling down the last tree you've noticed on your way here, you were about to grab your satchel to use your pigments when a voice erupted suddenly out of nowhere.

"So, this is where you stay all day. What's so exciting about this?" You don't need to look around to know who it was, an all familar voice. You already sense a teasing smile forming on his face.

"Lo'ak, what do you need?" You close your journal, planning to finish it instead tomorrow. As you stand up, you get surprised again to see him already standing close infront of you. "I need you." He responds, handing back your satchel. You reach out to get it back, his hand lingering a little longer than expected. You're the first to pull back, rosy cheeks appearing on your face.

"In fact, Spider, unfortunately, needs you too. He cut his lip, he scratched his elbow, he–" You snap out of the trance when you hear the boy had gotten hurt. "Lead the way, Lo'ak."

You arrive to see Spider leaning back to the log of a tree and realizing Lo'ak didn't explain dramatically when you see all his wounds angry. "Spider, what happened?" You ask as you rummage around your satchel to find your herbal medicine. "It was half my fault, really. We were watching a sleeping Thanator when Lo'ak stepped on a branch and it heard us. Obviously" He says as he sticks out a tongue to Lo'ak. He rolls his eyes in response. You crouch down to clean Spider's cut. "You both could have been dead. Dead by the Thanator and dead by Jake. I bet he would even scold you with your cold body on the ground." Spider hisses at the sting when you applied the wrap for his elbow. You demand that Lo'ak help you carry Spider on the way home. "What did you need from me?" You ask him, glancing to the left behind Spider's head before you look back at front. "Just needed to see you, that's all. Told you, you spent too much in that paradise of yours." He replies, avoiding to bump into a stone as big as a direhorse. Your stomach rumbles out butterflies. You nod in agreement as you swore to spend time with them even more.

It was inevitable to be not scolded by Jake, for the two at least. "What were you even thinking at that moment? A sleeping Thanator, really? You couldl've gotten seriously hurt!" Both boys settled in their hut, shadows of them looming over the fabric from the campfire where you were sitting at outside. "____, did you know where they were?" Kiri asks, braiding Tuk's hair with colorful beads. Shaking your head no, you cross your leg over the other one. As she finishes her sister's hair, she looks over to you. Reading your face, she grins teasingly as her older brother did earlier. "You have a certain someone clouding your head recently, huh?" And as if she could read minds, your eyebrows pinch in false curiosity. "Oh, and who would that might be?" Tuk overhears the conversation as she stacks the rocks she collected earlier, "Lo'ak!!!!" You cover her mouth in attempts to hide your little silly crush. Tail thumping anxiously in hopes that he wouldn't hear. "Tuk! Secrets are kept in secret!" You scold her as she giggles mockingly like when you see Lo'ak train. Neteyam walks up, scanning everyone around. His ears perk up when he doesn't see his brother and father. "He's in trouble again, he got distracted by this girl." You nudge Kiri's shoulder to call her joke quits but Neteyam smiles knowingly, he knows everything when Lo'ak is involved. Neytiri comes along with Lo'ak, his ears flattened at his head. You know for sure he got a handful. When he sat down far from you, your heart ached for him. You wanted to comfort him, that it was okay to make mistakes, and it wasn't that big of a deal. But Jake arrives and sits down beside him. You lose chances of talking to him.

The stars overlapped across the dark sea above while they were twinkling brightly, you were laying on your back on the cold grass. Arms outstreched to your head, you waited for Lo'ak to come. It was your promised plan, whenever something harsh happens to the both of you. You would bask in the silence underneath the stars and bring peace at the thought of someone close beside you. Tail swishing in anticipation at the sound of his footsteps, you were hopeful to meet him again. There were no times that Lo'ak skipped. When you first met, down by the river you say a boy sitting by the stones. He couldn't reach the particular one resting on top of the taller ones, you couldn't just laugh at him, and so you gave him a little height. Face morphing in suspicion, he stared at you for a good minute until he stepped on the hand offered. Not a word said lingering in the tense air. As he took what he wanted, you were taken aback by his glare and you wished to see it more.

When you were around the age of being able to do things without the guidance of your parents, you saw him by a big tree. He was throwing rocks to get the fruits down. You realized how he had grown, taller than you he glanced down to see your eager face. "Do you need help?" You asked, he rolled his eyes as a smile appeared on his face. "When did I never?" You'll admit then he looked handsome that time, that was the trigger for your admiration. You were the aid to his wounds, his comrade in a battle, and his stepping stone in life.

Minutes turn into hours as Lo'ak kept you waiting alone in the forest. The whistling wind has settled down along with long gone bright sky. Even the stars were starting to leave. Fidgeting your fingers, your tail couldn't stop to thump on the ground. Your ears flatten in realization that the possibility of the both of you coming together beneath the bioluminescence trees and leaves were forgetten, that the past instances were a burden to attend to. That it was rude to leave an invitation neglected. As you begin to stand up, you hear a rustle of frantic footsteps nearing your way. You jump in a stance, readily to defend yourself when your eyes land on his. And your heart swells at the tears sought out to break within his amber orbs, "_____. 'M so sorry. I am–" He hiccups in the process of his emotions flowing through the night, through you. You rarely see Lo'ak unfold his walls to you, he always makes sure that his composture is firm. That whenever push comes to shove, he won't fall easily. But that doesn't mean moments like these don't exist, you hurriedly pulled him close. As if he would disappear into thin air and never come back, you embrace him with open arms. "Lo'ak. It's alright. Be calm, be at peace." You comfort him, smoothing his back with your palm as a sign that you have acknowledged his pain and you're out to lessen it. "Jake was– it was just too much." He reasons, reciprocating the gesture you offered. His head digging into your shoulder and hiding his face on your neck. You speak nothing more. That his hands finding yours as he pulled back was a sign that your prescence was more than enough. For the first time in a while, he gazed at your eyes as his curved along his familar pearly smile. You couldn't stop yours reach your ears as well. "____. Thank you, thank you so much. You don't know how grateful I am for you being with me." Your cheeks warm at the words, "Always, Lo'ak. I'll be here always."

The village isn't clueless to the relationship you and Lo'ak have. The words exchanged and the gnawing affection that yearns to shatter the crisp facade you both build were evident as the moon in the sky. The only thing that was annoying was both your ignorant nature to one another. That when Lo'ak stays longer with you than usual, you'd think it was a pity thought, and he was only being nice. While when you were helping him arrange the bows they were about to use for their hunt, he'd thought it was a pity thought. A puzzle piece won't connect with another one that doesn't compliment its provided shapes, you're the missing piece to Lo'ak's abstract puzzle. And the village–even Kiri, hopes you both realize it.

Tranquility doesn't last long when the Sky People return to steal the treasure that isn't rightfully theirs. You learn it when Lo'ak rushes to his brother's side when you wake up from your hut, frustrated by the noise. He had shaken you awake to tell you about what had happened. That your–his forest was crying in agony from the pain that the Demons brought once again. Your eyes shot open, your ears alert from the shouts of help from the People. You tell Lo'ak and his family to be okay, "When did I never?" He teasingly adds and you can't help to giggle in an innapropriate situation. As you watch him mount his ikran, you analyze Jake's words from afar. And you watch them rhythmically vanish to the clouds.

Your hush pleas filled the empty homes of the People, in wishes Eywa would hear,

"Please, be safe. Please, come home."

The families of the Warriors sits beside eachother, assuring one another that their sons and daughters that chose to fight were safe. You were praying to Eywa, the only resort you could do. You weren't brave like those who left, your skills only fit for hunting dinners for your family. Yet you promised that when they had come back, you were willing to train with your blood, sweat, and tears. You were about to walk to another family to tell them that everything would be alright when you hear someone come from behind the tree, his blue skin painted with dirty mud as his pupils were blown wide from the adrenaline of running. "They're back! They have come back!" You swore your heart was leaping out of your chest to run faster than yourself to see him. Excusing people to the side when they were on your way, you almost trip on your own tail swishing in excitement. It had been hours since the new battle had occurred and you were anxiously waiting for their return with your hands turn fists, the crimson liquid almost broke out free. You catch sight of Jake first, back hunched with his hands occupying his head. He sees your feet, obviously tempted to ask where his youngest son is. He points to the woven curtain ahead, you rush in.

Your knees weaken at the sight of Neteyam's skin fresh with angry wounds. Back layed down on the mat, you apologize for the hurt he was feeling. He gives you a small but compassionate smile. You spin to see Kiri bandaging a shoulder you've layed your head on a thousand times. You walk to see Lo'ak hissing at the sting from the tightness it brings. "Dear Eywa, what and how did this happen?" The questions that you had formulated a while ago disappeared when you see his whitey smile comforting you. "____. I am fine, this is nothing." He didn't understand why it offended you greatly, "Nothing? This is not nothing! You are bleeding everywhere!" You disagree, inspecting with sly eyes as you skim over his biceps, and shoulders."Look, your cuts from earlier are open again. "Is being careful hard to understand, who did these stiches?" Kiri rolls her eyes, "So you say I am a bad healer?" You freeze, shaking your head no. Lo'ak manages to let out a chuckle to your silly ramblings.

As Kiri and Neteyam retrieve to the campfire to seek solace with their mother. Lo'ak finds his elsewhere, your hands finding his own again. "Seriously, you could have been grieveously wounded. Even more, I could have–" He doesn't let you finish the sentence, "I wouldn't. Not when I know you're waiting for me." Your eyebrows rest from their pinched expression as your stomach begs to do backflips. He might have caught up by your reaction as he pulls your hand closer, placing it by his cheek. Your body heats up when he nuzzles in your palm, "I'm not lying. How can I leave you alone?" You giggle at his antics, thumb rubbing circles on his cheek as a reply. He hums in satisfaction with you by his side.

Weeks after the incident, everything starts to return to normal. Except for the fact that you were now training beside Lo'ak and his brother, promising yourself an oath that you would look aftet him as he does to you. So here you stand in an open space at the forest, bow drawn to stick sharp at the distanced bark of a tree. Lo'ak's hands position your shoulders to a better posture, criticizing your way of hunting with your stance. You scoff in disagreement, pointing back out the pros you achieve with said technique. He rolls his eyes, "If you don't do it like this," his calloused hands burns on your flush shoulders again, straightening it back, "You won't shoot it right." Eyes focusing on the target, you try to tame your tail. He tucks your hair behind your ear, failing you to focus. "The only thing you're good at is being cute." Lo'ak says as he laughs in amusement, you let go of the hold you had on the string of the bow. Arrow landing on the dot in the middle, you glance to his direction. Chin high and proudly smirking, "Well, who knew? You are a good teacher." As he was about to lock you in his arms, you ran away from his frisky chase.

"Don't run away too far! I might not be able to catch you!" Lo'ak shouts, complaining when he gets his foot stuck in the roots of a tree. You reply, "Then go faster! Stronger!" He shakes his head in amusement, loving the way you spend your time with his. He wishes this would happen occasionally, to cease the banging migraine he would always have whenever he goes back to his family. Goes to his Father, meeting those agitating eyes that he was certain it could crush his tiny soul. That his soul was only trying to fuel the remaining strength he had and he was grateful you were trying to fire it back up. Yet his dad was trying to take it away, abolish his rights to attain what he wanted. And not what they wanted.

Until his very own home was being taken away from him.

The Sullys are leaving the forest, leaving the Omatikaya people. It's an impulsive decision when you sneak up with the kids to their parent's hut, crouching through the fabric to hear voices clashing with one another. You knew they were going to do it. You watch Lo'ak's face turn dissatisfied, anguished, and ruined. Kicking rocks with his feet after Tuk explained what she heard. You stand up near him, hand on his shoulder as you pull him close. “It'll be alright, something worth seeing for me?” His eyes meet yours, disappointment etched on his brows. “Nothing is worth seeing without you there with me.” You laugh, “Stop fooling around, skxwang. This is something serious.” Lo'ak removes your hand from his shoulder and holds it in his, intertwining fingers with yours. “I'm not laughing, am I? I want you to join us.” Your eyes stared in fright, he wants you to come. The forest is everything to you, your home of your parents, and the home where your heart began to beat.

And you convince yourself it was–is his too. Would you give up the likelihood of not seeing your parents for the chance that both, you and Lo'ak's future would unfold? His hold is strong on you, his chest close to yours, and you swear you could hear his heart beat.

You seek out your parents in attempts to hold close your staggering heart, excusing yourself from Lo'ak. You run to your home, feet prickling heat as you step on variety of rocks. Ducking below to hanging leaves and branches, you finally spot the familar pathway of shrubs that you tripped over multiple times. Flowers started to grow at the side and you still believed it was from the love of your family that helped them live. "____! Oel ngati kameia! What a surprise!" Your father shouted, approaching you with shoulders back and head high. Even as you grew old, he had not yet lose his charming ego that led your mother to adore him. "Hello, 'pa! I have something to tell you, where is 'ma?" You ask, replying with the greeting gesture, you proceed to hug your dad. Missing the warmth you had grown accustomed to, it wasn't the same to anyone. "She is inside, coincidently making food. Let us feast on my hunt!" And even though you are capable to bring them food everyday, your father still decides to test his bones every challenge he goes through.

You spot your mother sat down, rearranging the food your father had brought home. "Yawne! ____ has come back." Originally, you rarely visit home. Only ever setting foot inside whenever you had a good hunt to give them, as you grew closer to Lo'ak. You grew closer to his family as well, always hanging out by their hut, and falling asleep inside too often. They've treated you as their blood so it's no surprise when your mother suddenly hugs you tight as a thanator. "Oh, _____. If I knew you were coming, I could have your mat fixed up." She pulls back, smiling wide with a waterfall begging to burst in her eyes. Your heart burns at the words, feeling guilty to leave when they see you ever so rarely. "Mama. 'Pa. I have something to say– why don't you guys sit?" You ask anxiously. The both of them look at eachother, curiousity etched on their faces. You prepare to speak as you notice their hands finding eachother under the table and you can't help but to break the dam. Sobbing you told them, "I want to leave the forest. The peo–" hiccuping, their eyes go wide. "What do you mean, ___? Where– you will go where?" Your mother asks, lip trembling from disappointment. "What?! Why? Why will you leave? Have we not given you the good life Eywa has sought out for you?" Your father stands, frustration deep into his eyebrows. You stand firm, wiping the fallen tears from your cheek. "I will follow Lo'ak. I will follow them to Awa'atlu. He is my—" Your father strides forward, pointing an accusing finger to your face, "Your mate? No. I have not heard any of this proclammation. Why follow when he does not reciprocate your heart?" –"Yawne. That is enough." Your father looks to you with hurt, he glances to your mother, and walks out. You want the ground to devour you whole, your mother stares at you as she grins. "Go. Set your heart free, my syulang."

You cry once more.

You arrive at Awa'atlu, after countless tiring nights on your ikran. You finally can feel your legs find life again, the grainy sand ticking beneath. Unique looking Na'vi circle around you, forming a big crowd. Inspecting your tails and skin. You glance over to Lo'ak wanting to ask if he ever knew about the People here. But you notice his eyebrows are up and eyes wide, you follow his sight, and see a girl walking up to shore. She's beautiful, you admit. As mystique as the ocean. Neytiri rolls her eyes and Neteyam nudges his shoulder. You silently wish to go back, chest tightening out of jealousness.

Jake is the first one to speak. Asking for uturu and the Metkayina gasp in surprise. Toruk Makto hiding from the humans isn't a pleasing sight to see, their tsahik making it obvious that they had 'demon' blood within. Your own blood boiling when they grab Lo'ak's hand for all to see. His head turning 'no' to you when he noticed your ears twitching. Ronal hisses when Neytiri comes close and tension stars to rise.

Lo'ak's tail swirling around your leg catches your attention. Supposedly wanting to make you calm down, your heart did the opposite, almost leaping out of your chest.

Ao'nung and Tsireya were the ones assigned to teach you, learning Tsireya was the girl that made Lo'ak turn stone whenever she went near. She was making you turn greedy, making the most out of every intetaction made with Lo'ak instead. "If you want to live here, you have to ride." Ao'nung states, eyeing each one of you with pride swelling in his chest. Lo'ak goes first, forming tsahelyu with the ilu. Tsireya warns him to start slow but in his nature, he is stubborn. So he doesn't.

After hours of practicing the ways of the water. You head home to the marui you share with the Sullys. Walking back, you notice Lo'ak isn't following behind. "Go on, I'll check on Lo'ak." You tell Neteyam, he nods, grateful of your help.

As you stray far to the shore of the sea, you hear his voice but overlapping hers. You beg yourself to go, that this was their private moment. But your ears twitch at the sound of Lo'ak crying. Lo'ak doesn't easily cry–so why does he cry to her? Your feet tingle at anticipation, wanting to walk to him. Ask him what happened and who had him break out. Your head pounds heavily, dizzy from the newfound information. So instead you headback to the hut, head back to dreaming of what you could have been with him today, yesterday, and hopefully with the future.

[eternalglitch]

Seen This Story Before

Fandom: Dimension 20: Neverafter

Author's Note: Just one of several Gerard drabbles I needed to write.

Content Warnings: None other than a few Dimension 20 spoilers up to episode 10.

"Don't you fucking do it!" Pinocchio shouted, his high pitched voice going higher yet. He wasn't yet old enough to have voice cracks, assuming he could. Gerard himself had skipped that phase until he was around twenty-one, when his vocal cords were actually anatomically able to be lower than that of a child. "Red, I'm warning you–" "Pinocc, she's following the rules," the kid's familiar squeaked. "She rightfully can–" "I'm out!" Ylfa folded her cards with a smug smile, her fangs poking over her lip. "Three wins in a row, baby!" "God dammit. God dammit I should've known you had woken up and chosen violence are you kidding me." The two kids dissolved back into bickering, Ylfa patting Pinocchio on the back as the puppet swatted at her hand furiously, refusing the loss. Gerard couldn't help himself; he snorted, turning slightly away so no one spotted him laughing. It was somewhat for naught; Timothy must have somehow heard him, even though Gerard had always thought once someone's hair went white so too would their hearing go. Not with this old man. "It's good to see Ylfa bonding with another kid," Timothy said conspiratorially, sitting down next to Gerard. The frog blinked. "Oh. Oh!" He nodded. "Er, yes, I'm sure. Kids their age need friends." He gave Timothy a half-hearted grin. "Fred got me through a lot." Mother Goose eyed him for a moment. "…your friend the frog." "Yes. Well, the first one– yes. And the second. And third." Timothy stared at him and raised an eyebrow, and Gerard fiddled with the edge of his tattered shirt, suddenly self conscious. "They didn't say much– but well– you know how it is, being young! Making stuff up and being a little crazy." Gerard chuckled. "I was a bit immature." "You're still quite young," Timothy said, patting Gerard's back. "You have a lot of living ahead of you." "–that is IT, Cricket can you– can you do something about her, some kinda spell or–" Pinocchio's raised voice cut into the conversation, and the two men watched in bemusement as a game of chase seemed to unravel before them. Red tossed one braid over her shoulder, laughing, dodging like it was a dance, Pinocchio diving right past her and face planting into the dirt, his wooden limbs atwist. A child punished for seemingly misbehaving, missing out on puberty and sleeping in a warm bed or held in a parent's embrace. A fearless little girl that seemed to already have too many worries on her shoulders but smiled nevertheless. Gerard had seen that story before. He hoped that he could help this one end differently, even if the relationship between the two kids was inherently a different one. This one, at least, would end happy. Gerard shook his head. "So do you, Timothy. And hopefully it won't be much to write home about, once this is all over." He got to his feet, brushing himself off as best as he was able. "Shall we go help Rosamund with the cooking? I can't imagine Pib is going to actually show up in time to help, he said he would go catch fish two hours ago." "A prince offering to help cook! That's a first." Timothy grunted as he also stood up. "And I wouldn't complain about that too much; I daresay I'll have written an entire book by the time we are done here!"

[captmickey]

I knew you sent something, @dominustempori and it took me a minute to find it, but hey! I found it! And here we go!

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Lucas wandered around the house, looking for something to do… anything, really. He would have joined his father on the ship, but according to him and uncle Winslow, it would be best if Lucas stayed put for now. 

(“Not because I don’t want you with me, kiddo, but because the ship has a lot of broken pieces and I don’t want you to get hurt.” Guybrush explained, kneeling down to be at eye level with him.

“But I can help!” Lucas pouted. “I can help, really!” Guybrush just let out a laugh and ruffled his hair a little. “I know, and you can any other time… just not with this one. I promise to make it up to you later, alright? I won’t be gone for long.”)

He huffed. He could have helped, he knew he could have. He just… didn’t know how, especially with how everything was so tall. But he’s just like his dad, Lucas Threepwood could solve that problem, no doubt.

Instead, he continued to pout and went upstairs, planning on going to his room and think of something to do when he heard humming from his parents’ room.

Curiosity got the best of him as Lucas peeked his head inside, seeing the neatly made bed in the room with the two night stands: one neatly organized with a book or two stacked and the other an absolute mess filled with too many books and parchments. He continued looking around when he spotted his mom sitting in front of a mirror fixing up her hair.

Perking up with finally someone in the room (let alone house), Lucas bee-line to his mother’s side and stood on his toes to catch a glimpse of the table filled with different smelling bottles and ribbons.

A chuckle was heard and a hand on his head.

“Hello to you too.” Elaine greeted him. 

“Hello!” Lucas beamed, looking between his mom and the table. 

“What are you up to?” She asked, going back to brushing her hair.

“Nothing. I’m bored.” He moved his hands to her lap, plopping a chin on her thigh. “Dad made me bored.”

“Did he now?” Elaine chuckled. “That’s not very nice of him.”

“It’s not. It’s…um…” he contemplated, trying to think of the rude his mom would say before perking up, “rude! It’s very rude.” 

“I would imagine so.”

Lucas continued watching her brush her hair, noticing how she was parting her hair into three strands and began criss-crossing it over one another. His eyes widened as he stared. 

Elaine, noting the expression, smirked. “Something the matter, Lucas?”

“What are you doing?” He asked, point-blank.

“Hm? Oh, I’m braiding my hair.”

“Why?”

She shrugged. “I just feel like it, nice to have it out of the way before we run some–”

“I want that!”

Elaine stopped and looked at Lucas who appeared to have stars in his eyes as he stood up straighter, a small hop in place was noticeable as well. 

“You want a braid?” She asked, just out of clarification considering his hair was not nearly long enough for there to be a braid but she was not about to spoil the small child’s mood with that tidbit.

Lucas, however, as an answer, hopped more in place.

“Alright, let’s make you a braid.” Elaine moved from her seat and picked up her son to sit in it in her place. She of course noticed as she was reaching for the brush, kicking his feet, his telltale sign of excitement. “Hold still for a moment, alright?”

“Okay!” He smiled, looking as much as he could at his reflection, or at least, half his head. 

Slowing his feet kicking to as much of a minimum as he could, Lucas felt his mother’s hands on his head followed by the gentle stroke of the hair brush. Slowly, he closed his eyes, feeling safe and comforted as she went to work grabbing some strands of his hair. He knew he did not have hair nearly as long as his parents, but whenever he saw them putting their hair up, he wanted to join in.

“Mommy?”

“Yes, dear?”

“Do you braid dad’s hair?” Lucas asked, opening his eyes and looking at his mother’s reflection.

“Sometimes.” Elaine answered. “Although your father likes to put it in a ponytail and call it a day.”

“Oh. Does he braid your hair?” He then asked.

She smiled. “Yes.”

“Does he do a good job? You do a good job with your hair.” Lucas smiled when he warranted a laugh out of her.

“He tries, darling. And that’s what matters.” Elaine decided to do two more braids, feeling the child would want to show off his new do. 

“I want long hair.” He decided. “Like you and dad.”

“Yeah? And what will you do with all that hair?” She asked, trying to not discourage him.

“Hmm…” Lucas kicked his feet in thought. “I’d… I’d braid it. Have dad’s ponytail. Oh! Maybe beads?”

“Beads?” Elaine sounded surprised.

“Mm-hmm!”

“Well, that sounds rather exciting. And with that…” she tied the ribbon to hold the last of the small braids in his hair, “we’re done.”

Lifting Lucas up so he could see himself better in the mirror. It was three very small braids that were on one side of his head, each a different color ribbon. Lucas looked at himself closer, leaning in as much as he could and shaking his head, watching the braids bounce a little and smiled that famous Threepwood grin as he turned to look at her.

“I love it!” He grinned, his feet kicking a little. “Thank you!”

“You look absolutely wonderful.” Elaine smiled in return, giving him a small kiss on the cheek which got a belly giggle from Lucas. “Want to show your father your new look?”

“Yeah!”