#do you ever just write nearly 3000 words?? no? just me?

[sobeautifullyobsessed]

Happy Valentine's, and you asked me a question, I will answer it, so please do not ignore.

"Unless you mean to say that the ship itself should be his beloved?" You are 3000% correct. As for what drove me to lash out at you before, just ask yeaka.

I'm still not entirely sure what you're aiming to accomplish, hon - but if it's to accuse me of plagiarism, you are seriously barking up the wrong tree. Likewise, if you're angry that I dared to write Khan with an Original Character rather than someone from canon, I truly don't give a fig.

I work in a field where I have to deal with strangers being dishonest with me nearly every day. So much so, that I know a lie within a few moments of our conversation starting. When I share with other folks the myriad ways that Liars have devised to rip off a retailer in the course of returning something, they (as I used to be) are shocked to learn the many ingenious means of deception. My reply is always, 'Well, you wouldn't think of something like that because you're a honest person'. And likewise, it never occurred to me to look up the word 'yeaka' as I figured it was a typo, rather than a basis for an accusation.

However, one of my dear tumblr friends thought to look it up and discovered it's an AO3 penname of someone who writes Khan fic, shipping him with various canon characters. For the record, I don't recall ever reading anything of theirs - nor have I visited their works now out of curiosity. I didn't think to look for myself as some means of defense because I am simply NOT A PLAGIARIST. Every fic I've published is based on my own imagination, including those that resulted from RP with partners who granted me permission to write them.

If on the other hand, you simply can't tolerate shipping Khan (or any canon character) with someone non-canon, I'd advise you to keep to your own lane and block tags for fics that may raise your ire. If you're curious, though, you might discover there is a wealth of fics featuring OCs, as well as stories featuring crossover characters from completely unrelated fandoms. Make a quick search of 'Khanlolly' alone, and you'll find many, many stories featuring romance between Khan and Molly Hooper from BBC Sherlock, basically because he wears Benedict's face. Khanlolly is an offspring of the Sherlolly fandom.

In short, fan fiction Authors are free to play with whatever characters they want in whatever manner they choose. As of today, there are no fic police to restrict what can and cannot be written. If you don't like, don't read. That will ensure peace of mind for everyone involved.

[milslol]

First Chapter of a book/project I'm writing :)

fair warning this is 3000+ words so it's kinda long but here's some bgm while you read :)

Chapter One: The Cabin in the Woods

I never really hated any of my family. To be honest, I never would have even left them if my parents were still alive. After the crash that took away my parents, I was moved into my grandparents’ house, and that’s where all the issue arose. I still adore my twin sister, and we worked on leaving our grandparents together. We always did everything together and she was in it for the long haul, supporting me through this.

I was fourteen when my parents died. Two years ago at this point. I wish there was some way I could have left my siblings better, ‘cause leaving them was the hardest part. I’ll never let go of the worries I have about Thistle, my youngest brother, who was sent to live with my aunts. I hope they’re taking their best care of him. He deserves it. My older sister,  Scarlett, is doing fine, though. She goes to college at UMass and visits me when she can. We’ve gotten way closer than we ever were before our parents died. It’s nice having someone to talk to and relate to that isn’t across the country. Scar is studying to be a therapist and has really helped me get my mental health back up from the trenches it was in before.

 And then there’s Jett. My identical twin sister and my favorite person on this earth. She didn’t have it nearly as bad with my grandparents as I did. Her fortune allowed her to move in a neighborhood nearby, just outside our family home in Orange, but god I miss her so much. She wanted –needed– to stay nearby. Finish highschool and get into a good school to help support me, and stay near Violett, our best friend. And although both of them insist they’re still just friends, I know what’s truly going on between them. I know how Violett flirts. I’ve seen it firsthand. 

Violett, I should mention, has known me for what seems like my whole life. We met in kindergarten, before I was truly me, and instantly clicked. I’ll never be able to repay her for how much she helped me, but I’m glad she’s stayed with me. We even started a band together. She’s like another member of my family. Certainly more than what my grandparents were. Her undying support is more than I could ever ask for in a friend.

Leaving everyone was like dropping a friend you’ve known all your life. It wasn’t easy, and I knew it never would be, but it had to happen. God, I really do wish I could’ve stayed near my grandparents like Jett did. I could’ve lived with Violett and stayed close to everyone, but the thought of being near that part of my family stung all the more than the loss of face-to-face time with friends. Jett and I spent months in court and signing paperwork, but it was all worth it. Miraculously, some of my extended family was able to assist in the process, both financially and as testimonials, or even legal knowledge in some cases. Emancipation was a big thing and a lot of responsibility on me all at once, but I persevered. We started the process at only fourteen: the youngest age in the country you can do this sort of thing. I wasn’t quite ready to get into the process immediately, due to my unpreparedness. I didn’t think I’d ever have to go through something like this. That damned crash ruined more than just my parents’ lives. I started researching how to escape as much as I could as soon as I heard the news. 

I knew relationships with Nana and Papi would never work out with me. The old ideas they insist are in the bible are cemented into their brains. Ideas against my and many others’ identities. I wasn’t going to change their minds, no matter how hard I tried. No matter how close the people they hated so passionately were to them. It’s crazy how people can be so angered by just a few colors. So ignorant to how the people closeted away from them truly felt. So I hid from them when I had to stay there. Jett and Vi were thankfully  huge supporters, but it was still a terrible experience. They were my escape from the reality I was facing. 

After months of contemplation, I finally set eyes on where I was going to move. Rural Vermont. I had worked at my parents’ place before they died, so jobs there weren't too hard to find. Before I left, I’d already secured a job at a pub in Celadon, the town I had decided on.

Once everything was all settled, I found a small place in that small town. It was a tight fit, but it did the trick. A two-bed, two-and-a-half-bath tiny little cabin down a long driveway in the woods. The cabin looked like it could burn down at any minute, but rent was damn cheap and the place certainly had some self-established character. It was worth it. Celadon was in the middle of nowhere and my house expressed that even more. The long, winding road and flickering orange street lamps that I’m ninety percent sure are still lit by lamplighters in the dark hours of the night made the whole town seem like the set of a horror movie. The powerlines fell so often that they were barely standing afoot any more and the trees, barren ever so much from the winter chill, solidified the spookiness of the town. But it was home. That’s all that truly mattered. Admittedly,  the house was barely standing and the power rarely worked, but  it was the perfect escape from the world. Even when laboring over the woodstove was the only way to reliably keep it warm. It was just what I wanted, even if I could never admit it to myself at the time. It was what I needed. No grandparents complaining about the state of the world. Just me. Miles and miles away from civilization. Or so I thought.

Two years had passed from when I started the process of emancipation until then, but it felt like a lifetime.  By this point, I was already sixteen. Violett was left behind, only visiting when she was able (which was twice by this point, but she’d been planning a third behind my back), and she brought Jett along when she could. Jett always knew when something was wrong, even when we were away. Twin telepathy is real, I guess. I don’t think I’d still be here if it weren’t for Jett. She kept me straight through thick and thin, and I owe my life to her. Literally. She’s saved me time and time again, in more ways than one. I genuinely don’t think I’d be the same person without her.

~~~

A couple weeks after I arrived, I finally succumbed to the boredom and started to explore the area around me trying to find some interesting things built by previous tenants. During one particular expedition, I caught the slightest whiff of smoke. I was out all day, so the woodstove wasn’t running and, as far as I knew, my house was at a dead end, so the origin of this scent was truly a mystery. I was over a mile into the woods at this point, so my best guess was that a small forest fire had started. I’d been keeping track of the areas I’d explored with some chalk I had picked up at the local market. I struck another tree with the crumbling chalk, this one a pale pink color, and heard a burst –almost like that of an explosion– followed by another whiff of smoke, this one a bit stronger than before. I ran toward what I could only assume was the origin of the sound, marking every couple of trees with the pale chalk, dwindling in size, keeping track of just how far into the woods I’d become. 

I eventually spotted a clearing, though I couldn't see a thing inside of it. As I inched closer, I took note of the surrounding area. Burned trees with dying embers softly glowed red where it appeared limbs had been cut off with some sort of hot blade. Well, that explained the scent. A hundred feet away, I’d caught a glimpse of what appeared to be an old cabin at the center of the clearing and I ventured closer, my mind wandering on the possibilities of what I just found. As I continued  marking the trees, I ventured further and further into the dense forest. The cabin came into focus, and I had never been more confused. There was no driveway. No street. Just a house in the middle of the woods that I could only imagine wasn’t marked on any maps. The trees were far too dense for satellite coverage, even in the winter, so my mind jumped at the thought of my discovery. I might’ve been the first person to discover this place. The list of questions that I had is yet to end. 

By this point, I’d pretty much reached the clearing. Taking care to stay hidden behind a bigger tree, I peered inside, at the cabin. Someone– no –something had walked out from behind the mysterious building. They looked inhuman. Their hair was a pale blue color, almost the same hue as the sky right now. Like the hair was mirroring the serenity of the clouded winter sky. This hair was straight and ended at the shoulders. Dark horns protruded from their forehead, a shape not dissimilar to those depicted on demons. Their ears were also something to marvel at. These ears looked almost elfish, but their height did not reflect this as they were standing at about eight feet. It was taller than anyone I’d ever seen. Their stature made them look like someone you’d expect to see in a children’s book, but there was one huge thing that stuck out: they wore nothing but a thin grey t-shirt and some ragged dark-colored pants, covered only by a worn panda onesie. The thing that stuck out the most, though, was the absence of shoes. This being was barefoot in the seventeen-degree weather, resisting the cold of the thin blanket of snow that had reached the surface. What had I found? 

I wandered to a different tree to try to get a better angle; to see if I was just imagining their height or maybe even this entire thing. I needed a new perspective on the situation. Apparently, this idea wasn’t great for masking my presence. The creature had caught a glimpse of me, as they turned their head in my direction and I scurried to cover behind a different tree. They did a double take but gave up almost immediately. They must have thought they'd been seeing things, or at least that’s what I had hoped. Maybe they just assumed I was an animal. A deer, perhaps. Maybe a moose. I think we have those around here.

I had adjusted myself to try to peer around the tree without risk of getting spotted again, and I had just managed to catch the being put their hand out and a little orange flame burst out from their palm with a noise of a popping sound. The same one I’d heard earlier

“Well, there’s the source of the scent and the trees.” I muttered too loudly for my comfort. I rushed behind a new tree, trying for a better angle to see them without getting caught, hoping not to make any noise from the leaves crunching under my boots as I ran. Miraculously, I didn’t end up getting caught in the glimpse of the mysterious humanoid creature. 

I’d made it as far as I had; what was the harm in running out and revealing myself? I wondered. No, I couldn't do that. That’d only be childish. I wanted to make a good impression, not embarrass myself first thing. I gave in and decided to head home so I could wait until I managed to think of a solid plan that made me seem mature.

~~~

A couple days had passed. I spent the time I wasn’t working thinking of a plan. A plan to talk to this new, mysterious being. I’m 5’7. Not the tallest grape in the bunch and this being towered over me and had fire powers. My best guess was that they’re a demon. What’s the other possibility? The horns, height, powers, even the ears, for fuck’s sake. It made sense. I had to make a good first impression so I wouldn’t get attacked. Or worse. I didn’t want to think about those possibilities.

The plan was simple. Or so I thought. 

After a few days of contemplation, my plans were set. I was going to walk to their house and just– show up, say hi, just get right to it. Hope they’re outside, and if not, I’d wait around. Wander the surrounding area until they were. I felt knocking on their door would just be plain weird. Too blunt for my taste.

And so I did. I set off in the same direction as last time, following my fading pink chalk. It’s useful for more than just getting back, I had found out. I decided to add an extra line of chalk to each of the trees I passed, this time in a bright baby blue hue. I was about three quarters of the way there when I heard a rustling sound not fifteen feet away from where I was standing. I had seen a moose just a minute before, but it didn’t make the same sounds as I had just heard. These sounds sounded like those of a smaller creature. Not tiny like a hare or a possum, but like… medium sized. Almost human-sized. I looked around, but saw nothing immediately. I knew there had to be something. Someone. And I had my bets on who it was. 

“Who goes there?” I yell out in the direction I’d last heard them in. “You can say hi; I promise I don’t bite,” I said, my voice cracking with nerves. More rustling followed this and the horns disappeared from the bush, followed by the snap of a branch. “I could see your horns. You can really use a better job at hiding next time, you know.” I called out. I wondered how they were able to fit in that bush, as it wasn’t super huge and definitely couldn’t fit someone as tall as the demon creature I’d seen just a few days before.

More leaves rustled. I turned my head and caught the smallest glimpse of the same dark red horns I’d previously seen. I assumed it was the demon creature. This simplified my plans.

“Hi. What… are you? Are you a human? I can’t be seen with you. I need to leave. Go away. My dad will send me back if he learns I was in contact with another human.” The being emerged, nervously backing away from me. They had the same face, the same horns, the same ears, even the same onesie as when I’d last seen them, but I couldn’t help but notice the fiery golden shade their hair had become. It was much longer too, braided in the back and around the horns. It was actually quite a pretty color, but I wondered how it changed so much. More notably, they were significantly shorter. They still towered over me, but now they were just over six feet. A height much less intimidating than the eight feet they were before.

“I’m a human, and best guess is that you aren’t. I’m not sure who your father is, and not sure if I’d want to know, but what I do know is that you seem more scared of me than I am of you. Honestly, I didn't think that was possible.” After I’d said that, I felt as if my words had come off meaner than they should have. They seemed almost passive-aggressive; maybe even insulting.

“Well. I guess you seem like a nice human,” A rush of relief was sent through my body. “I’m sure my parents will understand. This conversation is already long enough for them to be angry regardless. I’m Sap, by the way. Named for the yellow stuff from the trees, and as you probably had assumed, I’m a dæmon, but it seems like that hasn’t put you off too much. Do my horns make you uncomfortable? I can hide them if they do.” Their tone softened from a nervous squeak as they said this. It seemed they were slowly becoming more comfortable around me. Their hair softened, pulling itself out of the braids and turning a beautiful lavender color. The braids wrapped around their horns stayed in place, only changing to a pale pink hue, eerily similar to the chalk I had used to mark my way to their house just a few days before. I looked away before they could catch me staring. They stepped closer to me, moving to just a few feet away from me. Their shimmering eyes caught my glimpse and they appeared to be a vibrant lilac color. One of the most beautiful colors I’d ever seen.

After a few seconds of silence, I decided to finish the introductions: “I’m Indigoh Seren Trench, and no, the horns are fine, I promise. Nice to meet you. I live a few miles that way.” I pointed in the relative direction of my house. Using my middle name in introductions had somehow become standard. It’s one of the only things I still have from my parents, and now it’s just become standard when introducing myself. It’s my way of honoring them as much as I still can. “Honestly, I thought I lived as deep in this dense fucking forest as I possibly could. I didn’t expect to see anyone back here.”

“Well, Indigoh Seren, it seems you thought wrong. It’s fine; everyone else thinks that. Well, most of the time. There were two that managed to find me out here. Pretty low number for the amount of time I’ve been here. They’re all so recent, too. Maybe humanity is slowly starting to gain the intelligence it’s lacked all these years.” Sheesh. Harsh, but they’re right. Tell that to my grandmother. She’ll really get a kick out of that.

I didn’t say it out loud, but we hadn’t moved, and I was starting to get cold. I’ll never know how they don’t get cold, even with them being a dæmon and all. 

“Well, Sap, would you like to come back to my place? I can get you something to drink or eat, maybe start up the woodstove and heat up the place, though it seems like you don’t need that being out here in the snow barefoot and all.” I offered.

“Really? I’ve never been to any human’s house before.”

 "Maybe you can show me to your place instead, and I’ll meet you there tomorrow. I’ll show you to my house at some point if you really want to see it.” I didn’t tell them I had already been to their house. I don’t think I ever will.

“I think I know where you reside. Is it 114 Mulberry Drive? I remember when they built that house. Scary times. My dads almost made me move somewhere else.” They said, seeming to suddenly recall their suppressed memory.

“Yeah, it is,” I laughed it off. “Do you want to meet there tomorrow and give me the quickest route to your place? I can imagine you know these woods far better than anyone else.”

“Sounds good. See you at this time tomorrow, then?”

I agreed, and we parted ways. Out of all the interactions we had in my head when I was planning everything out, that was none of them. The meeting in the woods was quite a surprise and I never figured out what they were doing there. Or really how they ended up there in the first place.

~~~

About a week has passed since that day. I’ve learned so much about who they are, what they’re capable of, and why they’re here. Apparently, their hair changes depending on their mood. Their eyes too, but I didn’t get close enough to take note of them at all until they had stepped closer to me. Such a fascinating ability that deep inside a part of me envies. As they told me their story, it seemed like there was a lot of regret in their life. Like there was something they’ve longed for, though I’m not sure if I’ll ever learn what that something is. 

Despite the circumstances, we’ve gotten along very well and I’m very eager to learn more about them and become closer with them. I’m glad to have stumbled upon them. It seems all the fear simmering between us has subsided by now, which casts a blanket of relief over the two of us. It’s refreshing. I think I’ll stay here.

~~~

[valcuda]

I'm getting a new laptop for Christmas, and it's made me completely stop doing anything, cause those things will be so much more exhilarating once I get my new laptop! (Nothing will change)

(This is also my excuse for barely posting, I have nothing to post about cause of this laptop excitement, which is causing me to have nothing to do, cause I'm not doing anything, cause laptop that will realistically barely change anything)

-

Actually, y'know what? I was gonna end the post there, but instead, let me talk about this laptop I'm getting! This is my topicless talk after all, I need to be more topicless.

Okay, so I currently do nearly everything on my "Focus", a custom built Windows PC. When I say nearly everything, I mean I write on this, I view my drawings on this, I render on this, and I play my games on it!

I also have a laptop, an Inspiron 3000, which is so fucking bad, I had to install Zorin OS on it, and use it exclusively as a word processor, and it still lags! If I ever want to write after I've shut off the Focus, I use the Inspiron!

It's so bad however, that I refuse to use it during the day, when I have the Focus on, which is when I do most of my writing. So, I have all my files on the Focus, meaning I have to copy them to the Inspiron whenever I want to work on them before bed...

-

THIS is where I got the idea for the new Laptop! If I can get something decently fast, then I can just keep the story files on it, and back them up to the Focus once every week. This way, I don't have to plan for writing at night, so if I randomly think of something, I can just write it down.

For the new laptop, I decided to go for a 2-in-1, cause I might as well, I've always wanted one. I also decided to go for a Dell Latitude, as my first PC was a Latitude E6500, so I have a good experience with them!

This lead me to finding the Latitude 5289, a laptop that meets all my requirements! And even has a PEN!!!!!! It doesn't officially support Windows 11, (and the Pen doesn't have full compatibility with Linux) but that's not gonna stop me.

-

Anyway, so the idea is, I can try using it to aid with artwork, specifically for making VRoid models! As I'll now be able to draw the hair on, as well as drawing better template textures in VRoid, which should make it easier to make them in Medibang!

I can also use it for modeling in Blender! Obviously, the Focus is where I'm going to do renders and such, since it's far more powerful, but for making props for renders, it should be fine!

Like I said, I'm also going to be moving all my story files to it, meaning I can work on them at night! And I don't need them constantly open on my Focus! I can also work on them outside my room, meaning it should help me spend less time in here, which will likely improve my creativity!

-

Now then, those first 2 might sound amazing, but I'm gonna blow your mind! I'm already planning to get an app for my Tab S4 which turns it into a drawing tablet for my Focus, meaning I'll be able to do those things directly on the Focus... with a considerably more accurate stylus... and I knew this before choosing the laptop... yet still chose it over a more powerful one that just lacked the pen...

Yeah, I might be a bit of an idiot, but screw you! This laptop is just meant to be a word processor, meaning I only need more power if I have the pen! (Assuming I can run all my writing apps without the extra power)

-

Anyway there, I'm finally making this blog more topicless! No more Topical Talk!

[adhdrexic]

9/12/23

Diary post

well, the past few days I've stayed under 2000 cals which is progress from the 3000+ ive been eating for the past year. im not at the point of weight LOSS yet, but i am maintaining instead of gaining, and thats progress.

its been hard to admit that i have BED as someone whos been anorexic for nearly a decade. nobody talks about how painful it is to feel yourself losing control and not even understanding how to get it back.

my binge eating began because i was so unsatisfied with life that food became the only thing that provided me with dopamine, and it quickly became an addiction. now, its been a year, and im sober off drugs, but not off bingeing. i feel more unhealthy than i ever felt starving and popping stims 5x a day.

throughout the process of developing BED, everyone around me told me constantly how proud they were of my weight gain with no clue about my total lack of self control. they told me how healthy i looked, when in truth, im the most unhealthy ive ever been. and these comments fueled the FUCK out of me to just.. not stop. after all, im healing, right? im getting better?

it took me about 5 months before i was truly aware i had a problem. i had gained 15 pounds and i was happy with that. but then i gained another 5, and another 5, and another 5, and then 10 more. and i realized i couldnt stop.

healing from BED, for me, has been harder than developing anorexia in the first place. until a week ago, when we started talking about habit building and habit breaking in one of my college classes, i had absolutely no idea where to even start. i tried fasting. i binged. i tried exercising. i binged. i tried so much negative self talk it made me consider suicide as my only option.. and i binged... so much. so.. so much.

in all my bingeing, it wasnt until a few days ago that i admitted i had a bingeing problem, and that it had deveoped into BED. but now, here i am, taking the first step. admitting i have a problem.

i learned in my class that a habit consists of three distinct parts, a cue, a routine, and a reward. and through that reward comes KEY WORD craving.

so, my cue was feeling anything, any emotion.

my routine was eating.

my reward was the chemicals that come from eating rich, sweet, salty, calorie dense food.

and then i begun to crave it. and then it became my only way to cope.

so, now i have a mission. create new routines. new habits.

the cue can stay the same, but how i RESPOND to that cue, aka the routine, needs to change. i must do something instead of eating.

something that gives me a reward.

so, ive been writing. but it hasnt worked. so, ive been smoking, but it doesnt work. so, ive been distracting myself in hundreds of different ways, but nothing fucking works. so, what do i do?

my solution, is that i must use my addiction to food to my advantage. i hate using food as a reward, but i must, because it is the only reward that compares to the reward of bingeing.

so, every time i successfully distract myself from eating for at least 30 minutes, i will reward myself with a piece of candy. no matter how i distract myself, i will reward myself.

now, the difficult part is only allowing myself ONE candy. which is where i might have to get my boyfriend involved. The key is that i cant tell him that im rewarding myself for starving, so i must convince him im rewarding myself for something else. so, i guess my distraction will be homework, so i can tell him hes rewarding me for staying focused on my work.

the difficult thing about fixing binge eating is that you cant just get sober from food. its not heroin. its worse. you cant just stop and then have withdrawals and cravings for a while and then eventually get over it. you must learn the art of moderation. and ive never been one for moderation. so this is new to me.

i have one thing by my side, and it is grit and determination. i must, and i mean must stay motivated. i musnt lose sight of this goal. i must prioritize my health.

im not sure if i plan on becoming anorexic again. well, not like i used to be. i simply dont have the means to survive off 500 calories a day anymore. i have college, and a job, and a life i need to be lucid and functional for. but what i can do is slowly lower my goal to 1300 calories a day, roughly maintenance, and exercise regularly. not excessively, but regularly. and slowly, so, so slowly, i should get back to being a shape that i am comfortable being.

one day at a time.

[craycraychronicles]

This is the last thing I will ever say to you, Nicole Christina Shortlidge, my stalker of nearly 10 years.

I don't know what went wrong in your life. Was it that your mom didn't want you, so your dad raised you? Did the boys make fun of your big nose in high school? Are you feeling empty because you had to trap Baldy to get him to marry you? You know what? I don't care.

You clearly have mental issues that those around you should encourage you to address. There is no other way to explain your preoccupation with me, my life, and my family. Seething, looking for information about me, pretending you have informants telling you things.. it's truly pathetic and makes me feel sorrow for you. Genuinely. I'm not trying to be cute. You're projecting all kinds of things on me and I have to conclude it is because you have nothing positive to focus on in your life, nothing good to get lost in.

You see, I don't think about you. You constantly contact me to get my attention. I screen shot, post for documentation and move on. You're the one sitting there thinking about me, making these posts and writing these weird fanfics.

My husband is an officer. We just bought a 3000 square foot house and live less than an hour from the ocean. I'm too absorbed in my life and my LOVE to think of you. It even irks me I've spent this much time on you, but here we are. It feels necessary.

You're a sick person. You're not serving "karma" or avenging any perceived wrongs with blogs like this. You just make yourself look really, really crazy, illogical and downright trashy. I have somewhere I put all the screenshots of the things you've said and done to me (no, not here. This is an old backup.) The only reason that should scare you is if you know you've done something wrong, which you have. They're just your words. Documenting that isn't harassment, but what you're doing is.

Kindly fuck off. Forever. Find a new fixation. Nothing you're doing is touching me, except to occasionally be annoying. Like a gnat. You're boring.

Go away. Get a life. You're apparently pretending to be Italian (new personality?) so arrivederci. Do not reach out to me again.

I won't be checking this so don't bother replying 🤭

[cecaeliana]

UMA NAUTICA : arcs. ( including divergences )

inspired by @zzozo  ( psd )

arc one : pre - descendants  ( you gotta fend for yourself )

uma atlantica, the only daughter of ursula, the sea witch. born on the isle of the lost, a place where the sun never shines and the food is never fresh. she is raised by her mother, a firm hand to keep her in line- and a protective one to keep her out of trouble. for a small girl on a small prison island, uma can’t help but feel like queen of the world. she gets away with everything, loves pulling pranks and is best friends with the other isle bigshot, mal- daughter of maleficent. the pair terrorise the isle and its residents. 

but nothing good ever lasts and at the age of ten the girls fall apart, mal initiating aggressive action against uma, publicly shaming her and defeating her, marking her as public enemy number one. to make matters worse, ursula doesn’t want anything to do with the fight, barely lifting a tentacle to help out her daughter- it becomes obvious to the entire isle that uma is no longer protected by anyone, not mal, not her own mother- and she becomes a target. 

the bullying is ruthless, people calling her names is the least of her problems, but it stings just as much as the rest. aside from name calling, she undergoes constant public humiliation, with rotting fish guts and shellfish being thrown at her. everyone is desperate to prove that there is someone they can overpower and uma’s an easy target. to make matters worse, she used to think she was above it all. so call it revenge if you will. people love to see the mighty fall. and they’re more than willing to help her on her way to rock bottom. 

there isn’t much one girl can do, she’s weak, underfed, small for her age, and the bullying keeps coming. but not all is lost, she finds solace in the hook children. harry, her friend from an early age, and harriet, a caring hand in a cruel world. she has something, someone. they give her reasons to fight back, and better than that, they give her lessons in doing it. 

uma picks up a sword and never looks back. she defends herself with brutality. she doesn’t care who gets in her way, or who calls her names anymore. she makes an example out of all of them. and people start paying attention once she’s demonstrated why they should be listening. she makes a show of strength, of power. she takes it for her own. pushes herself back onto a winning streak and then keeps fighting. no longer content to just be second best, she’s determined to outshine mal in every way. 

it starts with a bid for territory. under her own name and her own power. there’s no hiding behind her mother’s name anymore. she adopts a new one. UMA NAUTICA. she doesn’t belong to her mother, doesn’t belong to a sea-kingdom outside the barrier. she belongs to this world, her world. she belongs to the sea. she’s a pirate. she’s a sea witch. she’s a goddess. but most importantly, she’s a faction leader in her own right. people are falling in line, agreeing to follow her, agreeing to work for her. 

captain hook announces a chance to win a ship he needs rid of, and uma takes that challenge too. she races against hundreds of other isle residents, but importantly, against harry- under the caveat that if she wins he’ll work for her, and if he wins, she’ll work for him. uma wins the race, not by much, but it’s still a win and for the first time she gets herself a real ship. THE LOST REVENGE.

it’s a rotting mess that doesn’t even float properly, but it’s a base, and a home away from her mother. she takes on only the most loyal people she can find and makes them a crew. with herself as captain and harry as her first mate. he does his best to get the ship working, but with the limited supplies they’ve got basically no chance. that doesn’t matter, though. it’s theirs and it’s home and it’s perfect.

arc two : descendants - descendants two  ( the revolution is coming the have-nots are gonna win this )

and then at age sixteen, the worst thing happens. mal and her cronies get chosen to leave the prison, to leave the isle of the lost and travel to auradon, to go to school there alongside all the princes and princesses. a reminder that there is life outside the barrier- that there is more to the world than simply stealing territory on a forgotten island in the middle of the bay. that there’s a whole world out there that they could be exploring. 

she’s filled with rage and unhappiness. all the feelings she’s been trying to push aside come flooding back and uma finds that more than anything she wants to be free of the barrier, free of the prison. and, more importantly, she’s disgusted that mal got there first without ever having to do anything for it. she got picked and uma is left to wonder why her, what makes her so special. it only causes her resentment to fester and grow. 

it only gets worse when mal defeats her own mother at the king’s coronation. she had been meant to free the entire isle, but instead she turns maleficent into a lizard and the barrier is closed- leaving the residents inside to turn their frustrations on each other. there are mass riots all over the isle and uma and crew have to defend themselves and their territory from the insurgency. and then they have to start looking for a new way off the isle.

so when word comes that triton’s trident has crossed the barrier somehow and is sitting in the water around the isle, uma is left with no choice but to go after it- so she can use it as a bargaining chip to get herself and her crew off the isle. but her own boat doesn’t float, so she has to strongarm someone into letting her borrow one that does- and she has to blackmail yen sid’s apprentice into giving up the location of her mother’s lost necklace. and she takes her crew to retrieve first the necklace, and then the trident. 

the necklace is well guarded with traps and the pirates almost die escaping a collapsing cave, but they get what they need and they rebuild ursula’s shattered necklace. it responds to the trident, both godly gifts from poseidon himself, and the crew set off in search of it. a storm whips up around the isle, though- and outside the barrier mal and co are racing to save the trident from falling into the hands of a villain. specifically, uma. 

it ends in a showdown, with a small hole in the barrier allowing uma her first taste of real magic, but mal still wins. she uses her magic to turn back time, allowing her a chance to get to the trident before uma can lay her hands on it- leaving uma confused and angry that she’s been cheated out of her freedom once again. 

this only cements the idea in her mind that mal doesn’t care about anyone but herself, that she’s so eager to hold onto her life in auradon that she’ll happily leave the rest of them imprisoned permanently. so it’s up to uma to hatch a plan to bring down the barrier. 

fortune favours her, it seems, when it drops the king of auradon straight into her lap. and she uses him as a bargaining chip to get mal to bring her fairy godmother’s wand, the only thing powerful enough to bring down the barrier from the inside. only mal brings a fake and escapes with the king, and the barrier intact. or so she thinks. 

uma in a last-ditch effort, jumps through the barrier as mal and co are leaving, throwing herself into the waiting arms of the ocean and swimming her way to shore with a gift brought to her by one of her followers- mal’s spellbook. she seeks out a spell and performs an enchantment on the young king, causing him to publicly spurn mal and choose her. she’s incredibly close to getting him to drop the barrier when mal figures out her plan and stops the whole thing. 

uma throws herself into the ocean again and turns, for the first time, into a cecaelia. a brief fight ensues, but in the end she’s left with no choice but to flee into the sea, alone. but for the first time, free. 

arc three : the lost year - descendants three ( if you stand for nothing what’ll you fall for? ) 

freedom isn’t all it’s cracked up to be, really. not when there’s no-one to share it with. uma spends her time exploring the depths to avoid guards of both the land and sea variety and, when she’s sure they aren’t looking, trying to bring down the barrier. 

but it’s difficult. the auradon guard are searching and so, it seems, are the merfolk. so she has to be careful and crafty. she spends a lot of time in the darkest depths, meeting creatures thousands of years old. or on the surface, on remote islands or the backs of whales that are willing to carry her. she discovers an aptitude for disguise that allows her to search auradon for spells that might bring down the barrier. 

and she spends her free time staring hopelessly through the magical wall at her crew, wishing she could be with them. she does find a small crack in the barrier, not big enough to get through but she finds she can talk to someone on the opposite side. specifically, hades. and she finds she can work just a little bit of magic through the hole too. 

together they come up with a plan. mal returns to the isle again, to try and sell the idea of VK day- and construction begins on new buildings, so clearly there is some amount of effort being made- but uma isn’t content with that and she enlists hades to help her try and get the barrier remote from mal. 

they end up battling it out in a dreamscape, and when uma almost has the remote, mal is snatched away by her friends and the hole in the barrier is closed. leading her to believe that hades double crossed her and once again leaving her with no way onto the isle, and no way off it for anyone still trapped there. 

she spends around a year outside of the barrier. and as the people get more complacent, she spends more time around the isle, watching for her moment. it comes a week after vk day, when mal and co are forced to travel back to the isle and as they leave, harry and gil jump through after them. uma, watching from below the water, sees something fall from the bridge, hears mal’s cry and immediately snatches it out of the air. 

it’s hades’ ember and it’s full of power. mal declares she needs it and so uma decides to use it as a bargaining chip, threatening to destroy it if mal doesn’t agree to release all the vks. knowing better than to trust a simple agreement, uma follows mal to auradon to help her save it and make sure she keeps good on her promise. 

though it becomes clear the situation is more dire than expected and that if the gem isn’t returned to mal there won’t be much point in freeing the villain kids because they’ll just be turned to stone. so uma returns the ember to mal. only to be told that mal had been lying the entire time about the vks and that the intention is actually to close the barrier for good, so that no-one can ever go in or out again. 

betrayed and angry, uma abandons the mission, refusing to try and help re-light the ember after celia douses its flame. but another problem presents itself, celia gets kidnapped by audrey and mal is losing the battle without the ember, so uma is left with no option but to re-ignite the spark. it drains her very quickly, but the ember sparks back into life and mal wins the battle. but audrey is dying and there’s nothing that anyone can do. except hades. 

uma has a choice to make, she can go back to the isle for good, with no hope of leaving and no chance of escape, or she can stay in auradon while everyone left behind suffers. it’s not a choice at all. she volunteers to go back to the isle, to watch out for it, to look after it once the barrier is closed. she returns willingly to captivity- with harry and gil in tow, even though she had tried to convince them to stay.

arc four : queen of the isle of the lost - main verse ( every action is an act of creation ) 

back on the isle, a week passes- the residents and uma all believe that the barrier is closed permanently, that there’s not going to be any way off from now on. uma starts really planning for the future of the island, wanting to keep people as safe and as happy as possible, despite the dire situation. and then she spends the lesser part of her time still contemplating how to bring the barrier down. 

until the unthinkable happens, and the barrier disappears anyway. mal, having had second thoughts, brings down the barrier completely- freeing everyone. though it is later made clear that the adults are being tracked and placed on probation, since they’ve already served a life sentence in inhumane conditions. if they reoffend they’re getting sent back to prison, only one slightly less geared towards violating all the basic human rights. 

with the barrier gone, many residents take their leave. around half of the population decide to go and live in auradon- but there are some who still think of the isle as their home, some who don’t want to leave. uma amongst them. she wants to see what auradon has to offer, of course, but living there doesn’t really feel like her thing. 

not to mention that she’s determined to see through the betterment of the isle now that she’s started. she names herself unofficial queen of the isle, though six months later they hold an actual vote on who should get the title and she wins in a landslide. 

she turns her focus to making the isle a flourishing economy in its own right. together she and ben work on building lasting structures, on putting in the right infrastructure- water pipelines and electricity. magic is used to turn the soil from a contaminated mess into land that can actually be used for agriculture and they begin farming their own crops. residents who want to learn skills are given the opportunity, with a focus on skills needed to keep the isle going, building and farming etc. 

ships are built and trade links are created between the isle and other parts of auradon. slowly, they build a working community. people work, they have enough food, clean water. the isle begins to flourish, until eventually, it’s a place people want to live. and a place people can live quite happily. and uma, queen of it all. 

she takes time, between creating plans and laws and building a better future, to explore auradon properly, to travel up and down the country and see it in all its splendor alongside her crew. they explore thick jungles and forgotten caves. they get to experience real freedom. 

arc five : emancipation and secession  ( raise a glass to freedom - something they can never take away )

in the far future, once the isle has established itself as a state in its own right, with everything it needs to rule itself, it’s not long before the idea spreads that maybe they don’t have to be a part of auradon, to be beholden to the country that had shunned and imprisoned them for twenty two years. they have everything they need to control themselves and that’s what they should be doing. 

and it’s hard to disagree. auradon is not just an overbearing ruler, but a constant threat- the fear that the barrier could go back up at any moment is an ever present fear in people’s minds. and more importantly, the isle never signed into any treaty with the united kingdoms. 

so the answer becomes obvious, secession. but done peacefully and not through revolution. the citizens on the isle are given the chance to vote on whether they want that or not. when the vote comes out a yes, uma enters negotiations with ben- and the rest of the leaders in auradon, to try and find a peaceful, amicable solution. 

it takes time, as with anything related to politics, but eventually the isle comes out as a solo nation, not technically part of the united kingdoms of auradon, but a close friend and trade partner nonetheless. it stands as its own country and the residents no longer feel like they have to live in fear of the control from auradon. for once, everything is at relative peace. 

[therealvinelle]

I agree that Aro definitely is not straight, but if he is gay and not bi, why window shop for a wife? If he wanted a partner for some reason, why not find a male one? It was a different era, yes, but are vampires really homophobic?

So, for this meta, we’ll have to get historical. Before we do, keep in mind that while I know Ancient Greece better than most, having studied it (introductory level classes only, mind), I don’t know it well enough to be any kind of authority on the matter. History, more than any other discipline I can think of, is not respected as an academic field, and people with poor to no understanding of historical hermeneutics will make very bold assumptions that they then have too poor understanding of history to realize are bullshit. This is a disclaimer because I don’t want to join in on the chorus of authoritative-sounding people on the internet with no verifiable credentials who spout things about history that are then taken to be gospel truth by readers because the author made it sound good.

More, I say this because your question is asking me to explain the morality and social norms surrounding a character from 14th century BC Greece. And this man would not, for the record have been Ancient Greek, he would have been Mycenaean Greek. Very quick history lesson: Mycenaean Greece was a flourishing society that suffered a downfall, Greek civilization fell into its very own dark ages, until around 800 BC when Greeks began forming what would become the Ancient Greece we know and love. This in turn means that I can’t very well read up on the marital and sexual norms of Ancient Greece when I’m researching for Aro, because he was five hundred years old already when Ancient Greece became a thing.

And your question concerns cultural history. And for that we’re going to have to look at how we know the things we know about history. How history is studied.

Historians have two kinds of sources: archeological findings and written records. (I’m aware that oral tradition, like the one carried by the Aborigine people, isn’t technically one of these, but to my understanding it’ll be treated to similar analysis as written records, which leaves us with the two types of sources standing strong.) These sources are analyzed, and we apply various theories and models onto them to make sense of the context they were written in. The more sources we have, the more we can refine or eliminate these theories or models.

More, history is an ever evolving field. There are movements and schools of thought that influence how history is written (marxism in history, that is, history as a class struggle, was heavy in the 60′s and I think until the 80′s), which means that how a certain culture will be perceived today is not the way it was perceived a few decades ago, nor will it be perceived the same way a few decades in the future.

You see why I am daunted by you asking me to give you an answer about sexual and marital norms for a guy who lived 3000 years ago, and I hope you’ll understand why I feel this word vomit is necessary.

Now, the danger with Mycenaean Greece is that it’s a society it’s easy to feel we know a lot about, because it was the precursor to Ancient Greece, and we know a lot about the latter. But, first of, the reason why we know as much as we do about the Ancient Greeks is the Romans. The Greeks wrote about their history, their philosophy, their government, and they wrote plays and told stories. However, that was two thousand years ago and their writings would have been lost to the sands of time if the Romans hadn’t idolized and sought to emulate their society. This meant preserving their written records. This tradition was carried on by the Christians, in part because Hellenistic philosophy was incorporated into Christian philosophy. We have neo-platonism to thank for Christian asceticism, the “mind over matter” cornerstone.

What I’m getting at with all of this is that we know the insane amount about Ancient Greece that we do because of some very unique circumstances, and so we can make very sophisticated theories about what the Hellenistic world was like. It’s still detective work, but not Pepe Silvia type of detective work. This is not the case for Mycenaean Greece. We know a comparative lot about Mycenaean Greece, considering how long ago it was, but there is very much we don’t know.

With Mycenaean Greece, we are dealing with a lot more uncertainty. We haven’t deciphered one of their two writing styles, and a lot of the text we do have is very fragmentary. Coming up with detailed societal models for Mycenaean Greece, and for the 14th century BC specifically, is... well I don’t know enough about what this society left behind to know what historians have to work with, but I imagine they have their work cut out.

More, I haven’t studied this at all, which means that any attempt on my end to research this would be stumbling around in the dark.

One example: the Illiad and the Odyssey, while composed around the 8th century BC, were set in the early 12th century BC, which is nearly Aro’s time period. The Illiad depicts a homoerotic relationship between Patroclus and Achilles, and both works depict a lot of matrimonies, so I wish I could use it as a source. However, not only would this time gap alone make these sources questionable, but there’s also the matter of the Illiad and the Odyssey being transmitted orally, from bard to bard. Changes were made over the years. For example, the technology described in the Illiad is from several eras, as the warriors will be using bronze weaponry in one book and then switch to iron in the next. This game of telephone is what happens when a story is transmitted orally from person to person. So, while it’s tempting to use these works as a sort of reference point, the possibility, likelihood even, that the bards made adjustments to keep the old story entertaining for their contemporary audience is strong.

For this reason, I can’t give you any kind of historically correct analysis on what the marital or sexual mores would have been like in Aro’s time. Even if the knowledge is out there, I don’t have it.

But I can say this, spouses have for the longest time been partners. Men and women got married, even in the gay, gay, Ancient Greece, not just to have children but because they complemented each other, they were partners. Men needs wives, and women needs husbands. And a partner was canonically exactly what Aro was looking for, feelings had nothing to do with it:

After Caius and Marcus had found their romantic attachments, Aro decided to find his own, although rather than finding his other half in another vampire Aro decided to create his own instead. Aro had a certain type of woman in mind and he found what he was looking for in Sulpicia. He successfully courted her and she came to fall in love with him.

As for vampires being homophobic, I think that is for another post about what culture they bring with them into their new life. But to be brief I’ll say that while the individual vampire can be homophobic, there can be no homophobia at an institutional level because vampires have no institutions. And it’s the institutional homophobia that gets ya. It’s what the whole fight for gay rights has been about: secure legislation against discrimination and that protects gay people. (The right to marry and protection from employees firing LGBT employees comes to mind as examples of this.)

So, no one could force Aro to marry a woman. 

And I’d go into a rant here about how the prospect of gay marriage, of even identifying as homosexual (the labels homosexual, bisexual, and heterosexual are very new and, to my recollection, were born off of the Western psychiatric discipline as men who slept with other men were diagnosed with homosexuality. I imagine a man from the Antiquity would be confused at the notion that just because he likes to sleep with dudes he shouldn’t get married to a woman), was unthinkable up until very recently, but I just made this obscenely long rant about how I can’t really make these kinds of guesses, so I’m not gonna.

I think being married to a woman and then banging hot dudes who came along suited Aro just fine.

Also, I can’t believe I’m doing this, but - I’m going to encourage history asks. Because this fandom has a bit of a history problem, as a lot of the characters are from different time periods and many feel unsatisfied with the way Meyer handled that. I am by no means a historian, but I know several of the historical periods the characters of Twilight are from well enough to make educated guesses.

So, hit me with your worst.

[technoblade-simp16]

This is a story I made for a writing event by dreamwvrld, my prompt is fallen angel/devil au with c!technoblade. Dont forget to check out @dreamwvrld and all the others that are participating in this event (check the tags to see the event and the writers participating in it)

Word count: 3000+

It has been many year's since you've fallen, not quite sure exactly how many though. You've grown to accept being condemned even though you did nothing wrong, you actually prefer living down on earth rather than heaven seeing as how it changed from the supposed holy place it once was to becoming a place governed by unjust and unfair 'saint's' now being only a shell of what it was before. Though you've roamed the earth for quite sometime you never really interacted with mortals much, the first and only person you actually talked to eversince you fell from grace was a demon named badboyhalo. It seemed that you two had something in common as he was kicked out of hell because of how nice he was, ever since your first encounter with him you started meeting with him more and he became your first friend. As time passed by he started worrying that you were too lonely seeing as he was the only person who you befriended.

"you need to find more friend's you muffin, so that you wouldn't be so sad and gloomy all the time" hearing this i once again told him for the hundredth time that i was not interested in befriending mortals seeing as they'll just grow old and die one day while me and him are immortal. "Well i think i know someone else that's immortal, maybe you can befriend him" "Oh? And who is this person you've never told me about for some reason?" "Hehehe.... Sorry, i don't really know him well so i never really thought of telling you." I just nod and signal him to continue "well his name is Philza and I'm pretty sure he's an angel of death from the vibe he gives off sometimes"

*An angel of death? From what i remember they're supposed to be like grim reapers but resemble fallen angels just without the halo.* Bad then points in a direction "he lives that way but his house is quite far so it might take awhile, maybe 5-8 hours of flying depending on the weather. Though he's an angel of death he's actually more of the town dad treating nearly every kid he see's as his own so I'm sure you'll get along with him great. He also lives with my other friend he's a piglin named techno he always says technoblade never dies but i don't know if he's actually immortal or not, they live together in a house located in the thundra and it's currently the only house there so you shouldn't have a problem finding it"

"so you want me to spend possibly 8 hours flying just to see a dad and someone who has a catchphrase and might be immortal?" Bad only nods and waits for a response, you want to say no but if you do he's just gonna keep asking you to do it and use his puppy eyes like always, *sigh* "fine, I'll do it. But if anything happens I'm going to kill you when i get back got it?" He hesitantly nods knowing you're not lying about killing him. "So, when will you be leaving?" "Tomorrow since i have nothing better to do and besides, the sooner i befriend them the sooner you'll stop pestering me about making friends" bad only nods and smiles at me, he's happy that I'm actually gonna try and make friends. After about 30 minutes of chatting, mostly him telling me about the people I'll be meeting he gets up "Well i should probably get going, skeppy might destroy our house if I'm gone for too long" i nod and we say our goodbye's and he takes off flying to his and skeppys house, "i should probably start packing some stuff for the journey since it's going to be quite a long one and i should prolly head out early in the morning if i want to be back before midnight"

*Time skip to early next day brought to you by my lazy ass and last two brain cells*

"Ok lets see if i have all my stuff, food? check, weapons? check, spare clothes? check, other stuff that I'm to lazy to count one by one? check, ok i think that's about all the stuff i need i think. Well i should get going now since its gonna be a long flight" with that i leave the house, spread my wings and take flight heading in the direction bad told me. The sun hasn't risen yet since it's only 4 in the morning so hopefully i get there before noon, as I'm flying i think about how i should approach the two when i get there, "maybe i could talk with philza since we're both angels or maybe i could talk to that techno guy since he doesn't like governments from what bad told me and heaven is like a government and i dislike it" i keep thinking about how i should talk to them so much that i don't even notice that im in the thundra already, i only snap back to reality when i feel a snow flake land on my nose and it makes me sneeze a bit "damn how long was i zoned out?" i look at my watch and see that I've already been flying for over 5 hours "I've been flying this long so i should be close to it by now" after about 15 more minutes of flying a house comes into view, it was a single house in the thundra so that might be it. I land carefully as not to make to much noise and head towards the door, i can feel my whole body tense up from all the nervousness since it's been a long time since i interacted with people besides bad and skeppy. I nock on the door a few times and wait patiently for someone to open it i can hear footsteps coming closer and i take a deep breath and exhale trying to calm myself. The door opens and reveals a man with large black wings wearing a green robe and a white and green striped bucket hat, *this guy must be philza from the looks of it.* The man just looks at me and i finally speak up "are you philza by any chance?" "Yes and who might you be?" "My name is y/n, i came here because my friend badboyhalo told me to" "bad? Why would he send you here" "he says that i need to make more friends but i don't really want to be friends with mortals since they'll die eventually so he told me about you and said that you're immortal so it should be fine" he's caught off guard by what i said but goes back to being calm, he tells me to come inside since it cold outside so i do, we both take a seat by the fire place and he starts talking "so, are you immortal too?" "Yeah, im actually an angel, a fallen one to be exact and from what bad told me you're an angel of death yes?" "Yes i am, how did you end up falling if i may ask?" "i got blamed for some stupid crap i didn't do and they ended up banishing me here although I'm a bit pissed for being wrongfully punished i actually prefer living down here rather than heaven" we ended up talking for a while telling more about each other, he also told me about his wife who turns out to be lady death and that she's the reason he's an angel of death, at first i didn't believe it but then he showed me hundreds of pictures of her and i had no choice but to believe it.

After an hour or two of talking i heard the door open, i looked to see who it was and i saw a piglin wearing a red cape and a crown i figured he was technoblade since he matched what bad described me. After he noticed me he just stared at me, he seemed to be wondering why a random stranger was in his house he looked tense but phil told him that i was ok and i was not an enemy. He asked phil who i was anf why was i here and phil told him about me like how i was a fallen angel and that bad told me to go here since he wants me to make more friends, after that he looked at me and gave a questioning look "don't angels suppose to have a halo?" I chuckle a bit and snap my fingers, my halo materialises above my head it was a shiny obsidian black with a glowing gold pattern runing along the middle and some of my feathers also became gold as a simbol of how wasn't an ordinary angel before but a gate keeper angel. He seemed to be mesmerised by gold glow from my halo and wings, makes sends though since he's a piglin and all, phil snaps him out of it when he asks him if i could stay for the night since a storm seemed to be coming in, he nodded and returned to staring at the gold feathers on my wings which just made me laugh since from what bad told me he was supposed to be this though and stoic warrior but here he is, unable to look away from the gold feathers staring at them like a dog who saw a squirrel phil chuckles a bit and leaves, possibly to make some food for us. He snaps back to reality when i start walking to him, he looked a bit tense since he's still not sure about me, i run my hand through one of my wings and stop when i reach a gold feather, i pluck it out and reach out my hand giving it to him "what?" Was all he could say "well you looked like you couldn't look away from my feathers and i know that piglins like gold a lot so i thought i could give you one of my feathers" "why?" "Well cuz if i want to befriend you than i need to make a good impression" he grabs the feather and looks at it for a bit and looks at me "thanks" "you don't talk much do you?" He laughs at this which made me smile since he seems to trust me. time goes by and we just sit by the fire place talking about our selves and our opinions on things, "what are your thoughts on government?" He asked me "well from experience i think their complete shit, using their power to benefit themselves and punishing those who dare oppose them" he gives a small nearly unnoticeable smile but it was enough for me to see, he tells me that both he and phil agree and that they're both actually anarchists, it doesn't surprise me since bad already told me. "What is it like up there, you know, heaven?" I frown a bit hearing this since i don't really like remembering heaven due to it being shit "it's not the holy and pure place you guys down here think it is, atleast not anymore. Heaven is governed by these 'saints' they're like a government, and most if not all of these so called saints abuse their power for their own benefit and punish those who have done nothing wrong, back then every thing was nice a peaceful but nowadays there's even drugs in heaven, now it's merely just a shell, a name for what it once was long long ago" he looked at me and could tell that i didn't want to think about it "I'm sorry for asking about it" "no it's okay, i fell from grace a very long time ago and besides i need to be honest if i wanna make friends atleast that's what bad told me" after that techno told about himself like how he has voices and his head and what they say to him "why are you telling me this?" "Well you told me about stuff that you dont like talking about so i thought i could do the same" "ok then, does this mean I'm your friend now" "more or less yeah" we keep chatting about interesting topics such as fighting, mythology and suprisingly gardening.

*Time skip to when it's night and all should be asleep*

I should be asleep by now but something's keeping me awake, i try to sleep once again but i suddenly hear a noise coming from down stairs. I got up from the bed and quietly leave the spare bedroom and head to the stairs, as i walk down the steps i see that the door was open and there was a figure in the porch. I head to the porch and as i got closer i realised that it was just techno it seemed that he was lost in thought since he still hasnt noticed me so i gently tap his shoulder, he looks at me and gives a tired smile to which i answer with my own "what are you doing here late at night?" "I could ask you the same" "well i heard a noise and came to check but saw it was only you, though it seems something is troubling you" "it's nothing" "that's what people say when they do have something bothering them so tell me, besides I'm your friend now so I'm obligated to help if something is wrong" "did bad tell you that?" "Maybe, but i agree with it" he tells me about his problems, most of them being about the people who're hunting him down and how he's worried about his enemies finding this place and putting phil in danger as well as keeping the voices from hurting anyone that he care's about since they sometimes get to loud to bare with. I feel sad cuz it seems like he has quite a bit on his shoulders and i wanna cheer him up or atleast calm him down, whenever i feel down bad always hugs me and that usually works so why not give it a shot, i wrap my arms around him and hug him tight, he stills not expecting me to do this. He eventually relaxes and returns the hug, it feels like he needed something like this, someone showing that they care about him with actions and not just words. After about a minute or two i let go and see that he's looking better now, "thanks" "no problem, that's what friends are for anyway. Now let's get you to bed since it's still two in the morning and it's too early to be awake" i grab his hand and lead him to his room which felt a bit wierd since this is his house but at the same time it also felt natural in some way and i didn't know why. Once he gets to his bed i turn around to go back to the spare bedroom but stop when i feel a hand grab me by the arm, i turn to see that it was techno "stay, please" i couldn't say no since i knew he just needed someone to be with right now, someone who he feels safe around and it ended up being me. I give him a small smile "fine, though you might need to move a bit if you want both of us to fit in the bed" we both quietly laugh at this and he moves a bit so that i can also fit on his bed. I lay down on the bed beside techno and see that we're both facing each other, i get a bit flustered since his face was really close but manage to say a small goodnight before closing my eyes and turning around, i was starting to think this wasn't a good idea sharing the bed until i feel his arms wrap around me and pull me towards him. I can feel my wings and back touching his chest, his breath touching my neck and a sharp object poking me near a vital body part(his tusks poking the back of your head not that you sinful minds). I can't help but turn into a tomato but i was glad that he couldn't see my face since it was night and i was facing away from him, "thanks again" "n-no problem" was all i could say before shutting my eyes and focusing on falling asleep, after a little while i finally managed to drift away to the land of dreams.

*Time skip to the following morning (this is the last time skip i swear*

I awake to the rays of sunshine poking through the curtains and try to get up only to fail and i realise that techno still has his arms wrapped around me, i turn my head to look at him and see that he was still asleep. I couldn't help myself from smiling when i saw how peaceful he looked, it was so different from how he looked from when he first saw me yesterday, *he looks so peaceful, so calm, so charming* i qiuckly realise what i just said in my mind and try to calm myself the fuck down before i end up waking him up with how loud my heart was beating. After calming down i try to remove his arms only to receive a groan doing so he starts waking up and i try not to panick and muster the will to speak and ask him if he can let go of me now so i can get up but all i get is another groan and him muttering "five more minutes" "techno, i need to get up now we both do, it's already 9 in the morning" he gives one last groan before letting go and getting up. We both get up and leave the room only to be met with phil who gives us a questioning look to which we just shrug in response, the morning goes by without any stange things happening, we eat breakfast and talk more about stuff we have in common. Time passes by and it was time for me to leave we were all sad since it was time for me to leave especially me as well as technoblade it seemed from the look he had, i say my goodbyes to the both of them and turn to technoblade to give him one last hug before i go, this time he hugs back faster and tighter than last time, after the hug a thought came to my head and got me very flustered at the time my mind was yelling at me to either chicken out or do it to which i ended choosing the latter. I use flap my wings so that i get to his level and give him a kiss in the cheek, after that i instantly flew off yelling bye with a tomato face. As i flew o looked back to see techno touching the spot where i had just kissed him and saw a smile coming on his face, this made me relieved since this doesn't mean he disliked me but at the same time it made me even more red since it meant he liked it, liked me. I big smile appeared on my face and i laughed a bit *i guess this wasn't a bad idea after all, though I'm never telling bad about this especially skeppy. I'm definitely going to visit this place again soon though* and with that i had made two more friends and possibly something more, who knows only time can tell what it'll lead to.

Im finally done with this story, i had a hard time thinking of how to write it since i don't really do oneshots but hopefully some people will enjoy reading this. This was my story for dreamwvrld's writing event please go and check out @dreamwvrld and the other writers participating this event if you have the time, that is all.

[moonflowerlesbians]

Jamie is trying to ignore the new au pair. She doesn't need to fall for this beautiful and straight girl. But then Flora asks her to clean the pool after months without using it because "it's a perfectly hot and beautiful day and we need to have a pool party. And you're invited too".

Dani. The pool. Bikini. Jamie doesn't know how to react to this, so she decides to keep ignoring her. But she can bet Dani is looking at her... A bit too much.

took me a second but I offer you almost 3000 words as penance. also I sort of extended it because it's apparently impossible for me to write pure fluff.

AO3 link in reblog if that's your preference :)

~~~

“Ah, yeah, it’ll be perfectly splendid,” Jamie grumbles between pants, yanking the tie of the pool cover over one shoulder with a huff. “Sure, perfectly splendid to swim in. Have t’ get it clean first. Can’t just jump in.”

At half eight in the evening, she’d been trying to beat the bizarre heatwave that had befallen the English countryside, but she’s failing rather spectacularly if the moisture gathering at her hairline is any indication. She swipes an arm across her forehead and listens to the faint chatter from the open sitting-room window, where the other grown members of the household bask in the glorious company of electric fans. Meanwhile, Jamie swelters away the evening spraying down pool filters and vacuuming leaves from the tile floor because someone had the bright idea to remind an eight-year-old that she has access to a pool.

“Oh, please, Jamie, please!” Flora had pleaded, practically bouncing out of her seat at the dinner table and coming terrifyingly close to tipping several drinks onto Hannah’s pristine tablecloth. “It’s dreadfully hot and a beautiful day, and we simply must have a pool party.” She had gasped so abruptly that Dani nearly dropped her fork, Jamie noted with a subtle grin. “We’ll all have a pool party! And Owen can make sandwiches, and Mrs. Grose can bring picnic blankets, and you must come, too, Jamie, won’t you please?”

Then Jamie had made the poor decision to lock eyes with Dani from across the table. The desperation plainly written across her face had been enough to convince Jamie to concede with a faux exhale of annoyance.

Thus, the weary gaze of a haggard au pair run ragged by herding two children indoors is the reason Jamie finds herself skimming the pool’s surface for any leaves and algae that managed to weasel beneath the cover when she should be driving home.

“Sorry,” a voice comes from behind her, “I’m the one who planted the idea in her head.”

Jamie turns to find Dani, a glass in either hand, peering at her with the expression of a woman who is half-tempted to change places and take up the skimmer herself simply to have a moment to herself.

“S’alright, needed to be done anyway. Won’t be ready until at least tomorrow,” Jamie sighs, accepting the proffered glass with a grateful nod. “Kids tired of being cooped up?”

Dani puffs out a laugh that says, you don’t know the half of it. “You’d think they don’t have a house the size of my old school to explore.”

“Bet they haven’t even found half the secret passages,” remarks Jamie over the smooth rim of her glass. Dani sips from hers, and Jamie endeavors to ignore the bob of her throat as she swallows.

“The what?” The wrinkles that appear on Dani’s forehead are surprisingly charming. Too charming. Jamie shoos the thought away before it can land.

“C’mon, Poppins. House this size? This old? There at least have to be servants’ tunnels.”

“Have… have you found any?”

Jamie hums noncommittally, noting the way Dani shifts her weight on her heels as if she cannot bear the thought of standing still. “Did you come out here just for this?”

“Partly, yes, but,” she lowers her voice, “I really just needed to get away from the kids for a few minutes. Owen’s got them playing a board game, thank God, and after that, I can put them to bed. I adore them, but sometimes…” she shrugs.

“We all need space,” Jamie finishes, a bit more brusque than she intended, which she chalks up to the evening hour and the heat, and Dani takes a step back. Shit. “Meant to say,” Jamie salvages with a wince, “it’s nice to be alone sometimes.” She grimaces, doing her best to focus on the cool glass in her hand rather than the heat in her face and the flutter low in her belly.

“I know what you meant,” Dani says softly. Then, after a moment’s pause spent glancing from Jamie to the pool and back again, “You need any help out here?”

Jamie raises an eyebrow. “Lookin’ for excuses to avoid work, are we?”

“No, no, I, um… No?”

“Relax, Dani,” Jamie chuckles, setting her empty water cup down in the grass. Dani visibly settles. “If you’d like to drag the garden hose over, we’ll need to rinse the filters.”

“Got it,” Dani says seriously, and she practically marches to the nearest hose rack as Jamie watches with a quirk of the lips. The au pair completes tasks as if the world will fall apart if they remain incomplete a moment longer. It’s a quality Jamie admires in her, the passion and fervor with which she undertakes the seemingly mundane tasks in her life. Jamie also finds herself mildly amused by the way Dani stalks across the property like she might break into a run at any moment, always on high alert. Always tense.

Might be nice to see her take a full breath for the first time in her life.

Might be nice to see her at ease.

Might be nice to see her relax.

Very nice, indeed, it turns out.

Almost too nice, two days later, the way Dani lounges on a patio chair she’d dragged to the poolside, with a book in her hand and one leg propped on the seat.

Too nice, the way her hair looks beneath a sun hat, casting dappled shadows over the tip of a tongue poking out between pursed lips as she turns a page.

Too nice, the way she lowers her sunglasses over her nose to keep an eye on the children splashing and shrieking in the water.

Too nice, in fact, far too nice for Jamie, who tries and repeatedly fails to keep her gaze off pale, freckled skin and eyes as blue and clear as the water. She can’t sit still. Can’t seem to cease the bouncing of a leg or the rote twirling of hair between twitching fingers. Can’t seem to stop flitting from superfluous task to superfluous task long enough to catch her breath, stolen against her will each and every time she catches a flash of exposed skin dancing in the midday sun.

But the worst part, by far, is when she looks at Dani… Dani is looking back. Four times now, Jamie has cast a fleeting glance at the lazing au pair only to find her peering at Jamie with equal intensity.

Odd, Jamie thinks, fiddling with the stem of a bush a few meters away from the pool, to catch Dani staring so often. But coincidences have been stranger, she decides, chalking it up to amicable concern. She can’t allow herself to dwell on the occurrence. Too many possibilities that open doors to too much trouble. Far more trouble than Dani is worth.

But what if… a niggling voice at the back of her head chides.

No, Jamie reminds herself with a mental kick and an outward shake of her head. She had a fiancé.

Hannah sits with her trousers rolled to her knees, ever one for modesty, with her legs dangling in the shallow end of the pool, while Owen and the kids do everything short of pulling the poor housekeeper in the water to utterly drench her. Hannah, to her credit, is taking their antics in stride, no doubt due to the mustachioed mastermind currently huddled with two overeager children.

The promise to Flora had been a pool party, and, never one to give up on her goals once they were set in her mind, the girl had hounded the adults with unrelenting chipperness until, one by one, they had been worn down. Which is surely the only reason Jamie hovers at the edge of the pool deck in an oversized t-shirt tied at the waist and old running shorts--the only sort of swimsuit she could throw together on short notice.

“Thought I might get in. Care to join me?”

Slender legs enter Jamie’s field of vision, then Dani is only paces away, a hand resting on one hip. She’s removed her hat, left to save her empty seat, and her sunglasses rest atop her forehead, pushing her hair out of her face and onto her shoulders. Her cornflower-blue swimsuit hugs her figure, and Jamie forces her eyes up, her throat terribly dry. She swallows thickly.

“May as well.”

Dani leads the way to the water’s edge, dipping one painted toenail into the water and producing a satisfied noise. She turns to Jamie standing a few feet behind and sweeps the sunglasses from her head, shaking her hair out. “Hold these for me?”

Wordlessly, Jamie delicately grasps one temple of the white plastic frame as Dani steps forward, her arms over her head, hands meeting in a V-shape. The hidden muscles in her back ripple, and she executes an elegant plunge into the pool, emerging with a gasp and a whoop of elated laughter. A smattering of applause rises from the opposite end of the pool, the others having apparently stopped their scheming long enough to watch Dani’s flawless--at least in Jamie’s opinion--swan dive.

“Oh, Miss Clayton, that was splendid!” Flora’s shrill voice chirps.

Hannah remarks, clearly impressed, “I had no idea we had a professional in our midst."

“I’d hardly say professional,” Dani says with a modest roll of her eyes. The water swirls where she treads. She pushes water-darkened hair from her eyes. Then, to Jamie, she explains, “I was on the community pool swim and dive team for a few summers before I could get a job.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” Jamie replies. She passes the sunglasses to Dani’s outstretched hand and takes a seat on the sun-warm grey concrete at the edge of the pool. Dani swims up and places crossed arms beside Jamie on the deck, resting her chin on the intersection and looking up at Jamie. Lean legs kick out behind her into crystalline depths, and golden sunlight refracts in the water, bathing beneath the surface in an ethereal glow.

“You’re not getting in?” Dani asks.

“Not the biggest fan of water, if I’m honest,” Jamie confesses nonchalantly, as if by some miracle this admission will end the conversation.

No, Dani’s desire to learn, to understand, is far too intense for that. It’s another quality of hers Jamie admires, even if it feels as though she’s laying herself bare by sharing the tiniest details under her scrutiny.

“I knew plenty of kids afraid of the water back in the day,” Dani says easily, tracing lines in the small puddle that has formed from the droplets on her skin, “it’s nothing to be embarrassed about.”

“‘S not that. I just,” Jamie searches, somewhat defensively, struggling to convey the message without saying the words that reveal a weakness she is loath to expose. Her silence evidently speaks volumes.

“Jamie,” Dani says quietly, a furrow forming between her brows, “can you swim?”

Damn those observant eyes, that sharp mind.

Jamie looks away, shrinks just a little, scoffs with false bravado, “‘Course I can swim.” Then, “Can paddle… float….” Heat rises in her already flushed cheeks, and she picks at the skin surrounding the cuticle on her thumb.

“It’s… You know it’s okay if you can’t, right?” And Dani’s voice is soft, so soft, a murmur really, a whisper that makes Jamie’s heart ache. It keeps the sound from carrying across the pool as it does hold Jamie in her destitution.

She thinks back to a childhood of coal dust and dirty sofa beds and scavenging for food. Thinks of summers spent doing odd jobs to pay the rent, of sleeping on the porch because it was cooler out there than in the house. Thinks of covering herself with as much clothing as she could despite the rising temperatures to fend off roving eyes, to appear a larger threat than a scrawny eleven-year-old girl actually was. Thinks of boiling pots and scalding showers spent scrubbing her skin clean, as though maybe if she rubbed hard enough, the memories would wash away with the grime. Circle the drain once, twice, and disappear forever.

“Never really learned, I s’pose,” Jamie forces a weak laugh. “Didn’t have anyone really keen on teachin’ me.”

Dani is quiet for a moment. “I could.”

“Could what? Teach me? ‘S not your problem to worry about, Poppins.” The thought nearly sends her mind into overdrive. Nescience of an essential life skill is ignominious enough, but to have Dani bear witness to the reality is unthinkable.

“Well, sure it is,” Dani shakes her head, affronted at the mere notion. “What would we do if you fell in and drowned? Someone needs to keep Owen in line.”

Jamie notes the ‘we’ in her statement. We need you. Not I. Distinctly not I, Jamie repeats to herself. She fidgets with the knot in her t-shirt.

“Already told you I can paddle. I’d be fine.”

“Still.” Dani is staring up at her with a pointed look. She has the glint in her eye that Jamie recognizes from the instances Dani deems it necessary to hold her ground with Miles or persuade Flora to clean up her dolls at the end of a long day. She will not give in.

“You’re not going to let this go, are you?” Jamie raises an eyebrow, approaching Dani’s determination as one might a chest of buried treasure, hesitant, disbelieving, a bit curious.

Dani shakes her head again, the ghost of a smirk upturning the corner of her lips.

A beat, during which Jamie’s thoughts wage war amongst themselves. One team screams at her to take the opportunity to spend time with the woman that another batch reminds her is not interested in the least. Another group acknowledges the practical benefits of developing a skill beyond aimless paddling, while another still acknowledges the persistent flutter in her stomach.

At last, “Reckon you’ll be putting that fancy teaching degree to use again,” Jamie acquiesces with a sigh. “Doubt this is what you signed up for, though.”

“I know exactly what I signed up for.” There’s a mischievous lilt to Dani’s words that sends a bolt of feverish perplexion through her. Dani pulls back from the side of the pool and holds out her hands. “We can get started right now.”

Jamie must look as if she’d rather snip off a finger with her garden shears than get in the water because Dani laughs.

“Or not,” she says with a sincere smile, and she ducks back under the water before popping up at Jamie’s feet, wiping the water from her eyes.

“I’d rather not embarrass myself in front of the kids,” Jamie says with a chuckle. “Lord knows I’ve never done that before, and I don’t intend on starting now.” It’s a half-truth. The real issue stems from the moderately disconcerting realization that breathing on land is hard enough with Dani so close, and Jamie really isn’t keen on finding out what will happen if she tries to slip underwater.

A brief flash of her sputtering to the surface, limbs flailing in all directions, crosses her mind, and she shakes it away.

A whooping from the opposite end of the pool catches her attention, and she looks up.

It seems whatever Owen and the children plotted had worked. Hannah is, much to her presumed consternation, sopping wet from head to toe, though she merely wrings out her blouse and kicks a lighthearted splash back at the children, who, having completed their mission, slink out of the pool and wrap themselves in paisley towels.

“Finished already?” Dani calls, and Flora nods from the deck, a yawn splitting her face despite the clock only reading three in the afternoon. “I’ll be right there!” She turns back to Jamie, says softly, “Another time?”

Jamie nods. “Another time.”

Then, Dani is off, gathering her things and herding the children back across the stretch of grass and into the house, leaving Jamie to watch in delirious bewilderment as her heart pounds far faster than it ought to, given the situation. And yet, Jamie cannot fault it, nor can she calm her racing pulse, though she tries.

Dani is the cause, she knows. Dani is always the cause, and no amount of fervent internal reminders seem to dull her effect. No incalculable quantity of mutterings about ex-fiancés will stop Jamie’s breath from catching when Dani settles down for dinner. No collection of whispered slim chanceswill convince a weak heart to cease its clamant pattering at the sight of a column of silky skin. No platitudes can dissuade Jamie’s longing soul from going against her better judgment, from going against her learned experiences that say this will only lead to heartbreak.

Love is sink or swim, she has learned, and Jamie has been treading water, head just barely above the surface, for far, far too long. Dani has offered to hold her hand, quite literally, to guide her through the risk, if only Jamie will make a move to reach out. Perhaps… Perhaps, Dani can guide her to shore to rest among sand beaches and good company. Perhaps, Dani will not let go along the way.

Another time, then.

Another time, yes. But soon. Soon, because Jamie is rapidly growing weary of condemning her wayward heart to fruitless excitement, of shutting a thing down before it can even begin, like cutting down a sapling before it emerges from a seed.

It’s sink or swim, and, at last, Jamie chooses to swim.

[rainbowvamp]

The Enchanted (Mirkwood) Forest: Chapter 1

So... remember when I threatened to write a Barduil Enchanted AU?? I started it.

Chapter 1: more than 3000 words.

This is completely unedited. I'm just like... I wrote 3000 words in the last 2 hours. I'm wired. I don't accept concrit, but if there's a typo, you can tell me about that.

Tagging @mismaeve because she asked me to.

----

Thranduil has been alive for hundreds of years. By the standards of his people, he is not very old, but in his heart he feels weary. Death and destruction, war after war, is it ever ending? Does it ever cease. His mother, dead. His father taken from him by the responsibilities of the Greenwood, Thranduil has never felt so alone in his long years of life.

At least when they were fighting off some creature, he felt comradie with his fellows. Peace in the Greenwood is good for everyone except for Thranduil.

The Istari do not often venture into his father’s realm. The trees tell him of the brown wizard’s coming, and Thranduil finds he has no desire to see Radagast. He climbs into a tree knowing that it is likely that the wizard will pass right below him, seeking council with her father, rather than himself.

Except the wizard stops beneath his tree, and Thranduil is forced to acknowledge him.

“Young Elf Prince.” Radagast says beneath Thranduil’s tree. “Come down here. I will not shout at you all morning.”

There are rumors of Radagast losing his mind slowly to the woods, becoming as much a wild thing as any animal. Thranduil can’t speak to these rumors, though he suspects their truth at the strange look in the wizard’s eyes, not entirely seeing what is in front of him.

“And what do you have to say that is so important that it cannot be said quickly, Radagast the Brown?” Thranduil is insolent, and does not come down from his tree.

“Far more than I have time to, Prince Thranduil of the Greenwood.” Radagast’s hair is not nearly so wild or so grey as it will one day be, but Thranduil’s own feelings towards the man are unlikely to change. The wizard raises his fluffy white eyebrows at him and Thranduil sighs and comes down the tree.

—

Prophecies. Radagast had never much cared for them. He understands they’re a necessary part to making sure the world around them functions as it should, but he is not looking forward to playing his part in this particular one.

The King of the Mirkwood, Oropher, had been keeping a closer eye on his son of late, but not close enough. Radagast, the unfortunate carrier of this prophecy, had found it quite easy to find The Prince of the Mirkwood like it was any regular time, and not the time directly before the Prince is prophesied to go missing.

Not that the Prince has been made aware of this particular prophecy.

“You say that this will take me to another realm?” Thranduil says, staring down into a pool that he had never seen in his many centuries in the Greenwood. Put here just for him, apparently.

“Yes. There is… something there for you. The prophecy is unclear. Only that you will return and the Kingdom of Mirkwood will be better for it.”

“I don’t put much weight in prophecy.” Thranduil said cooly, though this wasn’t exactly true. He put just as much weight on prophecy as any help might, but… he wasn’t very fond of being included in one. “Have ever seen a prophecy name someone e so… specifically?”

“Not in all my years in this world.” Radagast sighed. “I have been prepared for this for a long time. I would not leave you stranded.” He fished around in his robes to pull out a vial of liquid that caught the light too strangely to be water, even for all it’s clarity. “If you pour this into any pool of water large enough for you to step into, if will become a portal back here. All you have to do is submerge yourself in it, and when you come up, you will be here.” Radagast gestured to the field around them. “Otherwise, you will return in one year’s time. You will go to sleep in that world, and wake up in this one.”

“How do you know this? It isn’t in the prophecy.”

“I take great pride in the care of these woods, and their inhabitants, Thranduil. I would not send you to another one without studying as much as I could to learn about what might carry you back safely.”

Thranduil looked apprehensively at the pool again. His reflection in it was too perfect, the water undisturbed by creatures or even the soft breeze around them.

“And my father knows about this prophecy?”

“Yes.” Radagast promises.

“Why didn’t he tell me?”

“Well, My Prince. Do you feel compelled to go now that I have told you?”

Thranduil doesn’t answer. Radagast knows he does.

“One year is but a blink in the life of an elf.” Radagast.

“Yes. And anything could happen in a year. These woods grow darker, threats loom from every side. I should not leave my people.”

“If the prophecy is to be believed, you leaving will only strengthen your people upon your return.”

Thranduil pondered. “What if I die over there? No one will ever know.”

“If you do not return in a years time, they will know. Though I can’t imagine what could be worse than the terrors you’ve faced already.”

Thranduil smiled wryly. “I can.”

Thranduil stepped into the pool.

—

The new world he enters is louder than any place he has ever encountered. Horseless carriages seem to propel themselves, and it must be related to how loud they are. They move aggressively, driven by men much like he might ride a horse.

He tried not to think about that comparison too much.

Someone bumps into him and he turns to them, ready to apologize or castigate, whatever is most appropriate, but the man is trying to rifle through his pockets.

Not that Thranduil has anything in his pockets. He’d left all his weapons in the Mirkwood. Stupid. Thranduil grabs the man’s grip like a vice and them man’s face goes from calm to fear for his life in just a few moments. Good.

“Do you know who I am?” Thranduil asked the man, who… rambled back at him in a language that he did not understand. Thranduil repeated himself in Westeron, but the look he got was just as confused he’d been when Thranduil spoke in Sindarin.

Great. He was in an unfamiliar, loud place, with no weapons, no money, and he couldn’t speak the language.

Prophecies were unbearable.

Thranduil released the man’s hand and in doing so made him stumble. “If I ever see you again I will break your thieving hand.”

The man doesn’t understand him, but the vitriol must be clear, because he scrambles off like Thranduil might bite him.

Good.

Thranduil wanders the streets. He has no definitive quest, no goal to accomplish, they just want him to come back with a way to improve his Kingdom. Whatever that was supposed to mean.

A man approaches him and holds his hands up, showing Thranduil that he is weaponless. The man speaks again in this strange, stilted tongue that Thranduil doesn’t much like the sound of, and Thranduil just rolls his eyes.

“Whatever you are saying, I don’t understand you.” He gestures with his hands to his speaking mouth, as though this will help the man understand that he can’t understand.

The man seems to understand. He puts a hand on his chest and says very carefully and slowly. “Bard.”

“Bard. I’m Bard.”

He taps his chest every time he says this. Eventually Thranduil nods. “Thranduil.” He makes the same gesture, touching his own chest. “Thranduil.”

“Thranduil. Okay?” The man turns his voice up, asking a question, but Thranduil has no idea what he’s asking. He holds up a thumb away from his curled fist, then points to Thranduil. “Okay? You Okay?”

Thranduil mimics the gesture. Curling his own fist and holding his thumb up and away from it. He looks at his own hand and then Bard’s. He has no idea what this is supposed to mean.

“What have I gotten myself into?”

“Do you- Do you not know this?” Bard speaks again, but Thranduil has no idea what’s going on. He should probably try. He watches Bard’s expression and then waits for him to speak again.

“Okay?” Bard asked, Smiling now and holding his thumb pointedly close to his face.

Ah. It’s a sign for wellness of some sort. Must be. He is making the question sound, and so he must be asking if Thranduil is well.

“Okay.” Thranduil repeats, making the odd gesture back at him, and Bard smiles, but this one is much less strained, relieved, probably.

“Good. Good. Um, do you know where you’re going?”

Thranduil tilts his head in a universal signal of “I have no idea what you just said.”

“Right.” Bard says, sighing. “Listen, come here. Come with me?” He gestures in a sweeping motion and Thranduil tilts his head as the man starts to back away. It doesn’t seem like a good idea to follow this strange man, but maybe this is the beginning of his quest. He follows, wary by willing, and looks for things to use as weapons.

There are a distinct lack of trees to break branches from in this loud land.

Thranduil follows the man to a place that smells very… strange. Like nothing Thranduil has ever experienced before. He thinks it would be pleasant if it weren’t so biting.

“Bianca, you polyglot, I have a job for you.” Bard says as he approaches the counter. Thranduil continues to follow him until Bard points to a chair and Thranduil takes this to mean he should sit.

The chair is much lighter than he expects it to be, considering it’s made of metal. He pokes at the fabric that is wrapped in some sort of clear material that is uncomfortably sticking feeling.

“Sit.” Bard says from behind him, and Thranduil looks up again.

“Sit?” Thranduil wants to know what this word means.

“Sit.” Bard gets up from his chair, and then repeats himself as he lowers himself back into it. “Sit.”

“Sit.” Thranduil repeats and sits.

A woman comes and sits beside Bard shortly.

“Hi. I’m Bianca.”

She puts her hand out, and this gesture, he knows from the men. He grips her forearm and waits for her to grip his back, far more tentative than it should’ve been, so they can shake. This is apparently not what she was expecting.

The woman says something, and then gestures to herself and Bard, and then holds her hand out to Bard and he takes it. They shake a couple of times and then drop.

Now Bianca holds her hand out to him, and he looks at her like she’s asking him to jump off a bridge.

“I’m sorry.” She drops her hand. “That’s just how we do it, but it’s totally fine if that’s not something you’re comfortable with.”

“I don’t understand you.” Thranduil tells her, gesturing to his mouth.

She nods. “Right. So English is no. Spanish? Hola, me llamo Bianca. Entiendes?”

Thranduil can tell by the cadence of her voice that she is not speaking the language of Bard any longer, and he catches on immediately. He doesn’t understand her, but if he tries, maybe they’ll find a language in common.

He tries four languages, and she tries five. None of them overlap even slightly.

The only thing that stays consistent is “Bianca” and so he sighs and says “Thank you, Bianca, but I don’t believe this is working.”

“Bianca?” She asked, pointing to herself.

“Bianca. You said it many times.”

“Thranduil?” She asked, pointing to him. He nodded.

“Ah, nods. He nods. Good. Oh good.”

“I think I taught him okay. Thumbs up, at least, I think he got.”

“Yeah, that’s good.” She pulled some sort of device and handed it to him. He held it and it glowed with light from within, but there was no candle. He turned it over to try to understand it, but she turned it back, tapping on the glass and making the display change.

He tapped a number, these he also didn’t recognize, and was surprised when it changed the screen.

Bard and Bianca shared a look that was not caught by the explorative Thranduil. A look that very clearly said, “This guy escaped from a cult or something, because he can’t use a phone and who can’t use a phone?”

Bianca took the phone back and pulled a stick out of her apron pocket and a napkin from the dispenser. “Family?” She asked, and he hears the question in her voice, but he can’t parse what she means. “Family? Looking for you?” She draws crude stick figures on the napkin with her pen that she doesn’t have to dip, he’s going to have to look at that, and the circles a set of them.

She points to a stick figure with long hair and then at him. He nods, pointing to himself.

“Family?” She points to the stick figures beside the one that is meant to represent him, and taps it again. “Thranduil family, where?”

Thranduil understands. These very kind Men are trying to get him back to his people. They were not going to help him with a quest. He shakes his head, smiles sadly.

There is a year of his torture ahead of him yet.

Her own face falls. She seems sad. He takes the pen from here, and draws his closest approximation of a tree. A long tall trunk towering well above the stick figures, and leaves on the ground and hanging onto branches, obscuring the view of a pond in the foreground.

Maybe trees were the answer. At the very least, a forest would feel more like home.

“Central Park?” Bianca asks.

Thranduil doesn’t know what Central Park means, so he just says “Trees.”

“I think he’s looking for Central Park. Look, he drew a lake, see. Central Park?” She pulled showed him the device, this time instead of the number pad, there were drawings of trees that moved and morphed at her will. He didn’t feel any magic in the device, so it must be something else, but Thranduil didn’t know what.

At any rate, she was showing him trees, and that was what mattered.

“Yes. Trees.”

Bianca nodded put the phone away. “Central Park.”

“Central Park.” Bard says with a smile. He stands and says something to Bianca, embracing her in a way that was much more familiar to Thranduil. “That’s not too far. Thranduil, Central Park.” He made the same “follow me” gesture that he had before and Thranduil stood.

“Thank you.” He said to Bianca, but she didn’t understand him any more than he understood her, so hopefully, the emotion got across, at least.

Thranduil fell in step beside Bard and was glad to be rid of the bitter scent of the coffee shop they’d just left, but was less glad to have the loud noises of the loud land made louder and more insistent to his sensitive ears.

“How can you live with all this noise.” Thranduil said glaring at a car that honked as it passed by them.

“Is it the noise? You don’t strike me as a city guy.” Bard says, looking at Thranduil’s normal hunting outfit that was very much not normal in New York. Not that plenty of weird people weren’t in New York, sure, but… Yeah, Bard just didn’t think he was from the city.

Thranduil makes a noise that sounds like a question without words, and it’s very regular of him, so Bard is kind of proud. “Too loud?” He asks, covering his ears.

Thranduil covers his ears. “Too loud?”

“Loud.” Bard raises his voice to demonstrate his point, and then says “quiet.” Taking his hands away from his ears and whispering.

“Loud.” Thranduil repeats, pointing to the cars and in the general direction of the street.

“You’ll get used to it.”

Thranduil is starting to get really tired of Bard saying things he didn’t understand.

“You’ll?” He asked, picking what he thinks is the first word in the sentence Bard just spoke.

“You.” He points to Thranduil. “You, Thranduil. I, Bard.”

Thranduil thinks he understands. “I Thranduil?” He extrapolates.

“Yes!” Bard says with a smile that is far too joyous for what Thranduil hopes is insufficient grammar. Surely they have verbs in whatever strange land they’re in.

“I Thranduil. You Bard.”

Bard nodded. “Yes, you’re getting it.”

“Bianca?”

“Her Bianca.” Bard pulls out a device similar to Thranduil’s as they wait at a street crossing. It is much busier than any such crossing in his own lands.

“Her, her, her,” He shows Thranduil a few of the light drawings of people who Thranduil thinks are meant to be women. Then he changes to pictures of men and says “Him, him, him.”

Thranduil nods. Her Bianca.” He points back the way they came. “Him, Whomever.” He points at a random man on the street. Men here wear their hair shorter than even the men form his own realm. It is strange to see, but does make it easier to tell the genders apart.

Though, Bard’s hair is longer than any of them men’s images he shows Thranduil. Odd.

“Him? Her?” He asks, pointing to Bard. It feels polite to ask. He had been making assumptions because of the beard, but all dwarves had beards, even their women.

This question is apparently a bad one. Bard looks sort of offended, which isn’t good.

“Him.” He says, point to himself. Then, he points to Thranduil. “Him?”

Thranduil takes a second to think about it. He thinks it might be more complex than just “Him” or “Her” but he decides that by Men’s standards here, he qualifies as a him.

“Him.” He confirms.

“Good.” Bard nods, and Thranduil asks again as the light becomes a little walking man and they continue on.

“Good?” Thranduil asked, and Bard nodded.

“Good. Okay.” He puts a thumb up and makes the same forced smile that he had before.

Thranduil mimics the gesture, and then nods, understanding. Good and okay were the same. “Bard good.” Thranduil says easily, and Bard’s smile becomes genuine.

“Thranduil good.”

—

Thranduil learns the words for shoes, hair, street, car, bad, not, tall, pigeon, and people on their way to Central Park. Bard has to explain that Central Park is a place with trees, since Thranduil thought Central Park was the word for tree, but otherwise, their little language acquisition goes well.

“Thranduil people here?” Bard points to the ground, and then Bard shows Thranduil the words for “here” and “there” when Thranduil doesn’t underhand before returning to his original question. “Thranduil’s people here?” He points to the ground again.

He knows that not negates things, and so he does his best to explain.

“Thranduil not people.” He feels like he must sound stupid, but he can’t think of any other way to phrase it with his limited vocabulary. “I had to come alone. There is only me.”

Thranduil doesn’t think Bard understands him, but maybe he gets the sentiment, because he puts on a sad face.

“I’m sorry.”

“Sorry?”

Bard makes an exaggerated sad face, much like his exaggerated happy face, and repeats himself. “Sorry.”

Thranduil nods. He is also sorry.

[winterwolf0916]

𝗙𝗮𝗺𝗶𝗹𝗶𝗮𝗿

Jason Todd x Tamaran! Reader

Requested by anon: Hiya! I love your blog so much, and I just was wondering, if you're taking requests right now, could I request some Jason Todd x a Tamaranean reader? Like maybe she stowed away to earth when Kory made a trip to Tamaran and she's really cute and sweet and enthusiastic and fun and she had no family back home so Kory's like yeah alright you can be my sidekick and she has to get used to life on earth and meets Jason as Robin and they become friends to lovers to oh no he fuckin dead to lovers again?

Warning: Fluff, Angst, Language, Mentions of Death, Slow Burn & oh! did I mention fluff?

A/n: My heart... Also, I pray and hope you enjoy this one, love. This took me a while to finish but I got it done and I got carried away it. I wont lie, my writing isn’t the best but I hope this is something you what wanted or close to it.

Word Count: 3K 

Kori loves your company

You were like the little sister she never had

A better sister than Blackfire of course 

When she brought you to earth you were so amazed at everything

It looks so lively and green.

Flying around and feeling the cool waters from the ocean, the beautiful smell of the flowers and pines from the trees, and the shiny reflection on the buildings.

As Kori was going to take a visit to the cave to see Dick for a mission, she brought you along for an introduction.

He looked scary once you were brought inside.

“Kori! So nice to see you again. Oh, who’s this?” Dick glanced at your direction as you hid behind her like a scared kitten. 

“Ah, this is Y/n L/n. A Tamaranean like me.”

“Hello y/n. I’m Nightwing.” You were mostly afraid of the masks because you haven’t seen anyone like him with that sort. 

Dick noticed your fear then he took it off, causing you to relax a little, and shook your hand. “It’s so nice to have you on Earth.” You only nodded your head with a small smile. But there was a large slam of a door and stomping onto the stairs.

“Son of a bitch! Son a crusty no good bitch!” 

“Jason. We have guests.” This… ‘Jason’ took a glance at their direction before giving a frown. Once again, you hid your figure behind Kori’s, scared onto the boy

Dick apologized to the two of you and went off to lecture his younger brother. 

Kori only sighed and notified you that this was normal of him before Dick came back.

“Don’t worry about him, he’s just having another rough day with our dad. Jason please come greet them!” He rounded a corner with his mask on and his suit with an imprinted R. 

“Robin. Pleased to meet you.” He sounded so irritated that he wanted this introduction to be over with.

Still in uneasiness with the mask, Dick quickly nudged his younger brother urging him to take it off.

Jason didn’t. 

He just walked past you guys and left the cave on his motorbike.

Oh how much ass whopping he’s gonna get from Dick.

The second encounter happened at the Titans tower.

You finally learned how to control your powers and perform such combat ability that you never knew you could do.

Dick and Kori were like parents in the Tower.

You really loved the Titans

Raven may be dark but you both have such a strong friendship due to your trauma back in Tamaran and hers with her father

You suffered from a torturous experiment that left you with very similar yet slightly different powers than Kori. 

Also you both love books

Garth always makes you laugh. 

When training he turns into a gorilla to lift a good 3000 pounds while you could lift a good 70 tons making him go EEK!

He would make very disappointing puns but it always amuses you while everyone cringes at the dinner table.

Cyborg is like an older brother to you. 

You would sometimes help him with the mechanics and lift heavy parts around while he rants about his day and he would also cheer for you when you’re sparring

They were the closest friends while the rest of the members adore you and your sweet personality

But when Jason came along with Dick for a small mission for a few weeks, you immediately locked yourself in your room.

The Titans were concerned 

You were so marvelous and bubbly to all guests. Even to the infamous Batman!

Did the small bastard do something to make you like this?

Planning murder

But Dick and Kori knew why

After a lecture with the boy, Jason came by your dorm at night, still in uniform, knocking on your door, you didn’t open up, only listened from the inside

“I’m sorry.” It wasn’t sincere really. “I know we started off on the wrong foot, um…” his hand went through his hair in frustration that he needed to do this. “Since we're working together, we’re going to need to become trusting of one another….I’ll...see you tomorrow I guess.” That was awkward of him.

As footsteps faded down the hallway, you started to give a small smile.

You start to warm up to him.

But when he starts doing the little things, the two of you grew a bond. 

By little things, I mean correcting your moves when sparring, telling you stories of his previous missions, listening to you, exposing embarrassing stories about Dick, bringing you your favorite meals in a large amount because you’re a big eater, and lots of others.

When you first saw him without his mask, you were floating above him, pulling his face closer to yours while admiring the beautiful color of his eyes. 

“Your eyes are the most gorgeous color I’ve seen here on Earth.” 

Oh how your face fell when he had to leave. 

Don’t get me started with Jason, he began to be more hostile when sparring with others

There was a time when he took out his feelings on a sand bag while Garth and Cyborg were questioning what that bag ever did to him.

Of course the ‘parents’ took notice of this and Dick would purposely bring you to the cave or Jason to the tower.

The two of you have such a friendship that you would sometimes prank one another yet enjoy each other's silence.

Carnivals or nights out in the city were always a blast.

Whenever the two of you would see each other, you would fly to him in a swift manner that he would sometimes stumble back to regain balance from the impact. 

Soon, a single touch from him exchanging a book to you, caused you to feel such an electric current.

His smile and laughter made your heart paced faster than the speed of light

His cocky attitude and sweet side made your nine stomachs filled with butterflies.

You panicked and told Kori about it while she was sitting on her couch smiling as you explained.

“You like him y/n.” “Well of course! He’s my friend isn’t he?” “Oh dear, you’ll need to sit down for this.”

Wait, there is a different emotion called attraction?

AND IT DOESN’T STOP?

The more time you’ve spent with Jason, the more your ‘attraction’ feels stronger.

You would sometimes daydream the two of you blossoming into a relationship like Dick and Kori.

“Did you hear that Kori and Dick broke up again?” Raven stated before taking a sip of her tea. “What is this, ‘breaking up’ ?” you asked with curiosity yet wonder about this new term

When Raven sighed and gave details about it, you were 100x more terrified about the idea of a relationship

What if you and Jason will experience the same if you both ever become a couple?

You tried to distract the feeling of disheartenment with your enthusiasm

But of course, the feeling always returns

Your legs were pressed to your chest as you gaze at the ocean and it’s crystal shimmers of the moonlight, still in thought about your feelings. Jason found you on the rooftop of the tower since he figured something was wrong for the past week

As he questioned it, you asked, “Jason have you ever liked a girl that is a friend?” His foot on the edge of the building nearly slipped once you asked.

“I mean...yeah, there are times when I really liked her.” 

“Do you still have feelings for one?”

“Very.” 

“Really!? Who?” You were excited but felt such pain in your heart.

This boy choked onto her request. But he spoke, spoke about this ‘mystery’ girl. How adorable she is and brightening everyone’s day when it has been horrid, including his own. How he admires her caring behavior whenever someone was hurt. He really likes her and would like to take her out one day. 

“Her name is Y/n.” 

“What a wonderful name she has.”

“You do know I was talking about you, right?” 

“Yes yes, she does have- wait what?” 

Dreamy sigh

Ah yes

Young love

Kori wasn’t all surprised as she and Dick saw the two of you were walking in the streets of the city, hand in hand. She was delighted.

Dick was thrilled to see the two together yet gave Jason, the talk, if he ever does something stupid to you

The Titans congratulated the two and some exchanged money with one another after losing a bet

After a couple of months, Jason had to leave for a classified mission that’ll last a couple of weeks. 

As he said his goodbyes, you gave a kiss to his cheek before rushing back inside and leaving him smiling to himself.

It was lonely for the past couple of weeks but the worst part was when it turned to a few months.

Dick headed to Gotham four weeks after Jason left.

You were frightened about your boyfriend’s well being

As Dick returns to the tower, he doesn’t look the same.

You thought he was acting in such a behavior to surprise you that Jason is back.

“Y/n...we need to talk.”

 “Ok?” Kori gave a concerned glance at Dick’s direction, clearly unsure of how you’ll take the announcements. “What? Why are you both so silent? Please tell me.” You have had such a glowing smile, ready to hear it. The prank.

“Look, I know you and Jason are in a relationship but I have some...news.” 

“I’m listening.” Your foot tapped in excitement while Dick grew uneasy.

“Four...four weeks ago, we located Jason in an abandoned warehouse. He was held captive there for God knows how long by the Joker. And, as Bruce headed to rescue him…” you wanted to laugh at how far Dick was taking this. 

Except, he wasn’t pretending

“...He was too late. The warehouse exploded and my... Jason...passed away. I’m so sorry Y/n.” He added. You clapped your hands and giggled

“Amazing job! Brava! What an incredible and creative prank Dick. Very impressive. Now where is he so I can finally owe him a real kiss.”

The adults were silent. You took their silence as part of the prank and rushed to the bottom of the tower to find him.

But he wasn’t there. 

“Ok I checked the 50 floors below us but don’t worry, I bet he’s on the roof. He’s always there.” You returned to the room where Kori and Dick sat you in.

“This isn’t made up.” Raven and a few others entered the room, you could see it in their eyes they weren’t faking but you still denied it. “He passed away y/n.”

“No he didn't...He isn’t...Jason! You can come out now! Jason?” You flew to the roof. 

As you searched and it was empty that was when your stomach dropped. 

“Jason!” You flew around the area. The more you searched, the heavier your heart became. As you landed on the roof and heard the doors open, you glided to Dick. “Where is he?”

“I’m sorry.”

“No…no no... this is a game, right? When I check the floors again he’ll be there, right?... Dick?” He pulled your hand and placed something on your palm.

“He’s gone Y/n. I’m so...so sorry.” Glancing to the object placed on your palm, your entire being froze at the sight. 

From what you’re told, the R emblem is one of the only parts that are the easiest to clean and the least damaged on Jason’s suit after all of his missions.

What Dick gave you was the exact emblem but it was badly dented, burnt marks covered the R, scratch marks on the front and back while most of the edges are chipped.

Your legs gave weight as you fell to the floor, holding his badge close to your chest, and screamed your lungs out. Your vocals were so powerful that they made half of the windows on the Tower shatter. Tears made their way down from your cheeks to the floor as your eyes turned in a y/f/c glow. 

You flew off, for time alone to grieve it all. When Kori found you, you broke down even harder in her arms

You weren’t going to turn to revenge.

Even though you saw it in Dick and a few others, you couldn’t.

Kori taught you revenge isn’t the answer along with the new Robin or better known as Tim drake

You weren’t happy Jason was replaced but continued with your bright personality.

But during the nights, you felt so empty and numb. 

Why 

Out of all people, why did Jason leave you

Your family and friends died due to the violence of the leaders that experimented on you.

But now the person you loved most?

More pain was placed on your shoulders.

You grieved and mourned whenever you’re alone or with Kori. 

Two months later, you decided to explore the world on your own. 

Saving Earth, countries, and other planets from danger. 

Yet discovering the beauty onto nearly every destination

This continued for four years before you were called to Gotham for a meeting.

You greeted the Titans, other heroes you’ve met during your travels, and the bat family before the meeting starts

When it was over, you felt someone’s eyes on you.

As you located the orbs burning on your figure, you found a man with extreme built, a red helmet covering his entire head, a scarlet colored bat emblem imprinted on his black suit, and a coffee leather jacket.

You were confused as to why his eyes were wide and his body leaned forward as if he had found gold.

“Kori, why is he staring over here? Do I have something in my hair?” As your beloved best friend glanced at the man you were referring to, she let out a pearly smile.

“I think he likes you.” She snickered as you rolled your eyes. 

In the past, some of your friends tried to set you up with many men. Key word: tried. It’s not that you didn’t want to, it just didn’t feel right. You did try to fall for them but it just doesn’t last. 

“Very funny.”

“I’m not joking. He’s looking at you like, in slang terms, a ‘snack’.” You chuckled at her before returning your gaze to the mystery man. But the color of his helmet was not present to your sight, instead, the sight of an exit door closing.

You saw him once again during a mission on a tropical island.

Someone was making hybrids based on DNA from different heroes around the world.

So here you were… 

Approaching the scene as the infamous Red Hood was getting choked by a 9 foot tall creature before you scared it off with a blast of your powers.

“Need a hand, big boy?” You reached out your arm, waiting for him to take it. He was hesitant.

“...Sure.” He took it and you couldn’t help but feel slightly surprised of how tall he was

As you found Kori and gave her a hug, you joined the team till the mission finished.

You really loved being in the group. 

But mostly enjoyed the company of Red Hood.

There was something about him that made you smile warmly as he progressed with his idiotic plan

Kori and Roy offered for you to be an Outlaw and you gladly accepted

But the third member wasn’t all too happy about it.

The four of you all reserved an Overwater Bungalow resort on the island

A week later, you heard arguing from Kori’s home while you and Roy brought food.

“I don’t understand you, why won’t you tell her already?” Her voice muffled by the walls of the hut.

“She’s not ready.” His voice in the room as well

“Y/n has been far too ready to know who you really are.” You haven’t heard Kori this angry in ages and what did they mean about you knowing?

“You don’t understand.”

“Oh I understand plenty,” You and the red head’s eyes widen at her sass. “How long can you keep this act up? This, I want to hide this because I want to protect her, act? Your brother used that on me a few times, hmph, always knows when to make a woman angry.”

Brother? But the only brother you know she dated was-

“Don’t compare me to Dick, Kori.”

Oh...Shit…

Roy put two and two together and oh shit! He remembered his best friend mentioning a girl before his sudden death. Roy glanced at you as your eyes were wide and glossy at the truth. He kicked the door open causing the two heads to turn while you were hidden outside of the hut with your head down.

How could you not notice it before… Red Hood not revealing himself under the helmet when he was in legit trunks, constantly putting distance between the two of you, displeased when you joined the outlaws, and the worried glances between him and Kori!

“Got the food!” As Roy set the meals down and you entered the room, the air was so intense you could cut it with a knife.

“I’m not that hungry so I’m going to my room.” Kori glared at the helmet man, causing him to release a sigh.

“Do you-”

“Perfect! Now take these,” Roy gave a bag of two take outs to him and led the unresolved pair outside. “Have a good night.” He shut the door closed leaving you and the vigilante in silence.

“I can take the bag.”

“You sure?” 

“Yes.”

It was so awkward the walk back to your huts.

He tries to make the situation lighter but it was no use.

All of that pain you felt years ago, returned and after realizing who he is...It felt so much worse.

“Hey y/n, do you want to know the story of my first kiss?” What is he trying to do now?

“That's pretty sweet! Random but sweet! Go on.” He paused in place under a shadow of a hut as a thick cloud covered the sun. His hand traveled to the back of his helmet and a sudden click was heard before steam escaped from the open cracks of his mask. It was dark and you couldn’t see his full features.

“It was a normal day, I was carrying some groceries with my butler but got lost in the crowd due to my sleep deprivation. And the craziest thing happened when I was struggling to find him, a cute y/h/c girl with bright y/e/c eyes came up to me and spoke a language I’ve never heard in my life. So I tried to understand her words but I was so clueless before she pulled my face and gave me a smooch.” Your stomach did a flip as you realized why the story was so familiar to you. “She apologized when she was done but spoke english. As she left me there completely bamboozled… I wondered, ‘I don’t know what the hell that was about but will I see her again?’ then my butler found me.”

It's a memory. Your memory and his. You dropped the bag.

“Jason.” As the darkness unsheathed and the sun’s light was visible, he took a couple of steps towards you and gosh… You didn’t realize how much you missed him when your eyes began to sting, shoulders dropped, and your bottom lip shaking.

You took flight and bolted in his arms. 

“It’s you… it's really...you asshole.” you shoved him lightly while Jason expected the worst. “Asshole. Asshole. Asshole!” Every curse is a light punch on his chest. 

“Easy...Easy!” He held your two hands by the wrists. “When did you learn how to curse?!”

“When you were dead!” Your eyes were covered by your signature y/f/c glow and tears streamed down your face.

“Calm down.”

“Calm down? I may be an alien and I may be nice, but I have feelings too. Feelings when we shared that first kiss, held hands, waiting for you to come back...hearing that awful news about you…” Your arms dropped and your head lowered. “And I’m feeling angry at you right now for not saying anything!” 

In all honesty, he really wanted to tell you. But he didn’t know how you would take it. He's not the exactly the same when he was a teenager and he’s been through so much as Red Hood that he doesn’t want the bad guys to target you and your superhuman abilities. But his feelings for you didn’t shrink a single centimeter. It grew. Grew that he was so close to return to you and kiss you like there is no tomorrow. 

“Didn’t...Haven’t you felt the same of how I felt for you, Jason? Did you hate me that much to leave me and start a new life? To get away from me?” You questioned as the glow in your eyes dimmed down to your y/c/e orbs but your water works didn’t stop. You were still shaking, thinking of how Jason never loved you. How he made you feel pain for years. 

He made you feel like a human. Being an alien on Earth was quite lonely. But Kori was there with you through it all. But when Jason, a human, made you feel like you’re a human… You didn’t care about the negativity as much, you focused onto the positives. You discovered things about yourself from a different perspective. You learned how to love.

A warm embrace and the sun falling behind the horizon made your entire being warmer than the heat of the light beams. Your fingers trailed under his jacket to feel his body heat.

“Not even close.” He pulled a little before resting his forehead on yours. “It was the opposite and more. I just didn’t want you to see me in my dark life. I died and came back from the dead, every minute feeling empty. But once I learned more about myself, I wanted to change for the better. But I made so many rough decisions, that I couldn’t come back to you yet until I fixed them. I didn’t want you to love a mistake.”

“Shhh.” You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer, running your fingers through his hair. “You’re never a mistake, only a good man who tried his best. The only thing that matters now, is that you’re here.” His teal orbs flickered to yours, your heart skipping a beat by the sight of your favorite colored eyes once again.

The sun was engulfed, the light dimmed till the sky was navy, and the stars were sprinkled all around the two silhouettes under the moon. The lock of your lips to his were the answer to your reunion.

[boop-le-snoot]

PARTY FAVOURS | EPILOGUE

💖 story masterlist 💖

This is it. This is the happy ending they deserve. Fluff. Fem!Loki, because we don't get enough of Loki's female form. Some musings about relationships in general, I think. Guys, I'm crying as I'm posting this.

note: I've got two posts of outtakes coming out sometime this week. Snippets that didn't fit in the story but that have the needed vibe, y kno? As well as a new story is coming out soon... Be sure to check out my main masterlist and taglist if you like my writing <3

I want to thank all my readers for this amazing journey. I love all of you, really, like- I haven't figured out how to produce serotonin on my own ever since I hit puberty, and you guys, you are an amazing source for it. I appreciate the time and the patience that it took to read this 120k word thing and I hope you found a little something for yourself in my writing. A comfort, maybe, because everyone deserves to be happy. I love you all 3000.

"You suck," I grumbled in Peter's direction. Luckily, the little shit was out of my immediate eyesight and I couldn't just pelt him with the assorted items that were scattered around me; luckily for him - after enduring hours of non-stop rambling from the spider boy, I was ready to bargain with Stephen for the sorcerer to put a temporary mute ban on Pete. His nervousness was becoming contagious.

"And you swallow," Pietro replied with a snicker as I heard him wrestle with Peter's tie over the pathetic noises of whining and grumbling coming from the younger man.

"I'm lady, ladies don't spit," I rolled my eyes into the skies, catching Loki's appreciative snicker. She - and yes, Loki was in her female form for this event - carefully combed and did my hair, something completely out of this world, all puns intended. I supposed she was feeling generous, because her female form generally made Loki even more moody and unapproachable. But in a hot way. I hope she didn't notice me ogling her like some kind of gallery painting. "You're a goddess, I can't believe you're friends with me," I addressed Loki, watching the careful movements of her slender hands in the mirror.

A small smirk and a dusting of pink over her pale cheeks was what I got, but the silence was so, so loud.

"Stop flirting," Wanda remarked from her spot by the window where she was doing Natasha's make-up with surgical precision. "You already have three boyfriends, leave some for us, Jesus," Her tone was playful.

"Oh my God, like you didn't brainfreeze and run into the fucking wall, forehead-first, when you saw Loki walk in," I scoffed as Loki's blush deepened.

My witchy friend grumbled something rude in Sokovian under her breath but refrained from any more comments, choosing to simp in defiant silence. Well, good for her, because I was about a hundred and five percent sure that Loki was as equally as smitten with her. It's just that neither of them knew how to approach the other. What can I say, idiots in love...

And yes, yes, I can say that because it takes one to know one. My own idiots were somewhere on the upper floors - getting ready in their own rooms, pulling out their brand new suits and ties for the annual Stark gala. It was supposed to be a charity fundraiser but as all of us were quite disillusioned, we knew it was nothing but a pissing contest between people with small PP syndrome. Even Tony himself said so.

Which is why I had assembled all the girls and theys in my room for a mission debrief. My own personal pride wouldn't let me be anything but a star, and to be completely honest, I just wanted to show off my family to the world - even if the delicate parts of our relationship were hidden from the general public, it filled me with immense amount of joy to be surrounded by my very own at their absolute best.

As for Pietro and Peter, they arrived not too long after me, Wanda, Natasha and Loki made camp in the biggest room with the most amount of natural light, surrounded by make-up and other assorted tools. Both boys were bickering but it was obvious that some of the older men had gotten on their nerves, forcing the youngsters seek solace with their peers.

"You know, Vanity Fair better be talking about us for at least a week," I grouched as Wanda helped me into my dress before I returned the favour. "The amount of people I had to actually, physically talk to, to get us these fucking gowns, is frankly disgusting."

"Agreed," Loki admired herself in the mirror, smoothing out invisible creases in her gown. "Although I must say, the dressmakers on Midgard are far more patient and open-minded than on Asgard." Truly, Loki had nearly driven the poor lady crazy. But on the upside, Loki looked like a living doll. Pristine, perfect.

"Our whims are their wages," Natasha piped up with a chuckle.

We stepped out into the main room, taking note of the men scattered on the couches, all of them wearing an almost identical expression of being already done with the formal event - which, I didn't blame them. Having gotten used to the informal, communal-living atmosphere, I wasn't overly keen on being surrounded by random rich douchebags either; as it was unavoidable, I was going to be miserable - but at least I was going to be miserable in style.

Predictably, the menfolk froze and hurried to pelt us with compliments as they surveyed our ensemble - all of our dresses had a distinct vibe despite carrying a sense of individuality to each gown. That was my idea, actually, to present the team as a family - both to satisfy my own need for one and to present a good public image for the press. Call it getting good cookie from the public - in advance.

"Stunning, absolutely beautiful," Tony chastely kissed my cheek, leading my by the arm towards the limo, Stephen and Bruce a pace behind us. "I'm the luckiest man in the world."

"We are," Bruce corrected him mutely. Stephen's smirk was a mile wide. "It'll be hard to keep my hands to myself for four hours but I'll manage," The scientist added, eyes briefly flashing a fluorescent green.

"There are children here," Peter interjected, nervously waving a hand. I gently elbowed Tony, speaking with my eyes rather than words, that Pete was in dire need of emotional support for his first big public event. With a sigh, the engineer relocated to sit next to the spider boy, both of them talking in hushed tones.

"Now, Bruce," I smiled innocently. "Why would I refuse a dance or five to my favourite lab partner in crime?" I winked at him as giggles erupted all around us. "And I'm sure there's a point somewhere about wizards sweeping princesses off their feet," I kept up the banter in hopes that any remaining tension would evaporate before we arrive to the venue.

I, however, couldn't lose all of it for we were absolutely assaulted by the photographers and press as we arrived to the red carpet; it was only sheer luck that me and Wanda didn't stumble ass over heels out of the limo. That luck's name was Loki: her magic delicately helped us to exit the car with grace despite our large gowns. Mental note to buy Loki all the chocolate: add to priority list.

It went about as good as it could. Peter was introduced as a trainee - and nearly had an aneurysm when Tony none-too-kindly corrected the host, calling Peter his protégée and successor. As for little old me? Rising star of biochemical engineering. No titles, no direct titles, but it was heavily implied we were involved.

I could fell the old, white rich men leering at me despite the layers of silk and tulle. Nobody was commenting on my champagne intake so I downed one after the other until I had a comfortable buzz going on. I could absolutely see why female scientists became either reclusive or brash.

Bruce's eyes followed me wherever I went. I had encountered some people I vaguely knew from all the socialite events I had to attend with my mother, so it wasn't as if I was a fish out of the water; it's just that every time I strayed further than ten feet from out group, I instantly grew a tail in the form of one of the Avengers.

"Sam, quit being creepy," I exited the ladies room, immediately spying the handsome man just 'casually' hanging out by a potted plant, glued to his smartphone and pretending to be very busy.

He looked up guiltily, shutting down Minesweeper and pocketing the phone. "Not taking any risks this time 'round, Princess," He offered me his arm, leading us back to our table. "Tony would have my head."

I rolled my eyes, falling into the chair next to Stephen. "My tracker implant is still in and the bracelets Natasha loaned me are actually tasers. Bird, chill," My hand snuck under the tablecloth, blindly groping for Stephen's hand. It didn't take much time for him to respond, cradling my smaller palm in his larger one, offering the small comfort with a tiny tilt to his lips. Both my large skirt and the fabric covering the table aided the secrecy; I felt like a middle schooler sneaking a kiss from my first crush behind the bleachers.

Coupled with the bubbles in my champagne, it made me giddy.

"Sam is just being careful, Princess," Stephen rumbled patiently. "This ball will be over soon."

I snorted, "But Stephen, I love balls," Causing the whole table erupt in bashful snickers.

"Yeah, think to me about it," Wanda downed the remnants of her wine glass, eyes wide, looking to the side. The giggling became a full belly-laugh as I didn't have the decency to play coy. I just smirked because, yeah, I did love me some...

The final hour dragged on forever. My feet hurt from the dancing. I had my suspicions that time would pass faster if I actually move around so I didn't waste the chance and cajoled Bruce into several slow dances with me. The energy between us was electric; I hoped my wife eyes and the red crawling up his neck would be attributed to alcohol. We spoke in hushed tones, about nothing in particular, the words being like sticks we threw into our fire.

Tony wasn't around much, way too busy to do much more than stop by our table every now and then. I both envied and admired him; he handled everything with grace and serendipity. Tony was right there next to Thor and Loki - literal royalty - and I had to pinch myself to prevent myself from ogling him, sighing in lovesickness every goddamn minute.

"If you ever stop looking at him like that, I don't think he'll survive," Stephen's tone was cheeky; his eyes were intense as he looked down at me as we danced. My sorcerer was rarely sappy, but when he found the words to describe his feelings... It was serious.

I met his eyes slowly, letting him soak in the very same admiration and awe I felt when I was with him. I felt his shudder, I heard the hitch in his breath. He wasn't jealous, no, he simply observed. I wanted him to see what I saw. "The day that I stop looking at you all like that is the day that I need to get my head screwed on straight." I wasn't a poet but neither was this a romance novel. "As far as I'm concerned, I won the lottery, the grand prize and the fucking life."

He chuckled. "You have way too much faith in us, Princess," Twirling me as to avoid the out of habit embrace.

Did I, though? I was inclined to disagree. Sure, we had our spits and arguments and sometimes Stephen would stick his cold ass feet under my blankets, Bruce's love for curry was a crime against anyone who slept in the same room as he and Tony routinely flirted with everyone and everything that had a pulse. I had days where my mother's temper surfaced.

Sometimes, one of us would inadvertently hog the other person and the remaining two would pout, roll their eyes or pitch a fit.

I just didn't see it as a big deal. All of those parts were normal - what couldn't be said about the rest of our situation. Compared to couples I've seen around, I thought we're happy. My boyfriends seemed to be happy, too, and if they weren't, it usually was pretty obvious.

So - okay, perhaps we definitely should be working on verbalizing our feelings. That would definitely solve if not world hunger, then at least the world war three that occasionally erupted in Tony's penthouse. And the ups and downs - not the steep kind, but ones not too different from waves rolling ashore - was what held us together. Because, well, our world was hectic and fast-paced and sometimes we needed that gentle rocking motion to sway us back to peace.

Tony's arm on my waist pulled me back to reality, steering me towards the balcony. Bruce and Stephen followed, all four of us power-walking through the inebriated crowd.

"Just so you know, I'm on board with whatever crazy shit you're planning," Stephen raised a palm towards a smirking Tony.

His mouth immediately dropped into a pout I could barely resist kissing. "But... I had a whole speech prepared," The engineer retorted indignantly, discreetly attempting to swat the sorcerer on the ass.

"And I'm sure it was amazing, honey," Bruce placated the upset Tony with a laugh, causing the latter to intensify his pout, eyeing us with mirth over the rim of his glasses, his stupid, lovely face more kissable than ever.

@another-stark-sub @mostly-marvel-musings  @vozit @littlegasps @pilloclock @shereadsinquiet @downeyreads @hermione-grangers-wife @individualistfem @sleep-i-ness @capbrie @lillsxd @agustdowney @dee-vn @justanotherblonde23 @fanngirl19 @persephonehemingway @softie-socks @schemefrenzy @letsby @romeo-the-cactus @jelly-fishy-babie @mikariell95 @gladiosamicitias @warrior1-19 @toomanyrobins

[anika-ann]

Stockings (S.R.)

Type:  Modern-college-professor AU - part of Attached series or a standalone

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader   Word count: 3000

Summary: You just wanted to decorate the apartment for a bit, you swear.

It wasn’t your fault that it was impossible to stay with your mind out of the gutter for longer than five minutes whenever Steve was around.

A/N: No knowledge of Attached needed I think 😉 Feel free to read as a standalone, you’ll find it in my masterlist as both.

A/N 2: For @wonderlandmind4​ ‘s challenge. Congrats on your follower count and for coming up with this awesome challenge!

Prompt: “Those - weren’t the kind of stockings I had in mind-“ (bold in text)

Warnings: suggestive themes, implied smut with tiny bit of action so 18+, nsfw, language (always), and one (1) trope that has definitely been used before

Series masterlist

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When the idea of decorating first flashed through your mind, it was, honest to God, completely innocent.

Due to loads of schoolwork, Halloween somehow passed by and you barely noticed, the most festive thing you had done being the indulgent orders of pumpkin spiced lattés and hogging some of the candy for your exam time stress-eating. Candy which just happened to be shaped like spiders, snakes, witches and other lovely stuff.

But that was it and with ditching the spooky holiday and the Thanksgiving which no one in your apartment was allowed to talk about, you itched to celebrate at least one of the holidays in peace and with everything that belonged with it.

Gifts, obviously.

Baking, perhaps.

Decorations, absolutely.

Last year, you and Penny had gone a bit overboard, fully affected by the holiday madness, and bought half the store (well, as much as your financial situation allowed anyway). Your dorm room looked as if Santa puked there, as Penny elaborately put it, but you both adored it.

Now, with Steve, you knew you had to be considerably more restrained.

Not that he would notice if your apartment turned into a damn Santa village, because he was too preoccupied with grading midterm papers. Non-stop, it seemed. The pile never ever appeared to be reducing.

However, you and Steve had set a rule that even if you were both crazy busy, you’d make time for at least one or two evenings together – simply to take few moments to fully appreciate each other’s company.

That night, Steve’s mind wandered despite trying to stay focused on you, you could tell. You felt for him, you truly did… but you missed him. Your time together, truly together, became so rare lately and--- you didn’t want to end up like the couple that kisses goodnight and good-morning just because they share quarters and a bed, and ignores one another for the rest of the day.

Rather than letting the gloomy thoughts consume you though, you tried a different approach; humour.

After all, that was how your relationship had started, along with loads of awkwardness.

“Penny says hi, by the way,” you said casually, practically feeling Steve’s absence despite his body engulfing you as you cuddled on the couch, movie on your laptop playing in the background which neither of you were watching.

Steve hummed, his fingers never ceasing the comforting strokes on your arm.

You adored him, you did – which really was the reason why you couldn’t but mess with him, tease him for his mental trip to the far-away lands.

“She and Bucky hooked up again.”

“Mm.”

“She still claims he was the best she ever had.”

“Oh, that’s interesting,” Steve muttered, almost as if he was actually listening to you.

“I’m meeting them tomorrow both, because they offered me a threesome.”

“That’s nice.”

The corners of your lips twitched. God, Steve was lucky to have you to take his mind off his job sometimes, otherwise he would work himself into the ground with how much of his brain space was filled with university matters. He was so detached from life sometimes…

“Bucky asked if he could film it, do you think I should say yes?”

“Whatever you think—wait WHAT?!” he cried out, sitting up straight, hence pushing you up too since you had been nestled on his chest.

Giggles erupted from your throat as you watched his perplexed and scandalized face, realization slowly dawning on him as he probably went over the last few sentences that left your mouth – and his expression gradually melted into an apologetic one, blending into exhaustion as he ran his hand down his face.

You cupped his cheeks then, leaning in to plant a kiss on his forehead – you would swear it was a fraction hotter than normal, his poor brain overheating – and stifled the aww threatening to spill when Steve closed his eyes contentedly, a hum vibrating in his chest.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he whispered, kissing your lips chastely before wrapping his arms around you to hold you close again, face nuzzling your hair. “I’m listening now.”

You curled into his warmth, much more welcoming than the comforter wrapped around you.

“It’s okay, Stevie. I know you’re tired. We’ll just call it a night.”

“But you wanted to talk about something?” he protested softly, earning a hum in affirmation.

“Just wanted to ask if you’d be okay with me decorating the apartment? Just a bit, to bring a piece of the Christmas spirit in here?”

You could feel his smile against your scalp as his thumb caressed your shoulders blades, his large form shifting for a bit.

“We both live here, sweetheart,” he reminded you and you made a tiny sound of protest. Yes, he was correct, but that didn’t mean you wouldn’t consult him on stuff before messing with the interior, even if it was with the best intentions. Duh. “But I appreciate you asking. Decorations, huh?”

You withdrew, meeting his tired eyes with a barely-there twinkle. You smiled at up at him innocently, showing him a tiny space between your thumb and index finger.

“Just a little bit. Just the basics…”

“Uh-huh. The basics. So that’s what? Christmas lights, stockings, mistletoe, a tree?” he mused, his thumb moving to your chin, to your lower lip, brushing it tenderly as you nodded minutely with a smile. His irises lit up a fraction with that image he must have painted in his mind and you felt familiar warmth around your heart at the sight. “I guess we’ll have to talk about getting a tree then. But it sounds nice, babygirl. The mistletoe in particular.”

He proceeded to capture that lips with his, lazy but indulgent kiss that sent pleasant sparkles down your spine and yet made you sleepy as it was soothing, feeling like home.

“Yeah. Sounds nice,” you echoed dreamily, meeting his lips again in a short kiss before nudging him to stand up so you could begin to move to bed.

Only later it occurred to you just how nice you could do with the stuff Steve had mentioned if you tried – and you fell asleep in his arms, a menacing grin that would make Grinch green with envy on your lips.

⊱-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦ ✉ ◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-⊰

Carrying the box after hanging one mistletoe branchlet in the kitchen along with very few fairy lights in the window, you were ready to move onto the bedroom, where Steve was, again, working.

Not for long, you hoped – after all, you put notable effort into your appearance.

With a small smirk on your lips, you knocked on the separating wall, peeking from behind it, trying your best not reveal too much.

Steve didn’t even bother looking up, a semi-loud hum the only sign of him acknowledging your presence.

“I’m gonna decorate this room… you mind me messing around for a bit?” you asked, attempting to sound compassionate about his workload, which you were, and perfectly innocent, which you were not.

That got him eye you briefly, an unconvincing smile passing his lips.

“Sure, go ahead,” he encouraged you softly. He turned his gaze back to the papers on his desk and started writing notes before you could even respond – hence missing your victorious smile.

“Thanks!”

You gleefully walked in, steps soundless against the floor thanks to the thin fabric covering your soles, and placed the box on your own desk.

The rustle of papers and the sudden lack of scribbling sound had you biting your cheek so you wouldn’t burst out laughing.

Steve cleared his throat loudly; when you looked at him over your shoulder however, he went back to reading his damn papers.

You swallowed your disappointment, trying not to think much of it – Steve could be very patient when he wanted to be – or very impulsive. And sometimes, he was both at the same time.

So you pressed your lips together and removed the other branchlet of mistletoe from the top of the box, following with Christmas lights, putting whatever you needed on the desk.

“Sweetheart…” Steve’s voice sounded from his seat, partly amused, partly… hoarse, affected, and you had to bite your lips so the giggles wouldn’t spill out. “What are you wearing?”

You turned to him, making a show of checking your outfit, letting your palms sprawl over your barely covered thighs and slowly moving them up, the hem of Steve’s loose ivory sweater hiking up an inch and revealing the lace of your thigh-high crimson stockings; perhaps even offering a peek of the straps holding them in place due to the garter belt.

“Your old sweater… and stockings,” you offered with a one-shoulder shrug, cool as cucumber in December – or as yourself teasing your loveable boyfriend at the end of November – on the outside, giddy on the inside as his gaze trailed all over your figure, wavering at the lace and the patch of skin on display, before focusing on your face.

“Those-- those weren’t the kind of stockings I had in mind-- when I, uhm, talked about decorating this place,” he explained.

He sounded almost patient, as if it wasn’t clear as day. His irises, however, were not clear – a cloud of desire covered them, turning them a shade darker, hungrier.

It sent a pleasant shiver up your spine, heat pooling in your belly, satisfaction at inching closer to your goal causing your chest nearly puff with pride.

“Oh, my bad!” you exclaimed, chuckling self-depreciatingly, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear as you eyed Steve from under your eyelashes, picture perfect of innocence… not. “Silly me! I’m sorry, I know how much you hate me in stockings…”

“Babygirl…”

His voice resembled a growl, a low warning not to toy with him – which was exactly what you did want to do, teasing him shamelessly when having added emphasis on him not liking your attire.

Stockings and/or his clothes on you got your boyfriend going in fact, sometimes for hours even, thank you very much.

“Yes, Steve?”

“This isn’t going to work, you know. I really have to finish these,” he stated and you most definitely didn’t imagine the impatience and his dislike towards his task sneaking into his voice.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. These are just…” you bit gently on your lower lip, sliding your palms up and down your thighs, Steve’s gaze following the motion instinctively, pupils dilating with the craving to replace your hands with his own, “…comfy, just like your sweater. You never minded when I borrowed it before—you know I love stealing it. It just… it smells like you and it’s warm. It’s like you’re all over me. It’s perfect.”

His glare zeroed on your mouth, slightly accented by a natural, yet visible shade of your lipstick. Steve didn’t say a word, simply staring – and shifting slightly in his seat, much to your glee, which hopefully didn’t show too much – and grumbling an unidentifiable noise.

You felt for him, you truly did – god knew that sometimes, you were overwhelmed with schoolwork too – but that didn’t stop you from smiling at him sweetly now, adding an apologetic tone to your next words.

“Sorry. I talk too much. Don’t let me disturb you. You have work to do and so do I. I’ll be as quiet as a mouse.”

Then you spun on your heels and went back to continue your previous activity, laying out decorations on your desk.

Steve only grunted behind you, but you could hear him as he started going through the papers again, probably trying – and hopefully failing – to ignore your presence.

It wasn’t that you wanted to be mean, there was no single drop of malice in your plan; Steve needed to get his head off his work for a bit, even if he wasn’t aware of it. The way he was overworking himself was beginning to threaten to his sanity.

You simply wanted to help and this was just the way that had crossed your mind first; it was entirely on Steve and his stupidly perfect everything that you couldn’t seem to get your head out of the gutter sometimes when in his presence.

You wished nothing more than for him to turn off his brain… and to relax and enjoy himself.

Clearly, he was enjoying the view indeed.

You caught his sharp inhale when you accidentally dropped a tacky plastic Santa and proceeded to bend over to pick it up… offering Steve a perfect view of your rear and revealing the smart garter belt you wore; with nothing as much as a thong, leaving your most intimate areas bare.

You heard him shuffling in the chair and had to smirk, mentally counting down the time until his resolve broke.

He was holding up quite bravely – nearly long enough to make you doubt your ability to seduce him. Except the shuffle of papers that followed sounded as if he was trying to make a point and you knew that the breaking point was on horizon.

So when the time came to set in motion what you assumed would be the final strike – pushing the chair from your desk to the middle of the room to get ready to put your stockings on display right in his natural line of vision – you delicately took the branchlet of mistletoe with you, climbing up and carefully tying it to the lamp.

Steve’s pen hit the desk with a click and you quickly shot him a glance, meeting his stern and yet rather amused eyes. He sighed at your ridiculously unsubtle antics, but one corner of his lips rose anyway.

“Alright, that’s it. Get down here, you little minx,” he huffed.

Oh, sweet victory.

Mirroring his expression, you retorted cheekily: “Come get me.”

There was no missing the dangerous glint in is eye as he rose to his feet and stalked to your chair, a smirk playing on his lips, every movement purposeful and precise as if he was a predator chasing his prey to the corner.

Your breathing picked up as he neared, your heart pounding, chest heaving quickly – fuck, wasn’t it an erotic sight, Steve’s figure cladded in plain t-shirt and sweats, looking up at you as if he was about to eat you alive.

Maybe it was the expression on his face, somewhere between aroused, amused, cocky and predatory at the same time. Maybe it was the outline of his semi-hard dick on his sweatpants. But shit, you knew you were in trouble, you loved it, and you might have been this close to drooling. You were glad for forgoing underwear, because it would be absolutely useless and soaked through in an instant.

And Steve hadn’t even started yet.

Stopping right in front of you, craning his neck only a bit to face you (the tall bastard), his wide palms sprawled over your calves, their heat warming you from inside out.  

An appreciative hum rumbled in his chest as his touch trailed up at torturously slow pace, drinking in the sight of your ragged breaths, indulging in every inch he laid his hands on. You couldn’t withhold the shudder running through your whole body and his grin widened.

“You’re such a fucking tease….” he whispered, licking his lips as his gaze fell lower again, following the movements of his hands, clasping the back of your thighs now, inching toward their inner part, fingers brushing the hem of your stockings.

“Is it-“ You had to clear your throat against the lump that grew there, your body buzzing with anticipation, the smart remark growing heavy on your tongue. “Is it teasing when you can just take what you want?”

He chuckled, a delicious dark sound, bringing more slickness between your legs, much to his apparent satisfaction as he set eyes on his prize.

“Downright naughty…”

His mouth landed softly on the inside of your right calf, his fingers digging into the flesh of your thighs to nudge them few inches apart to make space for him.

“Does that… uhm, does that mean I won’t be getting any presents from Santa this year?”

You had genuinely no clue how you managed to form a sentence through the fog of arousal around your brain, only growing thicker when Steve’s teeth grazed the skin above your knee, his fingertips brushing an extremely sensitive spot so close to your core.

“You could come down now, be a very good girl and I might put in a good word for you,” he muttered, biting down some more, drawing a mewl from your lips, another one escaping you when he snapped one of the strings holding your stockings in place.

The sharp gentle pain was enough to make words roll off your tongue.

“You think that would work?”

“Oh sweetheart…” Steve chuckled again, a huff of breath warming your thighs, before his eyes, wide-blown and hungry, met yours. “If it doesn’t… you can be damn sure I’m gonna give you fucking everything I have.”

You yelped when his grip on the back of your thighs tightened and he tugged you forward, your hands instantly going to his shoulders to maintain balance as you found yourself with no surface under your feet all of sudden.

He grinned up at you – the show-off, but by God, wasn’t the demonstration of strength setting your body on fire, rendering you speechless – and slowly lowered you to the ground, half-lidded eyes zeroed on your lips. He made damn sure that you felt his erection against your body at all time as he always loosened his grip and tightened it a second later, until your feet touched the ground – and yet you felt your legs shaking, unsteady with the need to feel more of him.

It dawned to you how crazy he managed to drive you, your roles reversed, your plan backfiring. But was it? Backfiring? Because you couldn’t wait to see how it would unfold--

His hands slipped under the sweater you stole from him, one grasping your hip to hold you tight against his body, fingers of the other diving into the pool of slick between your legs, causing you to jerk forward into his hand.

He leaned down to nip at the skin of your neck right under your ear, forefinger circling your clit for a good measure, drawing a needy moan from you.

“And I bet you’re gonna take it…” he hummed into your ear, satisfied smile audible in his hoarse voice, “and thank me for it like the good girl you are.”

You barely forced the words out, heavy with desire but any less true.

“Yes, Professor Rogers. I think I will.”

“Damn right.”

⊱-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦ ✉ ◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-⊰

S.R. masterlist

Attached masterlist

The One Word (next in timeline)

⊱-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦ ✉ ◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-⊰

I really wanted to come up with an original title… and failed. Also, it was supposed to be a drabble, but you know that I tend to babble… and rhyme, apparently.

Thank you for reading and for any kind of feedback :-*

[holycatsandrabbits]

Love’s Endless Light: A Good Omens serial romance

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Chapter 8: One in Hope of Heaven’s Blessing

1863, Gettysburg, Pennsylvania, United States

Crowley had never thought it would really come to this. But Crowley had thought a lot of things that had turned out to be wrong.

The way Aziraphale looked at him sometimes— with heavy hunger, with sweet affection, with absolute misery— Crowley looked at Aziraphale exactly the same way. For Crowley, it was love. And so why shouldn't it have been love for Aziraphale? Crowley had thought it was.

He’d learned how wrong he was a year ago in St. James Park, when he’d come to Aziraphale with a plan of protection. They were together, as friends, as more than friends, as close as they could be without being blatant about it. No actual kissing, of course, or speaking of love. No touching. But Crowley could accept that. It was more than he thought he’d ever get.

But of course, even that level of closeness wasn’t safe. Yet when Crowley had asked Aziraphale to set in motion the first part of Crowley’s plan of defense by getting him holy water— Aziraphale had come apart.

Crowley had never seen Aziraphale so terrified, or so angry. Aziraphale had made a practice of saying a lot of things that he thought an angel should say: calling Crowley a demon, Fallen, reminding him they were hereditary enemies. But he’d never spoken of their relationship like that, their friendship. Calling it fraternizing, when Crowley had been calling Aziraphale his best friend for centuries.

Over the last six millennia, they’d argued nearly every time they’d met, but they’d never actually fought. Crowley hadn’t ever thought they would. And yet here was Aziraphale right now standing in a foggy field, with the American Civil War going on all around them, looking lost, and worse— looking like he’d rather be lost than ask Crowley for help. Crowley had the sinking feeling that they were going to be just one more battle on this field today.

“My assignment is in the tent over there,” Aziraphale said, pointing to where the pale canvas of a human dwelling rose up out of the mist. The human war was so close that they could hear rifle fire and screaming, and the fog was partly made up of the smoke from cooking fires and cannons.

“Mine too,” Crowley said. “Have to tempt General Lee to—” He stopped, unsure of whether he should tell his enemy his orders.

Aziraphale looked at his feet. He was in pale clothes as usual, and Crowley thought that if humans saw him in this place of death, they’d take him for a wraith. “Yes, well,” the angel said. “I think we can assume that my assignment is to sway him in the opposite direction.”

“Probably.”

If the Arrangement was still in effect, this would normally be the point at which they’d laugh, because neither of them was in the habit of doing the work anymore if they’d only cancel each other out. They’d write up reports and then spend the evening together, drinking wine and reminiscing and bickering. In this case, though, the assignment was a little more complicated.

“Listen,” Crowley said, “I”m not the only agent they sent. There are demons all over here. You need to go.”

It nearly cut Crowley in two to see Aziraphale look at him with suspicion. How many thousands of years had it been since he’d seen his eyes narrow like that? “Are there?” Aziraphale asked.

“When,” Crowley spat, “was the last time I lied to you?”

Aziraphale at least looked remorseful. “I can’t go,” he said. “I have my assignment.”

“Our orders will cancel out. I just need to put in an appearance—”

“I can handle demons,” Aziraphale said darkly. “And we both know it.”

“Right. Demons like me.”

And so there they were. Crowley didn’t take his eyes off Aziraphale, watching him look indignant and anxious, and knowing it was all about to get far worse. Under his breath, Crowley mumbled a few words, while he waved one hand in a specific gesture.

Aziraphale felt the effects of it immediately, Crowley could see that. But the angel kept mostly calm, just looking down, where there was now a harsh red line burned into the grass between them, one that an angel could not cross. “Crowley,” he whispered. In six thousand years, he’d never said his name quite like that.

“For your own good,” Crowley told him, around the nausea rising up in him.

“This is against the Arrangement.” Aziraphale still sounded so impassive, but Crowley could see wetness in his eyes.

“I wasn’t the one who broke it first. You refused to lend me a hand when I asked you to. Now stop arguing. There are a lot of demons in that tent and you’d be at risk there.”

“You could be too!”

Crowley shrugged. “If you want to protect me so badly, give me something I can use against them.”

“Crowley, do you understand how dangerous— they used holy water in the War in Heaven to kill demons!”

“Yes, I’m aware, that’s the whole point! But you don’t trust me to know what I need for protection. So fine, then, I’m going to make decisions about your safety for you too.”

“Crowley, God damn it!” Aziraphale’s face flushed red. “Let me through. Now.”

Crowley waved his hand to dissolve the spell. Aziraphale at least didn’t look surprised to have his request honored.

“Go on then,” Aziraphale growled. “I’ll wait here. If you’re not back in ten minutes—”

Crowley nodded. When he did return, Aziraphale looked relieved. And quietly heartbroken.

“I didn’t do my assignment,” Crowley told him. “So you can tell Heaven you did yours, and they canceled out.”

Aziraphale was looking down again at the line that had been burned in the grass. “I’m not sure there’s much use to our meeting anymore,” he said. “Without the Arrangement, I mean.”

“There’s not,” Crowley said, and the words were bitterly cold in his mouth.

“Be safe,” Aziraphale whispered, and then he snapped his fingers and was gone. Crowley stood in the field by himself until night fell.

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Updates Fridays on Ao3 and Tumblr.

Want to create fic, art, or other works based on this series? Please do! Just dm or tag me.

Coming August 20: "Tollense," my next serial romance. A history professor falls in love with his best friend, a 3000-year-old vampire.

My previous Good Omens serial: Mr. Fell’s Bookshop

My Carrd

*********

Image text: Love’s Endless Light by Dannye Chase (HolyCatsAndRabbits) Chapter 8

As Aziraphale and Crowley slowly fall in love over the millennia, Crowley discovers that Aziraphale is keeping a very dangerous secret.

[rosethornewrites]

Tuesday & Wednesday T & G reading

The usual

Finished

Teen:

Honesty is the Best Policy (But it Scares the Living Hell Out of Me), by Elpie (Horribibble)

The rules are clear, and also written directly onto the cliff face.

You genuinely cannot miss them.

So Wangji says, “You are the most beautiful person I have ever seen, but I am required to punish you.”

And then realizes exactly what it is that seems to have gone wrong.

-

Or right, when you consider the cosmic implications of running into your soulmate at sixteen years old and immediately threatening to have them spanked for breaking the rules.

(An AU in which you cannot lie in the presence of your soulmate. And this may or may not give Wei Ying hives.)

Paper, String, and Beads, by Lilypad_Frog (3 chapters)

The Wall of Discipline has many rules against luxuries and taking excessive pride in appearance, but it also has regulations mandating their forehead ribbons and robes, even allowing for discrete adornments to denote their position within the sect.

General:

Inquiry, by incendir (2 chapters)

Sizhui cannot fall asleep for a long, long time that night. He hears the ever-familiar melody again. He thinks perhaps he has memorized it by now.

Becoming A Demon And Staying Kind Despite It, by Girl_behind_Books

The life of trans!wwx

the good rain knows its season, by theLoyalRoyalGuard

It’s a cool, rainy day in Yunmeng.

Even in the rain, Wei Ying insists on swimming.

Unfinished

Teen:

You Are Of Their Ilk, by Eleanor_Fenyx (2nd in a series)

Lan Qiren and his nephews have successfully rescued 7-year-old Wei Ying from homelessness on the streets of Yunmeng, and he's overjoyed to finally have a home to go to. He knows - because Master Lan has told him - that the Cloud Recesses have a lot of rules and he might find it hard to live there at first, but he's hopeful that he has finally found where he belongs. They don't really expect him to follow all 3000 rules...right?

//

Wei Ying blinks hard against the characters swimming in front of his eyes. They steady for a moment, some unknown scribe’s clear, graceful lines sharpening briefly before they go all blurry again with a fresh round of tears. Wei Ying presses his lips together and continues copying anyway - he doesn’t have all the rules memorized of course, he’s not Lan Zhan, but this section is, unfortunately, one he’s familiar with.

Running is forbidden.

Causing noise is forbidden.

Sitting improperly is forbidden.

Do not stand incorrectly.

Do not smile foolishly.

Do not use frivolous words.

Do not exult in excess.

Do not laugh for no reason.

He doesn’t need to see them clearly to write them.

One Summer's Day, by slex (slexenskee) (2nd in a series)

Thirteen years after he sealed the Burial Mounds, The Yiling Patriarch opens up his elusive and mysterious Yiling Wei Sect to its very first Discussion Conference. This is most unfortunate for Jin Guangyao, who has a secret he needs to come clean with that he'd wanted to keep hidden in those mists forever.

What he would do to have another chance to see him again. Just like that sparkling, ephemeral afternoon in the Yiling tea shop, this time with Wei Ying held tightly to his side, A-Yuan and a boy— or girl— with his eyes and Wei Ying's smile next to them. He knew it was nothing but a fanciful daydream; no one has come in or out of the Burial Mounds in nearing two decades. There will never be another chance meeting of fate between them, no matter how pleasantly parallel it might seem.

Still, he has an odd feeling about it all. As if maybe this time would be different.

Here With Me, by iamwish

Wen Qing finds him on the roof of where he’s been staying, nursing a jar of Sishu’s wine.

“Wei Wuxian! What are you doing up there?”

Wei Wuxian hasn’t had nearly enough wine to get tipsy, let alone drunk enough for his words to slur, but he slurs them anyway for nostalgia. “What if Lan Zhan doesn’t fall in love with me?”

-

Wei Wuxian finds himself in the past, a few months before the Gusu Lan lectures, and decides that his best shot at hiding his trauma fixing the future is faking his own kidnapping and asking Wen Qing who all he needs to kill before she or someone she trusts is in charge of QishanWen. Clearly, he thought this through.

Or: Wei Wuxian creates a No War!AU, and then he has to live in it.

General:

Lies and Truth, by parodismal

What happen if Lan Wangji decided to actually check Qiongqi Path after Wei Wuxian leave?

....

It leads to a domino effect towards a new Chief Cultivator

Is it a better?

Or worse?

Cabbages, by dreaming of your qin (sherleigh)

In which Lan Qiren gains a son-in-law.

[demisexualemmaswan]

heal over (1/1)

Summary: "Her heart seemed to slam against her chest as if trying to escape. The world tunneled in around her and she could barely draw breath." Cassandra has a panic attack and doubts her ability to recover after all she's been through. Her family certainly has no doubts on the matter and is more than happy to help her through it while she catches up.  A/N: Hi! This is my first piece of Critical Role fanfiction! I initially had this idea about Percy and Cassandra talking bout like...Cassandra caring for baby Vesper if anything happened to him and Vex and I started this piece with that in mind, and then Cass had a panic attack and 3000 words later I ended up here and very far away from my original idea. But I will be definitely writing that one if we enjoy this one. Thanks for reading! 

[Read on Ao3]

It had become a ritual at night, to seek out her brother and his wife before she laid down in bed. For whatever reason, it had helped Cassandra to check on her family to know that they were still there, and they hadn’t taken off, that they hadn’t died yet again… Tears stinging her eyes as she inexplicably remembered her brother needing to be resurrected, Cassandra sped to the room her brother and sister-in-law. His screams still rung in her ears from being tortured by Ripley, and her breaths quickened.

The door was open, which means that they wouldn’t mind company, which gave her some relief. Her brother had promised to take care of her, promised to help her, and she trusted him implicitly. He understood the darkness, the hurt that came with everything that had happened. He had seen the darkness inside himself, fought it and won.

And it gave her some hope that she was not as irredeemable as she’d feared. After all, she’d nearly betrayed him and still he loved her as fiercely as he loved. Percy had always loved a little recklessly, in the sense that he used that weapon of his. His confidence, his faith in his skills—or in this case the love in his life—always allowed him to be a little reckless.

And he had died several times because of it.

What if he’s gone now? What if he’s left you all alone, to the cruelty of the world again? a cruel voice sounded in her mind, sounded too much like Delilah Briarwood. Clinging to the doorframe, she all but swung into their room, unable to hold back the wild look in her eyes. Vex’ahlia was curled up by the fire, curled up with Trinket. Her hands gently stroked the small swell of her stomach, a small smile gracing her lips. Logically, Cassandra knew that if Vex was smiling so calmly that there was no reason for anything to be wrong. But Percy was nowhere to be found.

And her fear seemed to kick into overdrive. Her heart seemed to slam against her chest as if trying to escape. The world tunneled in around her and she could barely draw breath. “Where’s Percy?” Oh, Pelor help her…why was her voice shaking so badly? Were her hands still shaking? “Vex…where’s Percy?” The world seemed to narrow even further in around her.

Oh gods, was Percy gone? Had she lost another family member?

The bear looked up and made a curious noise, drawing Vex’s attention to Cassandra. “Darling?” she asked worriedly. “Are you all right?” Before Cassandra could draw another breath, Vex was on her feet and approaching her. “Cassandra, darling?” Vex coaxed gently. “Can I hold your hands?”

Vex was tactile. Vex liked to touch. Vex’s touch was friendly.

The touch was something Cassandra was getting used to, but she knew wouldn’t hurt. Not like the Briarwood’s.

Pursing her lips together, Cassandra nodded. Vex immediately threaded their fingers and gave them a gentle squeeze. “Breathe in,” Vex commanded softly on the squeeze. “You’re all right. You’re safe here. I’ve got you.”

 Cassandra, tears running down her cheeks, breathed in. If her brother wasn’t there to catch her, Vex—her sister—could be counted on to catch her. She gave Vex the tiniest of nods to show that she was there, fighting to come back.

Vex squeezed again, still gentle and warm and encouraging. “Breathe out.” Cassandra breathed out. The tremors in her hands were still so strong but Vex was here. Vex would make it all right. The world was coming more into focus bit by bit.

“Good. You’re doing so well,” Vex praised warmly, giving Cassandra the warmest and gentlest of smiles. “I’m going to keep squeezing. You breathe in on the first squeeze. Breathe out on the second squeeze. Can you do that for me?”

Cassandra nodded, still lost for words for the moment. Her lip still trembled as she couldn’t find Percy, was he safe, oh god did the Briarwoods—

“It’s all right,” Vex murmured, bringing Cassandra back in the moment. “The Briarwoods are gone and can’t hurt you. Vecna is gone and can’t hurt you. You’re safe. I’m safe. Percival is safe.” Her thumbs gently stroked Cassandra’s hands. “Your niece is safe.”

Cassandra’s eyes widened. The prospect of life in the castle, in their lives, took her breath away, but not in a way that was frightening or overwhelming. “Niece?” she choked out, her eyes filling with happy tears this time. “I… are you sure? Does Percy know?” Vex’ahlia laughed, a warm sound settling in Cassandra’s chest in a way that opened it, allowing her to breathe easier. “I don’t know for sure,” she admitted, holding onto Vex’s hands tightly still, as if the world could spiral away if she let go. “It’s just a feeling. But I was sitting here thinking of what I wanted to name her just now when you came in…he’s…” The overwhelming affection that Vex had for Percy practically permeated the room as she smiled down at the floor. “He’s taken to calling her his ‘little darling’. So I think he thinks it’s a girl as well.” She squeezed Cassandra’s hands again. “She’s not even born yet and he absolutely dotes on her. I know that your family didn’t hug so much growing up but…I think he’ll be different. My father was not a particularly decent father…at least not to me.”

“But Percy…he’s so committed to being the best he can be. He’s down in his workshop right now. We were talking about the baby, and he was overcome with inspiration and there was something he had to make for her right then and there.” Vex chuckled at Percy’s predictable behavior, her eyes gleamed with the joy that his excitement and eagerness had given her.  

Cassandra was suddenly overcome with the memory of their father, though he was not particularly affectionate, sitting by the fire reading to small children at his feet. An advisor tried to get his attention, but Frederick waved them off.

“It can wait until the children are asleep,” Frederick had insisted.

“Cassandra?” Vex’s voice brought her back to the present yet again. A hand gentle cupped her cheek to brush away a few stray tears that had fallen.

“A girl,” Cassandra whispered breathlessly, meeting Vex’s gaze. “That’s so wonderful, Vex’ahlia.”

It was so wonderful, truly. For the first time, life was returning to Whitestone Castle. There would be laughter, giggling down the hall, sweets and games…

And by god, child, you are so full of anger. And darkness. You’ve hurt Percy. You’ve hurt her. Who’s to say that you won’t hurt the child? You don’t deserve this ending.  A voice that sounded like Sylas’s this time rang through her head, and she shifted nervously from foot to foot, tearing her gaze away from Vex’s.

The Briarwoods were dead, but certainly the memory of them could not be easily buried. She felt like her darkness could corrupt them, the way the Briarwoods had corrupted her. She was so terrified, all the time, of her anger and frustration and how it could ruin the happiness her brother had worked so hard to build for himself.

“I…it’s fine, really,” Cassandra said, even though they both knew she was lying. “I just…don’t feel like I’m worthy of being this happy. That’s all.”

Vex’s eyes flooded with understanding. “Cassandra?” she asked gently. “I’m going to put my hand on your shoulder. And I’m going to walk down with you to Percy’s workshop. Trinket and I won’t let anything hurt you, will we, Trinket?” Trinket let out a grunt of affirmation and gently nuzzled Cassandra’s side.

Cassandra drew into herself, her shoulders coming up in a feeble effort to protect herself. “I don’t think I’ll ever deserve it.”

“I know.” Vex’s voice broke a little bit and her eyes flashed with understanding. “I know and Percival knows.” She squeezed Cassandra’s shoulder. “And we’re here to help you. We both love you…so much more than we can say.” She pulled Cassandra in for the lightest and gentlest of hugs before asking, “Would you like me to bring you to Percy now?” Cassandra could barely speak around the lump in her throat, but she nodded against Vex’s shoulder with her lips pursed together, as if that could keep all of her feelings inside.

Vex pulled back and gently took her hand and began to walk down to Percy’s workshop. The path was familiar to both women, as it was arguably Percy’s favorite place in the entire castle. Even Trinket seemed to have an innate sense of where they were going, expertly maneuvering around the narrower spots in the hallway.

With as much confidence as Cassandra only supposed her sister-in-law could muster, Vex stood in front of the locked door and knocked. “Percival,” she said softly.

She knew her brother dearly loved his wife, but she had not had the benefit of seeing how attuned they were to each other until he flung the door wide open, his eyes wide with his own panic.  His eyes desperately searched Vex, looking for some injury that he could fix. “Is everything all right? You…the baby…?” Vex stepped in closer to her husband and gently wrapped herself around him. She watched as her brother took a deep breath before nuzzling the top of his wife’s head, pulling her tightly against him. It took another nuzzle from Vex for Percy’s shoulders to slump all the way down, and he let her go with a tender look. He gently cupped her face in one hand and she kissed his palm before pressing their foreheads together.

He smiled brightly knowing she was all right and he quickly kissed the tip of her nose, chuckling softly when she giggled.

The effortless way that they communicated and how they were attuned to one another made an ugly feeling creep up inside Cassandra, which almost immediately made her feel guilty.

It’s not fair that she had the bond of a sibling with her own brother, and now your brother, is it? It was like they were there, goading her, feeding her head with lies just like when they paraded her around and insisted, she could be their daughter. But Cassandra knew it was her own thoughts.

It was an awful thing to think, given that Vax had just died. It was an awful thing to think knowing that Vex still had nightmares, still had days where she wept for her brother. It was an awful thing to think, knowing that all Percy wanted was for the loves of his life—Vex, her, and now the baby—to be safe.

Uselessly curling her hands into fists, she tried to stop herself from feeling all together, but a tiny sniffle escaped her. Both Vex and Percy’s heads snapped toward her, and Percy immediately left his wife’s side to stand before his sister. “Cass.”

The gentle lilt of her brother’s voice was encouraging, and she wanted to give into it and let herself be comforted. But also, surely, he would hate her for the ugly thing she had just thought, wouldn’t he? He opened his arms to her. “Cass. It’s all right,” he told her. “Whatever it is you’re thinking, whatever it is you’re feeling…it’s okay. You can tell me if you’d like, if it would help. Or you don’t have to talk either if it would help. But I’m here. Vex is here. Even Trinket is here if that would help.” She was tempted step forward and let her brother comfort her yet again, but the feeling of unworthiness took hold, and so she resorted to anger, trying to push her brother away even though it was the last thing she wanted.

“You’re here until you leave again,” is what she ended up muttering, her shoulders drawn high again, her fists clenched tightly. She grit her teeth, not wanting to start crying again, but feeling like she didn’t really want to be angry at Percy but not knowing what to do with herself and everything she was feeling.  “I’ll just be here in this huge castle by myself with the memory of them and I always feel so alone and defenseless…”

Instead of getting angry at her, which is what she had been kind of been hoping for, Percy looked immediately chagrined. This only amplified the feelings of guilt bubbling up inside her as she looked at her brother.

She was worried about him leaving and hated when he was gone because she never knew if he’d return or not. Most of the time she never resented him for this wanderlust because no matter what he always returned to Whitestone and considered Whitestone—and her—his home.

But she did miss him fiercely when it was gone. It was lonely here.

It was harder to fight the memory of them when he wasn’t here.

“I’m not going to promise I’ll never leave again,” Percy murmured, his arms still open to her. “But I am not going to leave you without tools to fight the memory of them. You are not defenseless. And you are certainly not alone. I love you very much, Cassandra. And even if I’m not here, I am always fighting for you. Fighting with you. And fighting to make sure that Vex and I will both make it back to you.”

A memory of watching her brother stumble through snow and away from her flashed through her mind, and she brought her hand to her mouth to stifle the cry that instinctually escaped her lips.

“Percy…there was so much blood…” “I know.” Percy closed the gap between them immediately, clutching her tightly to his chest and giving the strongest hug that he possibly could. Her whole body relaxed under the deep pressure, and she clung to him tightly, squeezing her eyes shut against the memory. Her breathing was jagged as tried to calm herself down, though the steady thump of Percy’s heart against her ear gave her something to work for.  

His hand seemed to soothingly stroke her back as he tucked her protectively against him. “They’re ugly thoughts,” Cassandra finally admitted to her brother. “Sometimes they’re about the what if…sometimes they’re about me and all the things I don’t like…and sometimes, well…you just saw what sometimes they’re like.” “Well, you are a de Rolo and we are very much alike,” Percy teased her softly, but his voice was heavy. Burying his face against her hair, he admitted, “I know the feelings…all of those feelings quite intimately, Cass. And I would be lying if I said that I don’t experience them too. Because I do. And every time I have one of those thoughts, I make the choice to fight it. My fight isn’t over either.” “But what if I fail?” Cassandra asked quietly. Though this was one of her fears, this time her voice was steady as she shared her burden with her family. “What if I can’t fight the thoughts and the memories? What if I disappoint you both?” “You’ll never disappoint us,” Vex promised, wrapping her arms around both of the de Rolo siblings. “And if you fail to fight the thoughts, come find us. Just like you did today. And we’ll help build up your strength until you’re ready to fight them yourself. And we’re more than happy to fight those worser instincts with you. Goodness knows that we’ve all had our fair share.” Trinket, not wanting to be left out, gently nuzzled Cassandra’s hip. His cold, wet nose brushed along her stomach through her nightgown and Cassandra couldn’t help but let out the smallest of laughs. Laughing felt like such a brave choice, and she let herself hold onto the feeling for just a moment longer. But then her confidence wavered, and she whispered, “What if I’m not as strong as you?” “Nonsense,” Percy refuted immediately, as was his way. “You are…so much stronger than I ever could be, Cassandra. And for us much as you want to make me proud, I can only hope that I will someday be a brother who is worthy of having a sister like you.”

“I’m already worthy of her,” Vex teased, but her voice was a little choked too. Cassandra let herself both laugh and smile this time as she stayed wedged in between the two of them. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Vex smile proudly at her.

“Besides,” Percy replied. “Our daughter…she’s going to need her aunt. When she’s too frustrated with us, you’re the one she’s going to turn to for advice. You’re going to be the one she looks up to. I consider myself so blessed as a father that she’ll have you and her mother to help her become an incredible person. And I want her to turn to you when she needs you.” He kissed the top of her head before adding, “But she is going to need her Aunt Cassandra here.”

“I’ll do my best,” Cassandra promised softly. “Good,” Vex murmured. “That’s all we can ever ask for. I mean, we brought your brother back after he made a deal with a smoke demon, so by all accounts you’re doing much better in the whole ‘dealing with your feelings about the past’ thing.” The tips of Percy’s ears turned red and he huffed impatiently, “Scanlan still hasn’t paid for a new gun, by the way.”

“Darling, you’re the Lord of Whitestone, I’m fairly sure you can just fund your own research…”

The playful bickering between her brother and his wife settled over her, in the way that a warm blanket or a nice cup of tea would. Letting her eyes flutter close, she didn’t see Percy in the snow or the Briarwoods lurking around the corner. In fact, she didn’t see anything, just let herself smile as she kept herself in the present, listening to her two favorite people in the whole world indulge in their home with their arms still wrapped protectively around her.