#i will probably never see where my grandparents were born and this is considered normal!

[metamatar]

it's true though that the partition refugee trauma is slightly insane making. it is displacement with no possibility of return, not simply because it is impossible to go back to 1947 or because we lost the argument but because even any imagination of return is a betrayal to india as it is. to want to return to a world where you can simply take a train to lahore is a refusal for the punjabi to accept the gifts of having been saved by the "secular" side. and the worst part is with hindutva even that is denied, so the only thing partition trauma can even have the space for now is fuelling islamophobic atrocity porn.

[apircteslife]

♛ᓚᘏᗢ☾ For Shanks ✄☼☘︎ For Hook

⚠︎୨ৎଳ For Sanji

Family Headcanons - Accepting

♛ - What is your muse's relationship with their grandparents like?

Honestly? Shanks has zero idea who his grandparents are, his fathers are Roger and Rayleigh since he has no idea where he's from so there are no grandparents in the picture for him. The only grandfather kind of figure he has is Whitebeard, but the old man was a grandfather/Uncle figure considering he's known Shanks since he was a Cabin boy.

ᓚᘏᗢ - Did your muse grow up with pets in the house? Do they have them, now? If so, what kind? Talk about them a little!

No pets growing up since the seas were far too dangerous for pets, he would easily joke that the closest thing he had to a pet as a child was Buggy, but he's also massively protective of the boy who was practically his brother... And these days, monster doesn't count as a pet since they are true crew member on the Red Force.

☾ - Who in your muse's family are night owls? Are they more productive at night than they are during the day? How late do they normally stay up?

Past family, the night owls were most likely Rayleigh and Crocus, the two of them probably staying up and lamenting about their Captain and his mischief often. Present family, Benn is definitely one of them, keeping an eye on the crew as they drank and making sure they all got back to their home safe before he settled down himself. I imagine Beck definitely gets more done during the night because he's not dealing with his Captain's penchant for mischief in the evening.

✄ - Has your muse cut some or all of their family off? Are they close to someone else as a surrogate?

Okay... so my backstory for Killian is based off of an amazing song called Compass by Sail North so some of his history is based off of that.

Killian cut his parents off when he was just a teenager. He ran away from home when he was seventeen, the age that his son decided to fly the nest, and began to travel. His father wasn't the warmest of men, nor did he believe in his son and so he ran the moment he could and resulted in making his own crew; said crew began with his First Mate William Smee who became his surrogate father when the man began to look out for him. He also ended up with a brother in all but blood with Gaston.

☼ - Who in your muse's family are early risers? Are they productive in the morning? Does your muse love or loathe morning people?

Hook is an early riser, born from years on the seas, he wakes early to see the sunrise but also wakes early to handle business due to running the Tavern. CJ is also an early riser since she loves finding out different adventure stories from the docks so that she can write her books; Harry however... the only thing that will get him up is a bucket of water, though it changes when he wakes up by his partners side.

☘︎ - What is your muse's family's luck like?

Both good and bad. The Good part of the Hook luck was with Killian managing to survive his teenage years and sail the seas without being killed until he met his wife. Katie's luck was just the same as her husbands until the pregnancy with Harry... That was when the bad luck began to over take the good.

Harry has a lot of bad luck that he's inherited from his parents.

⚠︎ - Has your muse inherited an illness or mental health disorder from their family? If so, what is it and how does it affect them?

Does invulnerability count as an illness? especially once it woke up for him after Whole Cake?

Technically he hasn't inherited an illness of mental health disorder from his family, but his birth father did cause Sanji to develop anxiety, claustrophobia and some issues with his self-worth.

୨ৎ - Does your muse share well with their family? What are some things that they're not as willing to share?

Family of birth? HELL NO!

Family of choice? Sanji will often give up his own share of food to his family of choice since he has a few issues with eating since he was a child. He also has never informed his crew of his own allergies so he will happily share his food to them if it helps him avoid that; however, he will sometimes keep strawberries aside because it's his favourite food.

ଳ - What sorts of activities does your muse participate in with their family? Do they look forward to it or dread it?

Sanji will participate in almost everything with his crew, mainly because he's forever grateful that Luffy chose to see the good before even knowing him. He'll join in with them whenever they request his presence unless he's busy experimenting with recipes.

[servin-up-surveys]

survey #188

Have you ever wished you had been born the opposite sex? No. Gender/sex has never been a thing I feel some sort of attachment towards, like it plays absolutely zero role in my view of myself and my level of comfort as this human being that I am. I'm honestly really grateful for that since trans people regularly go through fucking hell by people whose lives are entirely unaffected by how they choose to identify and live.

Have you ever been insulted or called names by a significant other? Not while we dated/knew each other.

Do you drink more frequently than once a week? I don't even drink once a month. It's normally only celebratory, and even then I drink very little and with a puny alcohol concentration because I hate the taste of alcohol.

Do you have any step-grandparents? Yeah, but I don't consider him my grandfather. He and my maternal grandmother weren't married long before she died, and he's just... not family to me. I don't dislike him, he's just not someone I consider real family. He just married the grandmother that I despised.

Have you ever been to a same-sex wedding? I haven't yet.

Have you ever attempted to pick a lock? Did you succeed? No.

Do you like sour candy? Yes, I love it.

Where would you like to go on your honeymoon? Probably like, Venice.

Is there anybody you’re not ashamed to tell anything to? No. By no fault of others, I am just very, VERY easily excruciatingly embarrassed, even over things I've been told aren't embarrassing at all.

Are you disrespectful to a lot of people? I sure try not to be, I don't think so.

Do you like the color pink? um YES, it's my favorite general color and basically all its tints and shades make up my most beloved colors lol.

Ever kissed someone your parents hated? No. Apparently at the time Sara and I dated Mom didn't really like her, but she didn't hate her until she spoke ill of me.

Are you drifting away from your best friend? Absolutely not, I really do love him more every day. He's the bestest best friend I've ever had.

Would you feel hurt if your last ex was in a relationship? Not at all, I don't care what she does.

Is there anyone who seems to always be under the influence of something when you see them or talk to them? Does it bug you? No.

Do you and your boyfriend or girlfriend fight a lot? Nope.

Have you ever cleaned up someone else’s vomit? The day I thought would never be possible finally came and I helped Girt with this, lol. Granted it was not a lot like at all, and it was barely digested so it was less ew than it coulda been. He swallowed wrong and food kinda got caught.

Does your boyfriend or girlfriend get mad/jealous when you talk about the opposite sex? No, he's an adult that's secure in his relationship.

The last time you burned your tongue or mouth, what were you eating? It wasn't severe or anything, but I had some angry spaghetti awhile ago lol

Has someone ever made you a Build-A-Bear? NO but i dream of this

What’s your favorite flavor of Doritos? Cool ranch.

Do you feel free to post how you feel on Facebook? I mean I feel free to, but I sure as hell don't. I rarely post things about my actual life on there, I just share memes or pretty/cute/motivational stuff. I have a very strong "Brittany literally no one cares" mindset on there and I just feel awkward talking about my life.

Do you read Reddit? If so, how often and what subreddits do you like? No, Reddit is Girt's thing, I've never really explored it.

Do you know anyone who's had a baby recently? Not VERY recently.

Do you listen to any podcasts? How do you listen to them? No, that's another one of Girt's likes.

Why did you leave your last job? I don't enjoy anxiety attacks that leave me crying in the restroom.

Do you know anyone who has been through a divorce? lmfao plenty of people, divorce isn't exactly rare.

Would someone being either a cat or dog person affect you dating them? No, unless they hated cats and weren't willing to potentially one day live with one if we stayed together. I will not get rid of Roman for a partner.

When was the last time you had a PopTart? Many months ago. I don't really eat them because they're completely non-filling to me so are just empty calories.

Would you ever jump into a fire to save your best friend? I can pretty much guarantee I would, I guess UNLESS it was a situation where I'd 100% inexorably obviously die, but I still kinda feel like if it was Girt in there, I'd try no matter what.

What’s the worst thing you’ve ever done? I think my darkest demon will always be the fear that maybe I was emotionally abusive to Jason after we split. I really don't know if my behavior qualifies, but I don't like thinking about it.

Do you think walruses are cute? I do.

Do you know anyone named Trey? Not one living. One of my elementary school puppy-dog crushes was named Trey, and I later found out because of Mom that he later died via drug overdose as a teen or young adult. His parents or someone had a road named after him.

What was the name of your last or current math teacher? I don't even remember his name.

Do you know anyone with a lip piercing? Yeah, me, lol. Probably many others. Most people I've known who've had them took them out by now, but certainly not all.

Do you own any hair ribbons? No.

Have you ever given birth? Nope, gonna pass on that.

Do you enjoy making out? If I'm in the mood to.

What’s your favorite class you’ve ever had? I had a lot of fun in high school art classes, especially my I think junior year.

Would you rather get [another] tattoo or piercing? If I could only pick one, a tattoo.

Do you prefer cold or room temperature drinking water? I will not drink water that isn't at least pretty darn cold, because otherwise I hate it. Room temperature water is so disgusting to me. One of the most relatable obscure posts I've ever seen was someone describing warm water as "soft" and cold water as "pointy," aND IT'S INSANE HOW *CLEARLY* I GET IT, LIKE I 100% KNOW WHAT THEY MEAN, and it plays a role in why I only like cold water.

When you read a book, do you use a bookmark or simply dog ear/fold the top of the page? I just dog-ear, though for a book I really cherish, I'd want a bookmark. I prefer bookmarks in all cases, but I don't always care enough.

Do you know anyone who owns a gun? my brother in christ I live in the South

Have you ever seen a panda in real life? Where was it? No, but I would LOVE to, of course if the zoo took proper care of them.

Have you ever had Covid? What was your experience like? Once, yes. My primary symptom was an extremely sore throat, and I ended up losing my voice for a couple weeks, I wanna say. For many months after I could feel phlegm in my lungs and I'd often hack it up with a strong cough, but I will say I consider myself lucky in that my experience with it wasn't nearly as bad as I've seen others deal with. I got vaccinated (which no, I do not regret and I fully encourage vaccines).

Has a romantic partner ever given you a pet as a gift? No, and I don't really want this to happen unless I'm in on it. I don't want to be gifted a random pet. The only situation where this would be acceptable for me is if they knew it was a pet I wanted and was in a state to properly provide for them.

Have you ever been bitten by a spider? It's certainly possible I have at some point in 27 years of life, but I don't have an even remotely memorable experience of one.

Tell us something that made you happy yesterday: Mom and I watched Hocus Pocus 2! I'd been wanting to see it since I first heard it was being produced, I just at the same time don't really watch movies; I have to be in a very specific mood, and yesterday evening we watched it. I loved it, but the original still has my heart.

How many people have you been really in love with? Two.

Are you a seafood fan? In general, no; the only seafood I enjoy is shrimp. I haven't tried a lot, but I've at least found I generally dislike the taste of fish.

Give me a random word in another language. Tell me what it means. "Meerkat" in German is "erdmännchen," which literally translates to "little earth men" and I think that's absolutely precious.

Would you prefer a pet rat, mouse, snake, lizard or spider? I love all of them!! However if I could only pick one of these to have, it's gotta be a snake.

Can you keep a pokerface and not show your emotions easily? HAHAHAHAHA NOOOOOOO

Do you think rainbows are pretty or overrated? Man, who thinks rainbows are OVERRATED? If you don't think every single time you see one that rainbows aren't cool as fuck get outta my face bro

Do you like carrot cake? Surprisingly, yes.

What’s the grossest/worst thing you’ve ever seen in a public restroom? Blood completely covering the underside of the toilet seat. I went into a gas station bathroom with my then-best friend, and she'd recently discovered she was pregnant so was being VERY careful with basically everything, and I could not fucking believe when she checked the seat.

What’s the worst relationship advice you’ve ever seen? Misogynistic shit. If you think it's bad everywhere, come to the southern USA.

Have you ever volunteered in a hospital? If not, would you ever want to? No no no no. Hospitals are very upsetting for me.

Have you ever had a disappointing Christmas, or any disappointing holiday if you don’t celebrate Christmas? I remember one specific year as a kid and I wanna wring her throat lmao, I was so blessed with how hard my mom specifically always went, but Dad too.

Have you ever had to give a pet away? Yes; a number of cats over the years, our old nightmare of a dog Bentley, and my young iguana Kaiju because I did not have the funds to house him properly. He was growing too fast and that terrarium wasn't gonna cut it.

What’s the junkiest junk food you’ve ever eaten? Hmmmm, I can't say I'm sure.

Did you play pretend a lot as a child? Were there any recurring plots or themes? Oh I certainly did, I loved this. I played house and Barbies with my sisters, and my big "plot" as a kiddo was with some toy dinosaurs, crocodiles, deer, and Pokemon figurines that I had an ongoing story for that I sure as hell barely remember now, other than the crocodile and deer were married and had two kids that were the other croc and fawn, lol. The dinosaurs were the villains. I also loved making blanket forts where I pretended inside was a burrow and I was a meerkat (this should surprise NOBODY). I also liked making fucking "penguin nests" out of the rocks in our driveway??????????? One more lil tidbit I remember is I liked to take a leaf and pile seeds and little plant bits onto it, kinda mimicking A Bug's Life, which I was obsessed with.

How do you feel about runny egg yolks? Fucking disgusting, I will not poke it with my tongue.

Have you ever hidden a relationship from your family? Well, yes, technically. Joel and I never actually dated, but something not okay was going on between us.

Have you ever used a view-master? YES!!!!!!!! omg I was obsessed

Do you know any sex workers? If so, how do they feel about their job? Not that I'm aware of.

What kind of wild animals do you see most frequently where you live? Birds, squirrels, opossums, raccoons, deer.

Do you and your parents share any of the same hobbies? Mom and I both like to write, but she doesn't do it much, sadly. Dad and I both enjoy fishing, even though I don't really do it anymore because I feel mean lol.

Who was the worst friend you ever had? Honestly, when it boils down to it, probably Sara. Maybe Colleen, not sure.

Do your parents and grandparents get along with each other? I think Dad and his family were cool. I don't really know how Mom and her dad were, he died when I was like two, but my mother and her mom had a very rough relationship. My grandma was straight-up abusive to her, and Mom just wanted approval and love from her up to the day she died. By the way, guess which kid of hers took care of her on her deathbed?

[oldsmobile-hotdogs]

Questions for crossover jatp ghosts crossover fic: I hope Julian and the sunset curve boys talk about the fall of the Berlin Wall and the Yugoslav wars that happened when they were alive + Bill Cilnton. I wonder what pat and the band would talk about considering that they would of been kids when pat died? Do you think Julie would think of Les Mis and Hamilton cos Thomas and Kitty are from about the same time period as those musicals? I hope Julie calls Fanny Mary poppins.

Anon, or "Mimi", or "Lulu", or, heck, maybe even "Carl Birtles": Update: Not Carl Birtles. Carl Birtles sent me an ask and is cool, actually.

Stop. Right now. I'd say stop while you're ahead, but you are so far away from ahead at this point it's laughable.

For everyone confused, this is that "commenter from AO3" I joked about making a 2017-esque story time video about.

A couple days ago I uploaded the first chapter of a Julie and the Phantoms/BBC Ghosts crossover fic.

You know what? I’m gonna promo it here bc it’s my callout post and I can shill if I want to: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30681704/chapters/76661471

It was generally very well received and I've had a blast interacting with readers.

Except for this.

Honestly, there's so much to get into, so I’m putting it under a cut:

This was their first correspondence (email notif bc I deleted the comment, the deletion to be explained later):

(Funnily enough, the links very much do not work on AO3, making the comment only more jarring)

I gave you *so much* benefit of the doubt when I saw this comment, and assumed that maybe you're an ESL user, just very enthusiastic to share ideas, and I pretty much said so in my reply, but know that at that point I'd already had friends- who fucking know about this, don't you dare think you're getting me alone- tell me that you were being very demanding.

Below was my reply (another email notif):

I'm gonna be honest, I think I responded really well to what I was given, and now that I'd replied, I was pretty certain the situation was dealt with. You, evidently, didn't agree, as shown by your reply to my reply:

A word of advice: when replying to someone, at least pretend like you read what they wrote.

At this point I'm left wondering two things:

What do they expect from me, if a general reply is not it?

How much more shit do they have waiting to tell me to put in my- reminder, JATP/BBC Ghosts crossover, rated T, comedic- fic?

In order to avoid finding out either, I freeze the thread on AO3. I'm liveblogging all of this on Discord.

It's then that I notice that the username on AO3 isn't clickable, so even if I wanted to block or report them I couldn't. I assume, therefore, that they've deactivated, and since them seeing their comments gone and getting angry was the only thing stopping me deleting the comments, I delete the comments.

It's also at this point I see "Mimi" never left kudos. I guess I don't deserve praise until I mention "Bill Cilnton".

There's relative calm for a short amount of time, until I get another comment:

This one is much kinder than the others and doesn't mention any specific, weird, historical events, so the extent to which I think this is "Mimi" is debatable, but bestie I'm weirded out enough that anything that even uses the enter bar unnecessarily and misses out conjunctive words like "because" and "and" is going to activate fight or flight. Update: Carl Birtles is not Mimi or Lulu. Carl was just being genuinely kind and I misinterpreted it and that's on me.

However, "Carl"'s case is not helped by the fact I can't click his account either, that AO3 offers me the ability to report it as spam, and that guess who replies to "Carl"'s comment: Update: Carl, having done nothing wrong as he has, is therefore also a victim in the situation that is being replied to by Lulu. It would seem Lulu is trying to correct??? some of Carl's commentary.

You must think I didn't get a 7 on my English Literature GCSE because you seem to underestimate my ability to compare two texts.

So clearly this is "Mimi", who has also just replied to "Carl". "Lulu" is also deactivated, and I've fallen off the end of my tether, let alone reached it, at this point so I mark it as spam. "Carl" gets to stay bc he said the idea for the crossover was good. Update: Carl also gets to continue to stay because I have it on good faith that he's a stand-up dude.

So at this point you've readily admitted through your inability to shake up your writing style to using at least one sockpuppet to convince me to talk about the "Yugoslav wars".

If "Carl Birtles" is the real(-est) of them, and "Mimi" and "Lulu" are the sockpuppets, by the way, I have questions and ideas about what you do on your free evenings and I want them neither confirmed nor answered. Update: This is slanderous and I want to apologise wholeheartedly to Carl for making assumptions about him and judging his character. Once again, he is not Mimi or Lulu. He's just a normal, cool guy.

And now you come to me, on the day of my daughter's wedding on a different platform, leave me an anon ask in the exact same format as you're so fond of, and expect any different ??

Well, yeah, then I guess I'll give you special treatment this time.

Here's exactly why I will never include anything you have told me to include:

Julian and the Phantoms discussing the Berlin Wall would be highly inappropriate for the largely fluffy, cracky tone of my fanfiction, especially given how recently the event occurred, how many Eastern Germans still experience prejudice to this day because they were born within the old borders of the DDR, and because of how nuanced this, essentially proxy war, was and how ill-informed a huge amount of the world is on the actual factors in play during this time and the Cold War in general.

Julian and the Phantoms will not discuss Yugoslavia dissolving, nor the fallout and conflict that resulted, because it was genocidal. There is nowhere I can fit Julian, pantsted, casually asking Luke “hey do you remember when the Herzegovinas were killed en masse by the Serbs?” Not gonna happen.

They won’t discuss Bill Clinton because all of them know who the current world leaders are: they don’t have amnesia, they’re ghosts. The fic is also rated T, so it would be inappropriate to make any explicit reference to “sexual relations”. None of them play saxophone.

Julie wouldn’t think of Les Mis or Hamilton because Thomas is Regency, not French Revolution, and Kitty is Georgian, not Colonial.

Julie won’t be calling Fanny Mary Poppins because she is perpetually stuck in a white dress, doesn’t wear a hat, doesn’t own an umbrella or a purse and was not the nanny or housekeeper of Button House.

The ghosts will not discuss the marvels of modern transportation or how long it would’ve taken to cross the Atlantic on dinghy because the ghosts have seen Friends. The house irl is on a flight path. They know airplanes exist. Alison and Mike pulled up in a car.

I will probably have the phantoms and Willie talk to Pat and Julian about being from the ‘80s and ‘90s. That I will actually probably do.

The Captain will not mention FD Roosevelt because, again, they all know who the current world leaders are, and I doubt he expects a ‘90s pop punk band to have any insider knowledge on the man.

It was interesting to think of the phantoms’ grandparents having been alive during WW2. I wasn’t lying. But there is nearly nothing I can do with this information.

But above all: both sets of ghosts have already adapted to modern life. Because the shows are shorter, and meant to actually be able to fit jokes in them.

If you want to see any of this, write your own damn fic. I don’t own the concept of a JATP/BBC Ghosts crossover.

What you will not do, “consonant-vowel-consonant-vowel”-nim, is hound me on multiple accounts and then change platform to hound me again. I’m absolutely not having it.

I have never received an interaction quite like this before, and I cannot help but wonder if this is because this is my first work in the Ghosts/HH/Them There/Six Idiots/Yonderland/Bill fandom: that this is where you primarily camp out.

So it’s at this point I ask the Them There/Six Idiots fandom if they have/if they know anyone who has had a run-in with this person or thinks they may have, or if anyone perhaps even knows who this is? Maybe I’m just one of many. Maybe this is a necessary fandom evil I was unaware of.

This experience has left me royally freaked out, as one might imagine, especially since my anxiety in general has been acting up due to it being exam season. I want to thank everyone who’s read my rambles on Discord and on here and even listened to them irl and offered support from the bottom of my heart.

I’ve enabled comment moderation on the fic. I will continue to write it, and I will put exactly what I, and only what I, want in it.

Believe it or not, I wanted to do literally anything else today.

Anon: Fucking Leave Me Alone.

Update: Just reiterating: Carl is not Mimi or Lulu. Carl is a cool dude and I want to sincerely apologise for having brought him into this mess, passing judgment on his character, and making him feel like he should stop practicing English online.

[hoplessdreamer9796]

BTS 8th Member - Profile

Name: Kim Y/N  Date of Birth: 16/09/1996 Ethnicity: Half Arabic and half Korean Nationality: Is British but after moving to Korea obtained dual citizenship (I don’t know if this is a thing but if it’s not let’s just pretend)

Appearance: > Navy Blue eyes > Dimples > 5″8 > Light golden tan skin > Curves and athletic > Looks Korean due to eye shape and Arabic due to eye colour. Mainly looks Korean but it is obvious she is half.  > Tattoos:  1) “Familia Super Omnia” (”Family Above All” written in Latin on left shoulder blade). 2) Initial and birthdays of her younger brothers on left wrist and older brothers on right wrist (Just her brothers... For now...). “No oppa I don’t love you that much I just often forget your existence.”  3) Matching tattoo with Hanbin of the Neverland stars on right shoulder blade.  4) Matching tattoo with Shinhye of a forget me not flower on their upper thighs.  5) ARMY written on both sides of her index finger because, “Now they can see my love from both angles,” cue Jin face palming.

Basic Information:  > Born in England moved to Korea when 11 years old.  > IQ of 162 and has an eidetic memory but terrible at remembering birthdays. > Can memorise choreography after seeing it once.  > Is a main singer of BTS, like Jungkook, and is Hoseok’s second dancer in command.  > Graduated high school after the first grade at age 16 (international age). > Was on the track and swimming team during high school and middle school. Could not attend practices as she had to work so much but the coaches still allowed her to be on the team as she was advantageous in competitions. She has always been first in every swim and track meet she competed in. > Was not able to go to university at first as her family couldn’t afford it. But when BTS and her company was stable and doing well she was able to get a physics degree from Seoul National University (mainly online classes due to schedule, they normally don’t allow this but they decided they wanted her to attend the school due to her IQ and status. She attended classes when she could and did exams at the school) Got her degree in one year.  > Speaks 7 languages: English, Korean, Arabic, Chinese (both Mandarin and Cantonese) Thai, Japanese. (Learnt Chinese, Thai and Japanese in order to connect with fans better.) > Can play the piano, guitar, can beatbox, can play drums and also the violin but doesn’t like playing the violin (will be explained later). > CEO of Jeonsa Corporation which is comprised of Almira’s (a restaurant franchise where her mother created all the recipes) and Jeonsa cosmetics.  > Became world’s youngest self-made billionaire at the age of 21 in 2017 (In this AU Kylie Jenner became billionaire at 22 and was the world’s fastest self-made billionaire).  > Terrible with feelings in general. > Is okay at showing affection with people but as soon as the conversation starts to get deep and emotional, she spazzes out.  > Drinks way too much alcohol and loves clubbing. > Only likes casual flings as she’s too busy and doesn’t want to commit. (For now...) > Even though she has more than enough money she won’t leave BTS as she loves what she does.  > At first didn’t want to join BTS (will be explained later). > Very charming and charismatic, flirts with anything that breathes.  > Hates her birthday. > Buys way too many cars and drives too fast.  > Owns a lot of real estate. > Terrified of bugs mainly spiders (will be explained later).  > Swears way too much and it triggers Jin.  Family:  Grandmother (biological fathers side) - Kim Soojin (17/07/1953) - Unemployed Grandfather (biological fathers side) - Kim Woosuk (23/08/1952) - Unemployed  They both allowed Y/N, Adriel and Adonis to live with them on days when their mother would work nights. Y/N mainly looker after them as they weren’t able to find much work in their old age. Some of the most precious people in Y/N’s life. Grandfather (Stepfathers side) - Kim Wonshik (30/06/1955) - CEO of Hanam Hospital (I made it up)  He thinks of his son’s stepchildren as his own grandchildren. He loves them very much. Whenever his grandchildren are free, he likes playing golf with them. Y/N at first was nervous that he wouldn’t accept her and her siblings as they were not fully Korean and poor. But she was surprised how much he loved and accepted them so easily. Mother - Kim Almira (21/03/1974) - Head chef at one of the branches of Almira’s in Seoul. She has not been able to be a part of her Children’s lives as she would have liked because when she was not working at the restaurant she was working somewhere else or sleeping. She often feels guilty at how much of her childhood Y/N has missed out. It also makes her feel grateful for having such amazing children. She often blames herself for Y/n being so emotionally closed off but it’s as if her daughter knows when she’s feeling like this and will take her mother shopping in Milan and Paris. A life that she didn’t even think was possible. Or even just spend the day helping her cook. And she thanks the stars for giving her 7 amazing children. Stepfather - Kim Haeil (24/07/1973) - Cardiothoracic Surgeon who met Almira at the restaurant. He quickly became mesmerised with the foreign beauty with the light hazel eyes. He often found himself stopping by Almira’s more and more often. Having little dates in the gardens halfway between the hospital and the restaurant. They fell in love quickly; He grew to love her kids that he saw when he went to the restaurant to visit Almira. He became protective over them especially Y/N who’s eyes looked far too old to belong to a teenager, seeing how much their family struggled he wanted to marry Almira a few months after they started dating and help them, he cared for them greatly. Y/N told her Mother that she didn’t want him to pay off their debt out of pity. They were working so hard what was the point if someone did it for them. She didn’t need someone to take care of them. In reality she was worried he would be like Insu. Y/N had no problem with Haeil, you hadn’t seen your mother so happy for years and you didn’t object to their relationship, however you didn’t need someone’s charity, which back then due to your pride was what you thought of it as. You also reminded your Mother that she had only known this man for a few months and asked her to get to know him better before considering marriage. Your mother although saddened by your inability to take the easy way accepted your decision. They waited until you had paid off all of your family’s debt before he had taken her back to their special garden and proposed to her there. It’s easier to call Haeil Dad than Insu. You love him very much at first it was weird having a father figure that actually cared and you never really got used to having a protective father who loved you so much. Biological Father - Kim Insu (13/03/1971) - Unemployed. Abusive to Y/N and Almira. When he would try to hurt her little brother’s Y/N would never let him. He never hurt her older brother as he claimed that his son never did anything wrong. Elijah probably hated him the most because of this, if he tried to protect his sister his father would just hurt her more. He felt powerless as he was not able to protect his younger siblings. As Almira was at work most of the time Y/N got the worst of his treatment. The only thing he cares about is money, women, alcohol and gambling. In England around Y/N had just turned 11 he got a divorce and left them, much to everyone’s relief. However, after you had started making a lot of money after debut and when the restaurant started doing well, he showed up in your life again. Your grandmother was so happy. He threatened to tell his parents the truth about what he did unless you paid him. The thought of your grandparents knowing what kind of a monster their son was sickened you so you struck a deal, he stays away from the rest of you family and spends two hours a week with your grandparents in order to get paid ₩250,000,000 every week. He accepted and now your grandparents are happy to be in their son’s life with you protecting them from the real him the best you can.   Stepbrother - Kim Jaejoon (23/07/1991) - General Surgeon. He met Y/N at the hospital when he went to visit his father and Y/N was dropping off food for her future stepfather that her mother had sent. He had recognised her from how his father’s at the time girlfriend had described her. Her blue eyes standing out in the sea of ordinary brown. He introduced himself to her and told her he was her mother’s boyfriend’s son (cringing inwardly at how awkwardly he said that). Y/N had just smirked in amusement at his awkward state trying to hold back her laugh and introduced herself. The more he talked to you the more he realised how smart you were. You could easily keep up with him when he talked about his job. He also met his future brothers that day when the two family’s got dinner together. It was surprisingly easy for the two families to integrate. He quickly grew protective of his future younger siblings. He wished that Y/N hadn’t been so stubborn and had let their parents gotten married in order to make things easier but understood that it was something she had to do and his sister is the most stubborn person he knows. He is very protective over his sister and often lectures her on her drinking and clubbing antics. He nags at her so much it’s ridiculous, fuck when he saw her first tattoo, he threw a fit it was hilarious. He can’t see her as anything other than that wide eyed teenager with sad blue eyes, she’s gotten to good at hiding that look. >Sister in Law - Jeon Haeun (12/08/1992) - Vascular Surgeon  >Niece - Kim Seoyeon (29/01/2018) - N/A  >Nephew - Kim Youngsoo (31/05/2019) - N/A  Full blooded Brother - Kim Elijah (17/03/1993) - Cardiothoracic Surgeon. He is very grateful to Y/N as she is the one that practically had to force him to go to university for medicine. He didn’t want to leave his family and he also knew that their family wasn’t financially able to send him there. Y/N told him that they’ll manage but he still refused. But when you told him that when he becomes a doctor and starts earning money he can provide for their family; he was determined to do this. He said that he would get part time jobs and send money, but you told your mother and him that you’d take care of everything and for him to focus on school. You had to cut back on a lot of thing but were able to get him into a student dormitory, a small and cheap one but that's all you could do, a food budget and a bus pass. He was very grateful and guilty. He was determined to succeed and help their family. But it turns out that you managed to do that before him. Years later he found out that after you graduated high school at 15 you had been offered a full scholarship to Seoul National University for medicine but you had declined as you had to help your mother provide for your family and pay off your debts. He was especially angry since he also went to Seoul National University (like all of your brothers who went to university) and felt like he robbed you of the opportunity. He got into a huge argument with you when he found out. After the fight you two drank and reminisced about the few good childhood memories you had. He babies you a lot and is very overprotective of you. Stepbrother - Kim Taejoon (27/04/1993) - Trauma and Orthopaedic Surgeon. He’s the kind of brother to randomly stop by your office and force you to lunch with him. He’s the cliché overprotective brother, glares at any boy that looks in her direction and hates basically everything she wear unless they’re baggy. A part of him hates Y/N’s noncommittal attitude to relationships because well that’s his sister and well eww but the other part of him is glad. Glad that his sister will never allow herself to get emotionally hurt but it also saddens him that she won’t ever open herself up to love. He coddles her a lot always texting if she’s had dinner and checking on her when on tour. As much as you complain when he coddles you love it. Full blooded Brother - Kim Adriel (18/02/1997) - Footballer plays for Liverpool, (I have no clue I legit searched premier league football clubs and picked the first one) is the youngest Korean ever football player to make it into the premier league (Don’t know). Lives in England most of the time. You are the most precious person in the world to him. He is a lot more intuitive that his twin brother and was able to find out sooner than Adonis about their financial situation. After finding out he started waking up earlier to make his grandparent’s breakfast to let you sleep a bit more. At first you protested but the thought of even an extra hour of sleep sounded heavenly. He felt so guilty about how he acted before he knew and so when he found out he sobbed in your arms apologising. And your heart broke you always wanted to shield him from that. When he moved back to England, he was very anxious at the thought of living far from you. He texts you every single day, needing at least some form of communication to stop him from worrying about you.  Full blooded Brother - Kim Adonis (18/02/1997) - Youtuber and is living in England. He moved back there when he was 16 in 2013. His channel had 500,000 subscribers but was not making any money. He played games online with different youtubers and became close with them. They explained how they make a living off of YouTube and he became excited at the thought of pursuing this career. While it was a risk especially with his family’s financial situation at the time, he knew he had to do it. While his entire family was against it, especially Adriel, you convinced your mother to let him go and used all the money you saved for a rainy day to buy him a phone and a plane ticket on the condition that he attends online high school. He lived with a family friend until he could start supporting himself. As of now has amassed seventeen million subscribers. He visits Korea whenever he can, if you’re there, to see you. He’s regretful about how much pressure he put on you in order to achieve his dreams but whenever you tell him how proud you are with that glint in your blue eyes he knows that you mean it. Adrien and Adonis are fraternal twins. When they were young, they were very close. However, when Adonis wanted to move to England to further his YouTube career, Adriel was vehemently against it. Not because he didn’t love his brother and of course he’d miss him but because of the fact that Adonis wanted to make their situation even harder than it already was. That he wanted to make his sister work harder than she already did on something he wasn’t even sure would work. Due to this difference of opinions Adrien and Adonis grew apart and when Adonis went to England, they didn’t contact each other unless you made them. However, after Adrien moved to England they began to reconnect and slowly but surely their relationship began to heal. Much to your relief. The twins are the most attached to you as you are both a mother figure and sister to them. There is an unspoken rivalry and tension between them and Jungkook as they all get jealous and territorial over you. Stepbrother - Kim Hanuel (25/06/1997) - Studying Law at Seoul National University. He graduated high school a year early, then attended university for a year before enlisting in the military as soon as he could. He wanted to get it over with so he could focus on his future without it looming over his head. He finished his university degree in two years with a bachelor’s in law. He graduated at age 22 (International age) which was the same age as most people who were graduating however he had the advantage of having completed his military service. He is the younger brother Y/N sees the most as he lives in Seoul. You have sacrificed a lot for your family and would do anything for them.

[thegoodgayshit]

Luz’s mother really doesn’t want to send Luz to camp. She knows once she leaves, there is no going back. But Luz has a knack for getting into trouble, and one day she stumbles into the same type of people her mother would have preferred she avoided. After helping Luz dissolve her high school bully into dust, Eda and Lilith know right away that this kid is just like them - a child of the gods. So Luz hops on a Pegasus and heads to Camp Half-blood, where she embarks on a dangerous quest that makes her both friends and enemies... and she might even save Olympus along the way.

Chapter Twenty-Two: Amity Get’s in Touch with her Ares Side

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Amity said quietly, watching Luz carefully from next to her by the holographic table.

Luz had probably zoned out again, staring at the map of Mt. Elbert with a frown on her face. She was trying not to worry her friends, but the more she thought about her conversation with Alador Blight, the more worried she got.

What did he mean by her dad was looking out for her? She hadn’t heard a word from him her entire life. How could he be watching her? And what was this whole “balance of the world” thing? The paper Alador had given her was still sitting in her pocket, and she could picture the little map he’d drawn without needing to look.

The fire made no sense. Hestia was the goddess of the hearth and home. Why would Belos need Hestia’s hearth to open the portal? Why not a god-like Hephaestus, whose fire was used to create and destroy? It just didn’t make any sense.

Luz knew she was onto something, she had a gut feeling she was on the right track, but she’d hit a roadblock in her thinking, and couldn’t shake the feeling she was missing something big.

Now, as she zoned back into reality, she noticed that her friends were watching her with a worried expression. She had told them about most of the conversation with Alador, (leaving out the little part where she’d asked out her dad, it wasn’t like it mattered anyway) and Amity had listened quietly while worrying her bottom lip between her teeth.

That had surprised Luz, she would think that it was good she and Amity’s dad had a relatively good interaction. Anything was better than talking to Odalia Blight again. She’d ask Amity later about it.

Now, though, she had to worry about acting as normal as possible. She didn’t need to unload her spiraling brain on her friends.

“I’m alright,” Luz insisted, and carefully reached under the table, taking Amity’s hand gently and squeezing it. The action itself was bold, and Luz didn’t know how she’d gotten the course to do it, but judging by the heavy blush that built its way up Amity’s face she hadn’t seemed to mind.

“Ok,” she responded after a moment, swallowing hard. “I just… my parents aren’t the easiest people to deal with. You’re sure things with my father went fine?”

Luz nodded, tossing Amity a little half-smile. “Yeah, I think they did. I don’t know what I did to deserve it… but I think your dad likes me.”

The little giggle that came out of Amity’s mouth made Luz’s stomach do flip flops. She wondered if she’d accidentally drank milk instead of apple juice with her dinner.

She had no idea how long she’d been standing there smiling, (and probably looking like an idiot while it happened) but it was long enough that Willow awkwardly cleared her throat and put her arm around Gus’s shoulders, who was so enamored by the war table he hadn’t really been paying attention.

“Right, then if you’re all good, Gus and I should go get our stuff packed, especially since we’re planning to leave bright and early.”

“We should?” Gus said, looking up at Willow with a furrowed brow. Willow elbowed him, and he yelped, clutching his arm. “Ow! Okay fine, let’s go pack.”

The two quickly shuffled out of the room, leaving Amity and Luz standing there awkwardly. Luz pressed her hands against the war table, fixating her eyes on the holographic Mt. Elbert. She could hear Amity shuffling her feet beside her.  

It’s not like Luz was feeling awkward around Amity, because she wasn’t. She had nothing to feel awkward about. All things considered, she and Amity were in a really good place. They were closer than they ever had been, a real team, and had gotten closer in more ways than one.

So why was Luz feeling so awkward?

Amity eventually cleared her throat, and Luz made the mistake of looking up at her. She watched Amity pull back a strand of hair behind her ear, and Luz watched, unable to tear her eyes away. Eventually, she met Amity’s eyes and saw that her face had pinked.

Luz looked away quickly, her own blush forming at being caught staring.

“So, your dad is not what I expected,” Luz said quickly, and when she looked up again she saw that Amity’s face had fallen. She looked disappointed again, like she’d had when they’d been waiting outside of the workshop for the taxi to prom.

“Yeah, he’s… a little unpredictable,” Amity said carefully, her eyes training to one of the bronze figures dressed in Greek armor. “But most Ares kids are like that… so it’s not surprising.”

“Ares is your grandfather,” Luz said slowly, and Amity’s face dipped into annoyance.

“Yeah? And?”

Luz couldn’t help but chuckle at that, leaning over to gently push Amity’s shoulder with her fist. “Nothing, it’s just that the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, you know?”

“Are you calling me unpredictable?” She retorted, her face twisting dangerously. Luz forgot how intimidating Amity could be when she tried, but right now it only caused Luz to laugh louder at the irony of it all.

“You’re kind of proving my point right now,” Luz pointed out, and Amity blinked. After a moment she rubbed the back of her neck sheepishly.

“You’re right, sorry.”

“It’s alright,” Luz said with a shrug, tilting her head to shoot Amity a teasing smile. “I don’t really know if you could have any of Ares’ godly DNA anyway, but it would explain where all that skill with your sword comes from. Those moves during capture the flag? All Ares.”

Amity blushed again, all her previous annoyance forgotten. “The second generation of kids born from half-bloods are called legacies. If their parents are half-bloods, then sometimes they can show abilities from their godly grandparents, but they’re usually pretty diluted. I guess I never really thought about myself as being both a half-blood and a legacy.”

“What? The great Amity Blight?” Luz exclaimed, putting on a flaunty voice that was probably insulting to British people. “Camp Half-Blood’s prodigy and the co-leader on the quest to save Olympus breaking yet another half-blood boundary? I’m shocked.”

“Oh shut up,” Amity laughed, pushing against Luz’s shoulder hard.

Luz was laughing when she’d been pushed, but she also hadn’t been expecting the force that came with the nudge, and couldn’t help but stumble back and lose her footing. She probably would have hit the ground flat on her back if Amity hadn’t also seen it, reaching forward and wrapping her hands quickly around her waist to steady her.

When Luz looked up, she suddenly became very aware of how close the two of them were. Amity’s face was inches from hers, so close she could feel the shaky exhale of breath on her face, and once again see the splash of freckles across her nose. Luz’s mouth suddenly felt very dry, and without meaning to her eyes once again darted down to glance once at Amity’s lips.

But this wasn’t the Luz at the prom. She wasn’t dancing with Amity under the florescent lights of the university ballroom, dressed her best in a suit and filled with the confidence of a pep talk from her best friend. This was the Luz who was dreading a hike up a dangerous and probably life-threatening mountain, so zoned out thinking about what was coming next she couldn’t even fathom the idea of what would happen if she closed the gap between them. So, like a coward, she swallowed and leaned back, and Amity’s hands fell from around her waist and awkwardly back at her sides.

When Luz looked back up, she couldn’t handle the deep look of hurt on Amity’s face, and she knew she’d probably made another one of those big mistakes she couldn’t take back.

But the swirling in her stomach wouldn’t let her do anything about it. Instead, she just did what Luz did best in a crisis.

She rambled.

“You’re dad said he feels guilty about the last time you were here.”

Whatever kind of reaction she’d been expecting out of Amity was nothing compared to what she did next. Amity’s face dropped from disappointed to furious in a matter of seconds. In the blink of an eye, Amity was suddenly clenching her fists, her eyes narrowing to a point where Luz could barely see the golds of her eyes.

“He what?” She said, so quietly it was almost a whisper. But Luz knew better. Amity was a moment away from exploding. It was the same expression she’d had on her face during capture the flag, right before Luz had shocked her.

Luz recoiled out of reflex, backing up until the small of her back smacked against the side of the war table.

“Uh,” she said meekly, not wanting to anger her any further. “I don’t know if you actually want me to repeat it or if you were just asking rhetorically…”

“I heard you,” Amity said, and when Luz didn’t give any sort of reply to that, she just scoffed loudly, turning to the left and walking in quick paces back and forth along the length of the room. “I just can’t believe he would say something like that.”

Luz’s confusion was quickly starting to outweigh her fear at Amity’s angry reaction.

“Wait… you can’t believe he would feel guilty?”

“He doesn’t have the right to feel guilty!” Amity snapped, turning back to her furiously, and Luz shrunk back against the table. “He isn’t allowed to just pull you aside and talk to you about how he feels guilty behind my back when he did nothing to defend me in the first place! If he feels so guilty, he should do something about it! Blame Achilles for throwing us off course, or the oracle for making this prophecy the most confusing and ridiculous thing in the entire world!”

Amity took a deep, shuddering. breath, turning back to look Luz in the eye. When Luz saw her face, she felt like her entire heart was tearing in two. Amity looked devastated, a single tear threatening to fall down her face. Her next words were broken, cracking like she could barely say it. “If he really cared, he would call out my stupid mother for throwing me under the bus. He would be there for me, instead of making me feel like this whole thing is my fault.”

When Amity brought her hands up to her face, Luz could see that they were shaking. She used on hand to wipe under her eyes, and she scoffed, but it wasn’t humorous at all. It was the sound of a girl who had the weight of the entire world on her shoulders when she’d never asked for it.

“Why is everything always my fault?”  

Luz lunged forward out of instinct, stepping towards Amity and pulling her close, wrapping her arms around her waist and pulling her into a tight hug. Amity took a shaky breath at the embrace, and Luz gave her a moment to pull away if it was too much.

For a second, she thought Amity might. But then, her hands tentatively wrapped around Luz’s shoulder blades, and she leaned in, pressing her face tight against Luz’s collarbone. She gripped the back of Luz’s hoodie with her hands, and just cried into her shoulder. Luz stood there silently, letting her cry, rubbing reassuring circles around the small of her back.

After a little while, Amity’s face turned, and Luz could see the damp patch on her hoodie where Amity’s tears had soaked it.

“I’m sorry,” Amity said shakily, and Luz just shook her head, tightening her grip on her waist.

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” Luz replied gently. “Take as much time as you need.”

With another shaky breath, Amity leaned back into Luz’s shoulder, crying a lot less quietly now. But Luz could feel her body shaking, so she just nestled her cheek into Amity’s hair, holding her tightly.

Eventually, Amity did pull away, just enough that they were still almost nose to nose. Amity’s hands were still wrapped up in Luz’s hoodie, and she took a few shaky breaths. Her mouth opened and closed softly, like she wanted to say something, but no words were coming out.

When she looked up at Luz, she saw guilt flashing in her gold eyes, and Luz shook her head gently, reaching up to gently wipe a tear away from her face with her thumb.

“Amity, stop,” she whispered softly, “you don’t need to feel upset with yourself for crying. Everything you’re feeling right now is okay.”

The daughter of Aphrodite swallowed thickly, before bobbing her head. Luz smiled, using the hand that was already on her face to gently cup her chin.

“If you ever want to talk about it, I’m here. Okay?”

Amity sniffled, but she managed a weak smile. “Okay. Thank you, Luz, I-”

“What is going on in here?”

Amity leaped away from Luz like she was on fire hastily reaching up to rub and her cheeks. Luz spun around, so startled she almost called out her sword. Her eyes widened in horror when she was met with the towering figure of Odalia Blight, her eyes narrowed and set upon the two of them.

She looked at Luz almost with disinterest (Luz tried not to feel too offended by that), but then her head turned, and her eyes bore into Amity with a ferocity that shook Luz to the bone. Odalia Blight pushed her shoulders back straight, and crossed her hands in front of her, raising her index finger to point at her. It wasn’t an inherently scary gesture, but Amity flinched, her back bumping into the war table.

“Amity,” Odalia said, and the tone was so frosty it sent shivers down Luz’s spine. The temperature in the room seemed to drop twenty degrees. “Have you been… crying?”

Amity straightened her back, and Luz saw that she was desperately trying to hold face against her mother, but it just had no effect. Her eyes were still red and her cheeks tearstained, and her hands were pressed against the back of the table so hard her knuckles were turning white. When she opened her mouth, Odalia’s eyes seemed to narrow again, and the atmosphere got even colder.

“Don’t even think of lying to me.”

It was suddenly occurring to Luz that the room was actually getting colder. Goosebumps were rising on her skin, and when she exhaled, she could see her own breath. When she looked over, she saw that Odalia’s index finger was spinning very slowly. Luz hadn’t been a half-blood for long, but even she could tell that this was magic.

Luz’s heart was hammering in her chest at the tension, but she also couldn’t help but feel a protective spark beginning to rise up in her stomach. Amity didn’t deserve this. She already pushed herself too hard, it wasn’t fair that Odalia would catch them the first time Amity had ever been able to acknowledge and feel her pain.

She clenched her fists at her sides, doing her best not to glare daggers at Odalia. Luz always made things worse, and she knew it would really hurt Amity if she made things worse.

“Yes, ma’am,” Amity said softly, and despite her voice not wavering, Luz could tell she was panicking.

“So explain to me, Amity,” Odalia replied, taking a single step closer, her eyes narrowing even further at her confession. “What would a demigod in your position have to cry about?”

Luz’s jaw clamped, and she fought the urge to charge at Odalia right then and there as Amity recoiled. How could Odalia not see that she was the reason Amity was crying? Her and her horrible expectations and standards impossible for Amity to uphold.

Maybe she did know. Maybe Odalia was just a completely vile person. Luz was having a hard time reminding herself not to intervene.

“You have been given a tremendous opportunity at a second chance after your repulsive first failure.” Odalia continues, taking another step forward. “You put both me, your father, and your siblings to shame.”

Luz couldn’t do this anymore. She couldn’t watch this. She couldn’t let Amity hear this for one more second.

“You should be overjoyed. At the very least, you should be helping your companion instead of crying on her shoulder over your petty and childish issues.”

Something in Luz snapped, and she stepped forward furiously, right between Amity and Odalia. The rage had built to a point where she was seeing red, and she held out her arms protectively.

“Leave her alone! Why are you talking to her like that?”

Odalia blinked, and for the first time Luz saw what looked like surprise on Odalia Blight’s face, but it was quickly replaced with anger. “Excuse me?”

“Luz!” Amity whispered from behind her, and Luz turned her head to look. Amity was staring at her with wide eyes, panicked, but not pleading for her to stop talking. Luz took that as her cue to keep going.

“Amity did not fail you, or her dad, or anybody else,” Luz spat ferociously, staring her down. “She works harder than anybody else I’ve ever met, and she’s saved my life more than once. You’re being cruel to her for no reason!”

“And what gives you the right to talk to me about how to raise my daughter?” Odalia shrieked, and if Luz hadn’t been so angry, she probably would have been terrified by the way Amity’s mother was yelling at her.

“I’m her friend!” Luz yelled back, stamping her foot so hard it caused all the objects on Adalor’s desk to tremble and the bronze armor on the figures to clack together. In the back of her mind, Luz knew she was taking it too far. She heard footsteps sprinting down the hall, and vaguely saw the heads of Willow and Gus watching silently in the doorway. She thought she might have seen Alador’s shadow standing behind them too, but she was too angry to tell.

She pointed an accusing finger at Odalia, staring her down with every last scrap of rage she could muster.

“I care about Amity. I won’t let you treat her like she’s worthless when you’re not even half the demigod she is-”

Everything happened very fast after that.

Before Luz could even register what was happening, Odalia had thrown the knife. She wasn’t even sure where it had come from, maybe the inside of her suit pants, or maybe she’d had it in her hand the whole time and Luz just had been too angry to notice. But she was able to recognize that it was spinning towards her and that there was no chance she would be able to dodge it unless she wanted it to sink into Amity’s stomach.

So she just braced for the impact of the knife into her chest, but it never came. In front of her, a hand was thrown out to protect her, a bronze shield shifting in an instant to deflect the knife and send it scattering loudly across the floor.

Amity’s shield.

The daughter of Aphrodite stood with her chin close to Luz’s ear, breathing heavily as she glared at her mother. Her arm was crooked across Luz’s chest, the shield still covering her body.

“You can do anything you want to me,” Amity said, her voice void of any fear she might have been feeling before, “but you don’t touch her.”

There was a brutally tense silence. For a second, nobody moved, everybody staring each other down, but then Odalia straightened. She adjusted her blazer, crossed her hands together, and then turned her head completely away from them towards the door.

“Get out.”

Amity moved her hand away from Luz, and the shield transformed back into a bracelet. Reaching over, she took Luz’s hand firmly in hers, and she walked quickly out of the study. Willow and Gus were waiting by the door with their bags, and they slung them over their shoulders. Luz wasn’t able to look at Willow or Gus as she took it, too afraid of confronting what had just happened.

Instead, Amity’s grip tightened on her hand, and she pulled Luz towards the entrance to the manor, Willow and Gus loyally on their heels. Amity pushed open the huge double doors, and Luz felt a cool rush of the summer night’s air hit her face as she descended the stairs.

As they walked down the driveway and past the gates, Willow and Gus slowly fell in line to Luz’s right. They took off straight down the street, and even though Amity didn’t look back, Luz couldn’t help herself.

As she turned around to see the Blight Manor getting smaller and smaller the farther they walked, she locked eyes with Amity’s father standing on the steps of the manor.

Luz thinks she was probably the first person to ever see Alador Blight shed a tear.

[stones-x-bones]

Dreamwalker || Hina and Bex

TIMING: About a week ago PARTIES: @born-to-be-wildes​ and @inbextween​ SUMMARY: Hina’s dream is interrupted by Bex when she’s drawn to her energy. Some things aren’t meant to be seen by outsiders. CONTENT: Domestic abuse mentions, Family death mentions (cousin)

It was the first time Bex had fallen asleep willingly in a while. She hadn’t really put much thought into it, instead choosing to focus on getting through each day of her life while wondering when her parents would finally give in and just call the police on her. Or worse. The looming threat of their presence was always around, even if she hadn’t heard from them in weeks-- which might have actually been worse. Not knowing what they were thinking or what they were doing made her stomach churn. Either way, most nights were spent laying awake until she physically couldn’t anymore, and only then did she let her body fall asleep, though sometimes it felt easier with Mina around. Several dozen alarms were set, waking her at least every hour, and to make sure she was really, truly awake, she would prod herself in different fashions. She’d been doing it less and less lately, though, and that was all that mattered.

But today, after so long, Bex was so tired, and all she wanted to do was sleep. And while she’d been having strange, extremely vivid dreams, the one tonight somehow seemed even more so. She was in a classroom. It wasn’t very large, which meant it wasn’t a lecture hall, and the large, wooden tables meant it probably wasn’t an elementary school classroom. Someone was talking and it echoed around and Bex turned in a circle, eyes landing on a woman at the front, discussing some plans with someone else. She looked so happy, eyes alight, a smile on her face. Short brown hair framed her face perfectly and she had on a dress not unlike the one Bex wore. A door opened and someone else came in, and the two seemed to know each other. It was strange, though, because Bex did not recognize either one of them. She made her way towards the front of the classroom, looking around at all the pictures hung on the wall-- art done by previous students, before a voice caught her attention. “Do you go here?” Bex turned, looking over at the two women. She pointed at herself. “Me? I, um--” Okay, this was weird. People didn’t usually talk back to her in her dreams, not like this. “I’m-- not sure, actually. Um...where is here?”

Hina felt delighted : her cousin and mentor had stopped by to see her new classroom. Obviously, it was far from what the young witch wanted, but it would take a while before she could finally see the final product. She hoped that she could create a place fit for inspiring teenagers. The place was a bit dull with its eggshell old paint on the walls, it's aged linoleum and it felt lifeless. A bit of elbow grease, a bit of thrifting and just a bit of magic had helped her turn things around. Yet, the room lacked something for everything to fall into place. Hina was unable to put her finger on what it might have been. She had hoped that perhaps Gillian would have insight on what to transform, add or remove, but it did not seem likely now. 

It was then that she caught sight of a stranger standing by the white board. They looked young, and she suspected them to be either a student who had taken a wrong turn or an alumni looking for their former art teacher. Hina knew that if it were the case, she would disappoint, especially as she had no idea of where her predecessor had gone. According to the staff, they had just vanished one day.

It was her cousin who spoke up. The voice felt foreign, for a reason she couldn't really identify. It filled the woman with unexplainable melancholy. The stranger's reply was too strange not to push away those états d'âmes. Hina put her hands in her painter's apron and glanced at Gillian. Seeing that she was no longer speaking, she chose to reply : "This is my classroom, I'm Ms. Wildes the new art teacher," she had doubts that this would be a suitable answer. Her identity didn't help identify the place at all, if you weren't familiar with the high school.

“Art teacher?” Bex glanced between the two women. She wasn’t sure what she was going there, or what they were, but she supposed it made sense that the art teacher was in the art classroom. But Bex wasn’t taking art class-- seh hadn’t since high school. And since when did the university have an art classroom? Wasn’t the art school divided up by major? She blinked again and felt the world go fuzzy for a moment, shaking her head to regain herself. “Is this the high school, then? What’s, um--” she took another look around but the room was empty. Where were all the students? “Where is everybody? Is class starting?” There was something so strange going on, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on it. She didn’t remember coming here, and she’d never been inside the public high school in White Crest-- she’d gone to a private boarding school. Her legs began to shake as an anxiety filled her. Something was wrong here, but she had no idea what. “I’m sorry, maybe I should just go. I’m sorry.”

Hina looked briefly at her cousin. It seemed clear to her that the young woman was a bit lost, and she wondered if perhaps she was not simply dealing with an exchange student, or someone who had just arrived in the US with their parents. “Yes, it is. White Crest High? Home of the…” She grimaced. Truth be told, she had not quite memorized which animal was the mascot. : a moose perhaps, or a lobster. It must have been either of the two options. At the next question, Hina tried to remember what day it was, when she had arrived, or anything that could have given her a hint of what time of the week it was, but nothing really came to her mind. She approached her laptop to have a look at the date on the screen, but instead, an old typewriter that belonged to her grandparents stood there. That should be in the attic, she thought to herself. She had moved it upstairs two days ago. “That’s weird,” pushing herself away from her desk, she headed in the hallway, to check for herself. There was no one there. Not one soul. 

With a familiar void in her chest, Hina turned back to check on her cousin. She couldn’t quite tell why, but there was this overwhelming urge to make sure that Gillian was still present. And the relief she felt seemed disproportionate, all things considered. Something was going on. 

“Where are you going to go?” As she spoke, Hina had gone to stand by Gillian. “What are you doing here?” If the question had been directed at Bex, the witch froze as her cousin replied, speaking with a dimmed out voice: “You know why I’m here, she’s gone now.” The young woman felt as if the temperature had dropped with the comment, and she could have sworn that so had any trace of warmth that she had tried to insufflate into the plain classroom that had been given to her. Something was going on. This much was sure now. “Who are you?” This time, there was no questioning as to who was meant to reply to her question.

Whatever was going on between these two women, they clearly weren’t on the same page. And whatever pages they were on, respectively, was not the same one as Bex. She glanced between the two of them but listening to them talk and try to explain didn’t answer any questions. She recoiled a little when the questions turned on her, not ready to answer-- but then the other woman answered, as if it were plain known it had been stated to her. Apparently, the original one who had spoken was unsure as well. “I--” Bex tried to interject, still holding herself a little away from the other two. She didn’t know what was going on, and she had no reason to believe that either of these women would hurt her or were out to get her, but something was very not right about this place, and Bex wasn’t about to jump in and find out for herself. Finally, they addressed her again and Bex jumped. “I-- I’m sorry! I really didn’t mean to butt in! I can go! I’m just-- my name is Bexley. I’m a student a-at the university. I’m not really sure why I--” her eyes fell to the woman in the smock. “You teach here?”

Clearly there was something wrong going on here, and while Hina could not put her finger on it, a feeling of unease was growing, seeping its way in. She had never seen this girl before. And neither woman seemed to know why Bexley was here. If this was rather suspicious , she could not simply force the truth out of the other woman. Or, could she. Her eyes narrowed, and heading toward the door, she put her palm against it as she pushed it close, sealing the door shut with the melted handle. This felt wrong. She could not just do things like that in front of her students. Hina was in control of her emotions (at least she tried), and that girl was not a threat to her, was she? If the witch started to notice that perhaps she was not keeping things under control, the thought was shoved away as a benign anomaly. What did it matter? Sure she would have never done that, but the thing was, she had just done that. So clearly everything was normal. “What are you doing here?” She repeated, taking her smock out, as if to completely brush away that question about her job. 

The door shutting made too much noise. Why did it make so much noise? Bex flinched and backed up as the woman came towards her. She was a lot shorter than Bex, but it was years of conditioning that made her feel small. “I-I don’t know,” she admitted, hoping the woman could sense the truth from her. She wasn’t here to hurt anyone or threaten anyone, she didn’t even know why she was here or what was going on. “Please, I just, I’m confused, too,” she added on, swallowing. The white board flickered behind the woman’s head and Bex was sure she saw a window, instead, as if she were in a bedroom, not a classroom. She...she remembered that from somewhere. That feeling. What was this feeling again? Her attention turned back to the other woman. “If you could just let me--” she pointed towards the door-- “I won’t bother you anymore. I can just go.”

“You don’t know?” Hina’s brow furrowed. Perplexed, she came to ask herself : what am I doing here ? Focused, she tried to make sense of what was happening, but her mind just wouldn’t let her get those information. Impenetrable, it gave her not one single clue. She couldn’t know why she was here, what she had done before, where she had been before, or remember that her cousin was missing and that whoever was in the room with her and Bex could not be Gillian. She looked over her shoulder, to see what was so interesting behind her, but there was just her whiteboard. She took the time to look up and glance at the clock. Where are my students, the teacher thought. The school should not have been so silent, a school never was silent. The sense of uneasiness that she had felt just a moment ago came back. She knew that something was not right, and yet her mind did its best to assure her that everything going on was normal. She approached the door to open it, but despite her effort to restore it and let Bex out, it just would not budge. She pulled several times again on the handle. It did not budge. “I don’t understand, this should work,” she despaired, stepping back to let the other try.

Bex was relieved to see that the woman wasn’t pressing her on anything. SHe ignored the weird shapes floating around the whiteboard-- those weren't natural were they?-- and went back to focusing on the art teacher. “What um-- what’s your name?” she asked, trying to figure out what was going on, or why this was happening. Leading questions. She inched closer to the woman when she tried the bolted door again, but found it wouldn’t budge. They were stuck. Bex felt her nerves growing in her stomach. The world around her began to worble and she bit the inside of her cheek, trying to remain calm. Bad things happened when she wasn’t calm. “Here, um-- let me try,” she said, coming over to the woman. “I-- I don’t wanna make any trouble or anything, I swear. I just want to help.” She gave her as genuine a look as she could, eyes pleading with her. “Please.”

“I told you I’m Ms.Wi- It’s Hina,” she had let go of the door handle reluctantly. The door should have moved as easily as it did just a minute ago. Frustrated, she pushed herself to the side and motioned toward it with just a bit of aggressivity in her gesture. This feeling of losing control, of being just a pawn. She never wanted to be just a pawn that one could move around. She wanted to make each and everything a choice. Her choice. Though, if that girl was able to open the door, then she supposed she was willing to accept that alternative. She headed to the window. The sun was still up high in the sky. She glanced down at the floor. If they left through the window, they wouldn’t get hurt too badly, would they? Perhaps if she made the floor turn into rubber for a moment, it would be fine ? Or summon a set of stairs from the side of the building ? Those sounded good, but she’d never get away with this. Yet, she’d done just that with that door handle. “How’s the door doing now?”

“It’s nice to meet you, Hina,” Bex said with a gentle smile,trying to keep the situation calm. She had a hunch about what was going on, and she wanted to test it, but she didn’t want to freak out the other woman first. She needed to pull herself together, to concentrate. She paid no attention to the other woman, then, as she came up to the door and looked at the handle. In Nell’s dream, she’d been able to shift the world, so maybe here, now, shifting something smaller would be much easier. She wished Nell was here, or at least that little Nell-bird that had told her what to do last time. Her hand settled on the handle of the door and she willed it with as much thought as she could to unglue itself. Instead, it turned into a bird and fluttered away and Bex yelped, stepping back. “I-- it-- um--” she looked from HIna to the door. “Not well. I--” she swallowed, “I need to tell you something and it might sound crazy, but please, please, just can you trust me?”

“Likewise,” Hina returned the smile, although hers felt more tense, as if she had decided that now wasn’t the time for being pleasant. They had to get out of here, quickly. “Not well. Of cou-”A bird flew past her and out the window. She covered her mouth with her hand, swallowing her scream into a mostly silent gasp. The scare had been enough to bring some Québéquois out of her. And so, she exclaimed herself : “Batince, what was he doing here?” 

Spells that she could not undo, birds showing up from nowhere, this feeling that she had been having for a little while now that something just was not right… Had they both been cursed? Had this girl cursed her? Hina felt lost, and while the temptation to get out of here through the window was big, it was stopped for the time being. She wanted to know what the other woman had to say. It was quite mysterious, but the word crazy had picked her interest as she knew that crazy was the word people used when they couldn’t understand a notion. Either that or witchcraft or an act of God. The options were limited. “I think I can handle crazy. Try me, then I’ll tell you my -I believe-  just as bad option.” 

Bex bit her lip. She was beginning to get used to the feeling-- of magic. It was here, present, and she knew it wasn’t just her. It was this place. “I think you’re dreaming,” she finally said, inhaling sharply, waiting for the angry denial. “I think we’re in your dream. And um-- I, well, you see, I have this um-- ability, I-I guess. To, um-- manipulate dreams. Change them, m-make them better! I--” but when she glanced around, she’d realized that this woman’s dream wasn’t bad. It wasn’t like Nell’s nightmare. There were no shadows, no looming threats, just another woman standing in the corner, smiling pleasantly, and then the woman whose dream it was, staring at her with expectant eyes. “I-- I don’t entirely know how I got here, but I-- I think I can get us out. Or, um, wake you up. If that’s...what you want.”

“I’m asleep,” confused, she glanced at her cousin, who seemed oddly silent, and far too distant. She wanted the woman to stay close to her and not leave her, and didn't understand why she stayed so far from her. You weren’t meant to realize that you were dreaming. She didn’t remember where she had read or heard that, but as she started to feel dizzy, that piece of information had easily come back to her head, as did the fact that her cousin shouldn’t have been here. “I’m dreaming,” just as she began to sit, a chair appeared right under her, allowing for the woman to rest and regain control of her balance. An ability, Hina knew better. There was something supernatural at stake here, some sort of magic that focused on the mind, while it was at its weakest. Clever. “Can’t I just jump out the window? That should wake me up, right?” She raised her eyebrows, taken aback, but also worried: "You're not going to get stuck here, if I do this?" She really didn't want to do it. She might not have been in a dream but the victim of a hallucination. Hina just couldn’t allow herself to believe all that she was told. Her eyes narrowed. She was curious to hear Bex’s solution. “I’m listening, what do we do?” It was not what she wanted, no. She looked over at her cousin. Her lips trembled. Overwhelmed with sorrow, she tried to tell herself that she preferred not to share those moments, even if they weren’t real, with someone she had just met. 

“I-- I’m sorry,” Bex stuttered. She kind of wanted to stay here, too. Her chest didn’t hurt here, she wasn’t exhausted and weighed down by the guilt of her actions. She looked at the woman, watched her sink into a chair that appeared from nowhere. Conscious of her dream, the woman could now control it almost as much as Bex. Probably more, considering Bex barely knew her own power. She needed to stop doing these things by accident. She needed to get better control of herself. Maybe she could start by taking control of this dream. She looked at the woman in the corner, then back to the woman whose dream it was. “I can change the dream,” she said softly, chewing on her lip. “If you want. I-- I know this probably isn’t something you want someone like me to see. Someone you...don’t know.” She rubbed her head. Last time she’d done it, she had gotten stuck somewhere, but that was a completely different situation, wasn’t it? It had to be. She didn’t want to go back to that place. A sudden fear gripped her and the world began to turn dark around them. No, she needed to calm down. She inhaled and held it for a moment. “No, I-I don’t think I will. I think we’ll both just...wake up.” A pause. “Hopefully.” She couldn’t really ask this woman to just trust her, but they had no other choice. Bex had no other choice.

“I -” She shook her head in dismissal. What good could it do her to see her family again? She’d wake up crying and wondering why she was so stupid. “No. I’d rather not. This is fine,” she looked over where her cousin stood. The woman stared at Hina with an emptiness in her eyes now, as if she had gone somewhere. 

The witch took her eyes off of her and approached the younger woman. There was nothing to worry about, right? They would both wake up, and everything would be okay. All she had to do was to wake up now. Hina might have not been sure of what to expect Bex to do, she was beginning to tell herself that maybe this was part of the dream. It must have been what made the most sense to her brain. “I..Okay, wake us up.” 

Bex looked between the two women and wondered what could have happened to create such a palpable sadness. She felt like an intruder. And she was. And wasn’t the dream trying to push her out? Like white cells attacking a disease inside someone’s veins? She swallowed and held her hands out to Hina. “Okay, just-- think about your room. About your bed.” This time, Bex didn’t have any place to think of except her own room, her own bed. She closed her eyes as she tried to picture it, and as she tried to picture where she wanted them to go, how she wanted them to wake up. Just like she’d done with Nell, in her dream. A hiccup of fear grappled inside of her-- what if she ended up in the wakeless dream world again? Her grip tightened for a moment. The world flickered around them. Faces began to melt away. The room unfolded itself as if it were a gift box and they drifted into a void, before an energy snapped between them-- HIna’s energy hadn’t been warm like Nell’s, it felt like sand, almost. Hot sand on a warm beach, and ocean, and salt, and rocks. Right before Bex’s eyes snapped open, she understood something about the woman’s energy-- it was familiar, but it wasn’t. 

Her head shot up on the bed and she inhaled sharply. She was alone, in her room. Hina’s face was etched into the back of her eyes. She needed to find Hina now.

[spartanguard]

even death won’t part us now (2/?)

Summary: Two covens, both alike in dignity, / In fair New York, where we lay our scene, / From ancient grudge break to new mutiny, / Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean. From forth the fatal loins of these two foes / A pair of star-cross’d lovers take their life; / Whole misadventured piteous overthrows / Do with their death bury their sires’ strife. (Captain Swan + West Side Story + vampires. But not as sad. Probably.)

rated M | part 1 | AO3 | 3.9k words

A/N: I was going to post this update yesterday but *life*. We really get into the story, though—I hope you enjoy it! Thanks again to @optomisticgirl​ for being an awesome beta; to @thesschesthair​ for her amazing art; and to @kmomof4​ and @cssns​ for putting this event on and pushing me to continue this story!

say what you will about Glee, but Darren Criss’s version of this song is amazing

part two— the air is humming, and something great is coming...

2020

The sun was setting on another day, just like it had for the last 5000-plus. At least, Emma figured the number was up there; she’d stopped counting around day 4,588. Which was really an absurdly long time to count considering her days were no longer numbered, but old habits died hard, even if she never would.

She’d accepted that fact somewhere around day 4,040, which ironically was her 40th birthday. But instead of dealing with gray hairs and wrinkles and aching joints, she was still in her 28-year-old body, fairly spry and with exactly one white hair blended into her blonde. (Not that she could see it in the mirror anymore—or, you know, anything—but she knew it was there and that was all that mattered.)

She knew she’d finally settled into her new life when she was looking forward to drinking the deer blood she had at home and not longing for chocolate cake like she had the past several birthdays. Well, she still wished she could eat it—real food didn’t digest properly anymore—but the blood sounded just as good.

“It probably took me about that long to come to terms with it, too. Longer for your dad,” her mom had told her about the revelation.

That had been another epiphany: that the kindly undead couple she’d somehow ended up on the doorstep of—David and Snow Nolan—were her parents. Her actual birth parents. You know, the ones she’d been looking for her entire mortal life? (Had once dreamed would save her from one shitty foster home after another until she finally gave up hope, and instead turned to counting the days until she moved again?)

As it turned out, they’d been attacked and turned shortly after she’d been born—which apparently had been in a backwoods cottage in Maine that her grandparents had owned—and were taking her to the hospital for checkup after the fact. They didn’t trust themselves to face their new reality while also in charge of an infant (an infant with delicious-smelling blood, no less—creepy, but true) and so finished the journey to the hospital, but left her there alone.

Coming to terms with that had taken 1,187 days. There would have been lots of tears, were any of them able to cry; but instead, there was just a lot of emotion, which Emma had never dealt well with. But she was getting better. Who knew the kind of personal growth one could achieve after death? And it was a good lesson in how to handle (or not handle) things should the son she herself gave up ever manage to track her down.

(She looked—once, before she was turned. All she’d been able to find out was that he ended up in the foster system, too. She just hoped he was having a better time of it than she did. Well, had—he’d be an adult by now, wouldn’t he? Damn.)

So. Anyways. Sunset. Which Emma was watching from the roof of their building, which had become something of a refuge for her over the past 15 years. She had her own bedroom, but after so long on her own, being an adult suddenly under the same roof as her parents (who, despite being physically younger than her, still acted like her parents) was a bit stifling at times.

It wasn’t much, but it was her own space: she’d cobbled together a tent with some reclaimed tarps, filled with gently-used cushions, and on nice nights, would bring out a sleeping bag and let the lights and sounds of the city wash over her. It had been overwhelming at first—she kind of envied that her parents only had to deal with forest smells when they turned, and not the incredible everything of New York—but it had dulled over time, which she probably should have expected; it had only taken her a week or so to get used to the smell the first time, right?

That’s to say—the overwhelmingness did; she learned to tune things out and let them fall to the background. But her senses themselves were the sharpest they’d ever been, consequently making her even better at her job than she’d been pre-death. Having ethereal beauty compared to a mere mortal easily drew in most of her targets; her preternatural sight, hearing, and strength made it pretty simple to track them down and subdue them (she loved it when they ran); and she’d found out they were extra willing to comply with her demands when they were down a bit of blood. (It probably was connected to the whole your-sire-can-control-you thing but it didn’t last once they’d recovered from the blood loss and it kept her from murdering random ne'er-do-wells on the street; the lower a body count a vampire kept, the better.)

On a normal night, she’d be getting ready to catch another skip: either gussying up for a honeytrap, revving up her old Bug for a stakeout, or trying to track them down on Tinder while binging Netflix in the background (they kept up on technology...for the most part; she still wasn’t sure what a TikTok was). One thing a lot of the stories leave out is that it takes a long time to build up the kind of wealth and decadence you see with old vampires; even Emma’s parents still had to work, 40-odd years into this thing (David was an after-hours vet and Snow taught night school) and their townhouse was not rent-controlled. 

Of all the vampire media out there, their existence was far more What We Do In The Shadows than Twilight.

(Emma had always preferred comedy anyways.)

God, she was really getting sidetracked tonight. Anyways. No one was working because it was the anniversary of her being turned—her rebirthday, so to speak—and her mom was very much Leslie Knope when it came to anniversaries, but especially this one, given that it marked them finally coming together as a family.

That, and they were all going to get drunk.

“My class is a bunch of assholes this semester—I need this,” Snow had gushed earlier that week, grading papers behind their blackout curtains. (Vampires didn’t sparkle, thank god—at least, not without the help of glitter—but they were dangerously susceptible to sunburns, so the whole pale thing was accurate.) “And David—you’ve worked every weekend the last month; they can definitely operate without you for one night.”

“I put in for it a month ago, dear,” he tutted as he gathered the laundry, placing a kiss on her cheek as he went. 

They were definitely one of those nauseatingly cute couples, so it was a good thing Emma’s gag reflex was dormant. And, though she’d never admit it, she was a bit jealous that they’d been able to find—and keep—something that had evaded her her entire mortal life, and likely would for her afterlife, too.

Every now and then, a flash of blue eyes blinked into her vision; the same pair she’d seen on the night she transitioned. She still wasn’t sure they were real, and her parents genuinely knew nothing when she’d asked, so she never did again. The fact that she hadn’t ever seen them again, despite knowing just about all the vampires in this part of town (for better or worse), had her pretty convinced it was a mania-induced hallucination. But damn, was it a good one.

“Emma, are you ready?” Snow’s voice pulled Emma from her daydreams (nightdreams?). “It’s time to go,” she shouted—not loud enough to annoy the neighbors, but enough for Emma to hear.

“Coming,” she replied, then took one last glance at the night sky. Maybe there was something different in the stars? She didn’t know; she just had this feeling that something was going to change tonight. 

She brushed her hands down the skirt of her light pink dress; it wasn’t what she’d usually wear, but since this wasn’t her typical honey trap, she’d borrowed a dress from Snow. It was definitely sweeter than her taste, with its pastel color and A-line skirt, but just cut low enough to not be demure. Her high ponytail fell somewhere in between. Her fangs would probably take it in another direction, but it’s not like she was going to pose for photos—she only just showed up in those.

In a moment, she was back in the house, grabbing her purse and joining her parents (who equally straddled the line of sweet and seductive; it was a vampire thing). 

Out of nowhere, a flash of light blinded her. “Seriously?” she cursed, blinking away the temporary blindness, only to see her mother holding a Polaroid camera. That was the one thing that could document them; thank god the hipsters over in Greenwich Village had clung to them.

Snow just grinned and shook the picture while David lectured, “It’s not like we got to see you off to prom or anything.”

“Yeah, but are you going to do this every year?”

“Yes,” Snow stated matter-of-factly, smiling at the photo before setting it aside. “Now come on; there’s a bloody mary calling my name.”

“Where are we going?” 

“That new underground club at 43rd and 10th. Figured we should try it, and it should be trouble-free.”

‘Trouble’ meaning the Aurum coven. Emma still hadn’t figured out the reason for this centuries-long blood feud, but she did know that she’d been dragged in on the side of Coroza, under a woman named Cora; turns out Walsh had been one of her cronies. And it normally wouldn’t affect her, save for the fact that her parents were turned by someone in Aurum (led by the mysteriously mononymed Gold) and that had dangerous implications, not to mention the rising tensions between the two groups as they began to encroach on each other (and each other’s feeding grounds) on the Upper West Side. 

“You sure? That’s awfully close.” 43rd had become an arbitrary border between the two factions, and there had been more than a few skirmishes while people were on the prowl for a midnight snack. She’d had a couple close calls of her own while tracking down skips in the part of town, but had somehow managed to evade notice.

“It’s on our side of the street,” her mom shrugged in response and grabbed her purse.

(Why one side couldn’t just move to another part of town, Emma didn’t know, but she was definitely aware of how stubborn vampires could be. And she wasn’t going to move; there’s no way they’d be able to get a place like this anywhere else for a reasonable price.)

She’d hardly gotten out the door when a familiar scent caught her nose—and not necessarily a welcome one: Graham.

“Uh, hi, Emma,” he stammered, while giving her a shy yet adorable grin.

“Hey,” she answered back, not meeting his eyes—and instead finding Snow’s, who was intently studying the sky. Snow had been trying to get the two of them together for at least 10 years, and while Graham was a great guy, a good friend, and handsome to boot, Emma had never been attracted to him like that. A fact that seemed to keep falling silent on Snow’s ears despite her enhanced hearing. 

(His blue eyes were pretty, but they weren’t the pair that kept haunting her.)

Given the sudden awkwardness that settled over the group—because that was apparently something you had to deal with whether you were dead or alive—it was up to Emma to break it. Not that she had any skill in that department.

“Alright, uh, let’s go,” she said with little confidence, and set off towards the club, with the others falling in behind her; Graham stayed close and if she wasn’t mistaken, attempted to put an arm around her, but she walked a bit faster to avoid his reach. The bar was only a few blocks away, which they could normally cover in less than a minute, but they had decided to blend in with the crowd tonight; it was nice to be normal every now and then.

But still—every now and then, the hairs on the back of Emma’s neck rose, and it had nothing to do with Graham’s proximity. Something was coming; she just didn’t know what. 

That wasn’t for her to worry about tonight, though. Tonight was for fun and drinks and dancing. And once they got to the darkly-lit club, that’s what she focused on for the next hour or so—

—Until her gaze locked with the blue eyes from her dreams.

★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★

Killian took a deep breath as soon as he exited the jetway—and immediately regretted it. He didn’t know why he expected LaGuardia to have changed at all in the past 15 years. Despite all the reconstruction, it still smelled the same: of old coffee, questionable sushi, and stale humans. (The latter was a double-edged sword: despite eating shortly before he got to Heathrow, there had been a few delays before takeoff and he was feeling rather peckish now, although nothing here seemed appetizing. Which was probably something he had in common with mortals at the moment.)

He didn’t know why he’d assumed that he might have been routed through JFK this time—why would he think Gold would care enough to properly welcome home his best operative from abroad after 15 years?—but he tried to push that ire to the back of his mind as he summoned an Uber.

At least the delays meant he landed just as the sun was setting; his previous plan had been to hang around the terminal until dusk, so at least this prevented any awkward encounters with some overtalkative Midwesterner on their way back to Cleveland. Signs pointed him to the ride share lot, and a gentleman named Marco was waiting to take him home.

On the ride into the city, he marveled at how New York always seemed like a living, breathing thing, constantly evolving and changing. He could still sharply remember the dusty bustle of the town more than 200 years ago, the sound of carriages running over dirt and cobbled streets. He’d watched as the city grew, sprawling both across and beyond the Manhattan island and up into the sky, the smell of horses and people and sweat replaced by the acrid stench of exhaust (although, even his extra-sensitive nose had gotten used to it in short order). 

So it was both surprising and not to see how much the city had changed even in the last 15 years, most noticeably in the skyline: the Twin Towers were still fresh in everyone’s memory when he’d left, so to see the new One World Trade Center in their place was a bit jarring. But the sun still glinted golden off the skyscrapers the same way; pedestrians still hardly waited for the crossing signals to give the okay to go; and though he wasn’t in a yellow cab, a language barrier still lay between him and his driver. 

Cash tips were understandable to all, though, which Killian handed over once they’d arrived at his apartment building on 34th—the Chelsea side. He’d owned his flat since the building was constructed, which was fairly impressive, but did require him to occasionally change the name on the paperwork lest anyone notice anything suspicious. 

(Someone had figured out at some point that it was helpful to have an ally in both the Social Security office and the DMV; Archie and Jefferson traded off every 20 years or so in order to help create revolving identities for the members of the vampire community. The name on his ID at the moment was Kyle Johnson, and during the past 100 or so years since he’d been required to have one, he’d also been Killian James, Ian Joseph, and—though he had to admit, he’d picked this one just to see if he could get away with it—James Hook.)

And thankfully, he’d had a reliable roommate for the past 80 years. “Honey, I’m home,” he called out after braving the still-shaky lift to the top floor.

“About bloody time,” Robin called back from the couch. “You know I had dinner ready for you before you left?”

“Ha,” Killian answered. “I’d hate to see what that looks like after all this time.”

“Oh, I let him go. And good thing, too—he ended up writing Hamilton.”

Killian had barely poked his head into his musty bedroom before he returned to the living room. “You didn’t actually have Lin-Manuel Miranda in here, did you?” To most people’s surprise, Killian was a bit of a theater nerd; the West End was great, but he was looking forward to catching up on Broadway again. 

“No. But maybe that’s a good strategy if we want to get tickets.”

“I’ll keep it in mind.”

His stomach grumbled in agreement.

Robin chuckled. “There’s a bottle in the fridge you can have; figured you’d be hungry when you got back.”

Killian tossed his luggage in his room and emerged again. “Have I ever mentioned that I love you?”

“Maybe a few times over the past several decades.”

He downed the bottle quickly; the black blood market never gave the best stuff—considering the type of mortals who would be willing to sell their blood for money and didn’t qualify to sell plasma—but it hit the spot in a pinch, and every now and then had something good. This definitely wasn’t, but it sated his thirst long enough to take a shower and wash the airplane off of him.

As he stared at the fogged mirror with nothing looking back at him, rubbing his palm over his permanently well-trimmed scruff, he realized he hadn’t yet checked in with Gold. Even if he’d spent the last decade-plus doing the man’s bidding from abroad, it was still easy to forget about him.

Well, mostly—until he glanced back down at his blunted left wrist. Then it just brought ancient memories to the surface, as fresh as the day they’d happened, no matter how many centuries had intervened.

Which reminded him: he was still missing something. He shot off a quick missive to Gold as he pulled some clothes out of his depressingly dated closet (having left anything more modern in a consignment shop in London), managing to put together something vaguely timeless. But before he dressed, he turned his attention on the nightstand drawer.

He slowly pulled it open, though he knew what would be inside: his hook, as sturdy and sharp as ever, with its well-worn leather brace. Sure, he had a fairly modern prosthetic hand—one that TSA didn’t mind so much—but the hook had come first, and was definitely his preferred artificial appendage. He hadn’t meant to go so long without it, but then again, he hadn’t expected his London assignment to take so long. 

(Although, 15 years to him was roughly the same as 2 or 3 to the average mortal.)

Slipping on the soft leather was like greeting an old friend (well, another one, albeit he’d known this one longer than Robin). And snapping in the hook settled a part of him that he hadn’t realized had been adrift all these years. It didn’t fully still the odd sense of anticipation he’d had ever since he landed, but he definitely felt more at ease.

With that settled, he finished dressing and then headed back to the living room and flopped on the sofa next to Robin. “When did we get a new couch?” he asked indignantly, inspecting the unfamiliar upholstery.

“As soon as you left.”

“And what was so wrong with the previous one?”

“It was from the 70s! It was hideous and uncomfortable and you know it.”

Killian could only sigh; Robin was completely right. 

“Anyways,” Robin continued. “We’ve plenty of time to argue about furniture but very little to decide what we’re doing tonight.”

“Why? What’s tonight?”

“You arrive back in North America for the first time in a decade and a half and you think that’s not a reason to celebrate?”

“Well, I was in Toronto a few years ago.”

“Still the Commonwealth. Doesn’t count. What do you want to do? There are quite a few people anxious to see you.” 

Well that’s good for them, he thought, but he wasn’t so sure of the same. The time away in the UK had definitely made him reconsider some of his connections back here in the States; getting away from the drama with Coroza had made him realize how petty he found it all. Though he’d never be completely extricated given that Gold was his sire, he’d definitely be alright with staying distant from the other frivolous disputes.

(And after spending a bit too much time in Brighton—particularly with some headstones bearing the name Jones and some rather divy taverns that were still somehow open all these centuries later—he wished more than ever to be free of Gold’s influence. Alas.)

He supposed he could placate them for one night, though; it’s not like he was going to sleep anyway. “Are there any new clubs to check out?”

“For you—plenty. For all of us...aye, there’s one that’s just opened up about...10 blocks away? Ish?”

“In which direction?”

“Up, but kind of midtown so it should be in the clear.” Meaning no one from Coroza would be there.

“Sounds fine, then,” he replied; after so many years, every club started to feel the same, but he was willing to give it a shot.  

It wasn’t long before he found himself dressed in a waistcoat and slacks that were trendy a decade ago, hoping his hair was styled appropriately (he stopped caring about 130 years ago), and waiting outside the apartment building of Robin’s girlfriend Regina.

“Jones, it’s the 21st century; why do you still have a fish hook on the end of that arm?” she greeted when she emerged from the tower, with a young vampire behind her. 

“It’s nice to see you too, Regina,” he tossed back. They’d known each other for well over a couple hundred years and this was just how they communicated. Nodding at the young man, he continued, “Who’s this?”

“This is Henry; he’s new.” The statement was matter-of-fact enough that Killian knew she wouldn’t say anything else. But he seemed friendly, albeit nervous, and Gold never complained about new vampires on their side—just Coroza.

It didn't take much for him to immediately think of Emma. His thoughts had drifted to her more than he cared to admit over the past years, wondering if she’d acclimated or if she’d burned out. It was definitely odd that such a brief encounter had left such a lasting impression, but at the same time, it had taken him well over 250 years to get over his first love; he was a romantic at heart, even if that heart no longer beat. 

He of course said nothing about it as they continued on; if no one had discovered what he’d done that night by now, he was content to leave it that way. There were other ways of him finding out if she was still around, such as—

—Such as the green eyes staring at him from the other side of the club, barely a minute after he’d entered it, freezing him in place.

★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★

thanks for reading, friends! let me know if you want/don’t want a tag! @kat2609​ @xpumpkindumplingx​ @shipsxahoy​ @amortentia-on-the-rocks​ @mryddinwilt​ @cocohook38​ @annytecture​ @shireness-says​ @ohmightydevviepuu​ @profdanglaisstuff​ @wingedlioness​ @word-bug​ @distant-rose​ @wellhellotragic​ @welllpthisishappening​ @let-it-raines​ @pirateherokillian​ @bleebug​ @its-imperator-furiosa​ @fergus80​ @killianmesmalls​ @sherlockianwhovian​ @ineffablecolors​ @laschatzi​ @ive-always-been-a-pirate​ @nfbagelperson​ @stubblesandwich​​ @lenfaz​ @phiralovesloki​ @athenascarlet​ @ilovemesomekillianjones​ @whimsicallyenchantedrose​ @snowbellewells​ @idristardis​ @scientificapricot​ @searchingwardrobes​ @donteattheappleshook​ @lfh1226-linda​

[marauderssequels]

the petunia timeline

petunia evans is a character that I think had a lot of potential. I cannot at all commend the person she became as petunia dursley, and I wish so much that she had looked just a little harder in her heart to find space for harry. I can’t forgive her for the nearly two decades of abuse and neglect she inflicted on harry. still, like peter pettigrew and severus snape, she was a child once, before she grew into the horrible woman harry knew. so, who was petunia evans?

Part One: The Evans In Canon

the evans family is a difficult thing to find canon information on. the best we’ve dug up so far is a statement from an interview rowling made when answering if harry’s grandparents were killed. her exact words about the evans were, “...because I do like my backstory: Petunia and Lily’s parents, normal Muggle death.” now, kindly prepare for some english-major bullshit.

death. not deaths, plural. (yes, obviously this is a minute detail, but there’s really not much else to go on.) if the parents had suffered separate deaths, it should’ve been plural. keeping this noun singular suggests that one event took both parents out at once, leaving them both to experience one collective death.*

so, what collective death might they have suffered? well, considering that petunia wasn’t the most imaginative person, let’s remember that the explanation that she gave harry for his parents’ death was a car crash. that certainly fits our requirements for one event taking two people out at the same time, and it qualifies as a “normal Muggle death”. it’s not a far stretch to assume petunia took her answer for harry straight from the way her own parents died.

we know they were dead by the time lily and james died, due to petunia being lily’s only living relative for harry to go to. the conclusion we’ve drawn for petunia’s birth year (which we’ll explain in a later addition to this post) is 1957, three years before lily’s birth. going by british law, if lily’s parents had died before she was eighteen, she would’ve required a legal guardian until she was of age. (remember, 17 is only considered “of age” for wizards, something the muggle government wouldn’t be taking into consideration). since I cannot imagine rowling made the question of legal guardianship a part of lily’s narrative, we’ll set the parameters of her parents’ death for sometime after she had come of age in the eyes of muggle britain but before lily’s death.

lily would turn eighteen on january 30th, 1978, during her final year at hogwarts. her death occurred on october 31st, 1981. that leaves roughly three years for the accident to take place in.

this understanding is important to petunia’s story mainly because these parameters mean she would not be pulled into any sort of court situation regarding lily’s legal guardianship status. her story, according to pottermore, is that she left cokeworth behind forever, which suggests to us that she never once returned. obviously in the real world, this could’ve meant that she moved out permanently but still returned for visits. considering this is coming from rowling, a woman who tends to write in absolutes, it’s more likely to be the “never returning” option. this means that dealing with funeral arrangements, identifying bodies, and putting her parents’ affairs in order were not responsibilities she handled, since that would’ve entailed a return to the town she detested. instead, by the time lily turned eighteen, petunia was already married to vernon dursley and had decidedly left her life there behind. for all intents and purposes, she would’ve considered herself a dursley first and an evans not at all.

we’ll discuss this chapter of the sisters’ lives later; for now, it’s enough to have a rough idea for when petunia’s parents died. not much other information was ever provided about the parental evans, but here’s what we know:

initially, when the girls were younger, mrs. evans told lily she wasn’t allowed to use her magic. after the revelation that lily’s magic made her special, entitling her to attend a wizarding school and study to become a competent witch, both parents were thrilled. the magical world enchanted them both, and lily receives nothing but support from her parents after her acceptance to hogwarts.

young petunia could already identify class, drawing contrasts and divides between her family and the snapes. one of the first insults she punished severus with was a comment on his poor-quality clothing. she knew he came from an impoverished neighborhood and that hers was better, even if not by much. she used that information to immediately cast him in a negative light. she also had the social awareness to ensure no one was around to see lily’s magic, and to detect the insult in the word “muggle” without understanding what it meant. lily being nine years old, petunia would’ve been around twelve, so this social awareness and prideful classist view likely came from her home environment.

while the evans are hardly likely to have been as bad as the malfoys, this is evidence that petunia’s parents placed a great deal of importance on social status. lily only ever mentions her friends questioning her friendship with snape, not her family, so her parents weren’t so extreme to the point of outright forbidding her association with people of a lower status. it’s possible petunia’s younger years saw an economical shift downwards for her parents, leaving her with great pride and a snobbish attitude even once her circumstances turned less fortunate, while lily only ever remembers those circumstances.

moving forward to the next canon information we have concerning petunia, she left cokeworth for london, where she took a typing course. our assumption here is that she left after graduating secondary school, around the age of eighteen or so. once she had her diploma and was a legal adult, she would’ve moved out as soon as possible, to escape the life she hated and the family that favored lily and her magical gifts. assuming she and lily are three years apart, she would’ve left most likely the summer before lily’s fifth or sixth year at hogwarts.

from there, she found an office job, likely at grunnings, the drilling company where vernon was a junior executive, since they met at work. he proposed while lily was in her seventh year at hogwarts, so the engagement took place after lily left for school on september 1st, 1977. they were married by the end of the year and settled into a house together (as petunia tells harry in the first deathly hallows movie that she’s lived in that house for twenty years, during the summer of 1997). this is another part of her story that makes knowing the date of her parents’ death important; because we’ve determined they didn’t die until after january the following year, we know mr. and mrs. evans would have attended petunia’s wedding.

at some point before the wedding but after the proposal, petunia told vernon about lily’s magic. the couple met lily and james for dinner at a muggle restaurant, though the meeting didn’t end well. still, both were invited to the wedding, despite lily pointedly not being made a bridesmaid. afterwards, petunia appears to have sent a present for christmases, and likely birthdays as well, considering that she and vernon generally gave harry at least some type of horrible present for his birthdays. it’s probable lily returned the favor, sending christmas and birthday presents to petunia.

despite being invited, petunia and vernon didn’t attend lily’s wedding. around the autumn of 1979, both evans sisters became pregnant. petunia’s son dudley was born on june 23rd, 1980, just a month before harry’s birth on july 31st. harry’s birth announcement was the last communication petunia ever received from lily (besides the christmas presents they exchanged) before lily’s death the following year on october 31st, 1981. petunia wasn’t aware of her passing until november 2nd, when she discovered her sister’s son on her doorstep along with a letter from albus dumbledore explaining the circumstances of lily’s death and harry’s need for her as his guardian.

this is where the story picks up ten years later in the original series. this is also where our understanding of petunia’s life turns entirely from evidenced speculation and canon to headcanon and theory, unfortunately. in later additions to this post, we’ll explore our theories on petunia’s parents, as well as how her dynamic with lily changed through the years and how her character serves as a mirror to severus’s. already, we’ve made a lot of speculations based on british law, rowling’s writing, and petunia’s character, as well as lily’s, but this first part of her timeline will serve as the canon upon which we’ll be building the rest of her character. any ideas and suggestions for the evans family are more than welcome!

*obviously, this interpretation leans heavily on two large assumptions. firstly, we’re relying on the transcription of the interview having correctly recorded her words, as the link to the original video source is broken. secondly, this conclusion also requires trusting that rowling implements this basic rule of grammar into her everyday speech. any native speaker of english could probably tell you that in day-to-day language, we don’t tend to follow every single rule 100% of the time, as long as our basic meaning can be understood. considering our other deliberate deviations from her canon, however, I think it’s enough to acknowledge the reasoning behind our interpretation of her words and move on.

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #400

“it’s an age-old story: the first will be last, and the last will be kings  /  the small will be great, and the great will be weak”

Who was the last person you sincerely thanked? My mom; I thank her every time she cooks for me/us, and I really do mean it. What’s the longest you’ve ever stayed as a guest at someone’s house? Somewhere around a month. What was the last thing to really surprise you? My brother has a fiancee and is having another son! :') Have you ever found out that you have been sleep walking? No. Have you ever tried making something from one of those short cooking videos? How did it turn out? No. Have you ever written a review for a product you bought online? No. What was the last thing you had the urge to do? Idk about anything notable. Is there anyone you feel that takes you for granted? No. What is the last thing you had a craving for? A donut. Do you ever read the comments on social media posts? Sometimes. What was the last thing you felt like you wasted money on? It's so rare that I buy things with my own cash that I really don't know. What was the last thing you wanted to buy, but couldn’t afford? Venus' terrarium on my own. Mom has to help me with buying it. What is a recipe you’d like to try to make for yourself? I don’t cook, so. What goes through your mind when you look back at old photographs of yourself? More than anything, I get sad over how much weight I've gained. I was so healthy once upon a time. It also just makes me miss my childhood. What was the subject matter of the last email you sent? I believe it was about setting up an appointment with my therapist. How do you get your news? Facebook articles, really. What do you think about lizards? I love them! I was that kid that always tried to catch them when I saw 'em. Now I just observe because I don't want to terrify them by trying to pick them up. Have you ever done consumer testing (testing products before they come out on the market)? If not, would you ever want to? No, but sure, I'd do it. Have you ever received anesthesia or morphine? Both. The time I received morphine, it did jack-all for me. If you had to choose which video game to be in, which would it be? Hmmm... I would say Azeroth from World of Warcraft, but too much shit goes down, ha ha. Perhaps the top of the temple in Shadow of the Colossus? So long as I could have someone I love with me, I'd be in Heaven. Although... I doubt there's WiFi there, so I might drop that answer, lmfao. I really don't know. Between the two, would you rather live in a place where it’s only night or where it’s only day? Day. I need the natural light of day sometimes, and if I wanted to sleep, I could just find shade. If you had to be an actor/actress in a movie, what genre of the movie would you be best at? Fantasy. Out of fire, earth, water, wind, light, and dark, which element appeals the most to you? Dark. What’s one thing that you wish was real? Friendly dragons, haha. Is there anything (show, comedian, etc.) that you constantly quote or make references to? No. What’s your favorite Disney Channel movie? I have absolutely no idea. I don't even remember almost any of them. What’s your favorite holiday? Christmas. Do you ever have to do yard work? No. Do you have any live versions of songs in your music software? Yes. Did/do you listen to Britney Spears songs? Yeah, sometimes. I genuinely don't mind her. Do you still make Christmas lists? Yeah, because I'm asked to. Do you watch the show Dexter? Never seen it. Which musical instrument do you think sounds the prettiest? I'm torn between the violin, harp, and piano. Is your mom or dad the older parent? Mom, by a year. Do you and your parents like any of the same bands/singers? A lot, actually. Is there any food in your bedroom? What? I have these tictacs I keep in my purse in case of a dry mouth. Medication makes me have that severely, and my psychiatrist recommended me to always have a hard candy available to suck on since it forces salivation. Do you know anyone who has road rage? Who? My younger sister, badly. How far away do your grandparents live from you? They're all dead, but they lived in far away states. Do you know anyone who wants to be the president one day? No. What kinds of chips are in the cupboards? None. It's a bad idea to keep chips in this house, haha. Do you have your mom's or dad's hair? Well, I was born with dirty blonde hair like my dad, but my hair is thick and more similar in color now to my mom's before the cancer completely drained the color. If you were going out with your celebrity crush, what would you wear? OH MY GOD LA;KSDJFAKLWJE I DON'T KNOW I LOOK AWFUL IN EVERYTHING. Have you ever cried when a teacher retired? Teared up, yes, multiple times. Do you swear and yell while playing video games? I might swear under my breath, but that's the extent of it. If you were adopted, would you want to know? At this point in my life, I don't really know. I kinda find myself leaning towards no. Has a best friend ever ditched you for a girlfriend/boyfriend? Pretty much. Do your pets chase after bugs? Roman sure does. When’s the last time you were so excited you couldn’t sleep? Why? I want to say that was the night before I was getting my tattoo redone. Do you own any flip-flops? Yeah, considering they're like... all I wear, ever. Did you ever really believe that the stork brought babies? I don't believe so, no. Have you ever had a dream about sleeping with a celebrity? (You don’t have to give details.) It was the only lucid dream I've ever had and I'm not complaining about it lmao. Have you ever had a dream that upset you or made you cry? Oh I'm sure. Has anyone ever told you that they needed you? Do you think they meant it? Not to my recollection, no, and I don't believe you should ever adopt that mentality and say that to someone. Do you own a laser? No. Is there anything you like to put on a sandwich, that some might find odd? Nah. I do enjoy a layer of potato chips on some sandwiches, like ham and cheese, but I know that's like an actual thing some people just like. What colour are the shoes you wear most often? They're black flip-flops. When was the last time you were required to put on a mask? In the morning when I go to the TMS office. And what colour was the last mask you wore? It's one of those normal blue and white medical ones. The last time you were in a queue, what were you waiting for? To see the woman who would give me my APAP mask. Have you had your Covid vaccine yet? Which one, if you have? Yes, Moderna. If you've had your vaccine, did you experience any side effects? None for the first shot, but my second shot bruised badly and I felt seriously shitty the following day. I was perfectly fine afterwards, though. Can any of your friends sing well? Which one has the nicest singing voice? Sara has an AMAAAAAAAAAAAZING voice. When was the last time you wore make-up, if ever? What shades/colours? I don't even remember, but I'm sure it would've been black. What is something that seems popular, but doesn't interest you personally? Fashion, various TV shows, etc... Are you clumsy or graceful? I am STUPID clumsy. Like it's just ridiculous. Do you like gloves? I like fingerless gloves. Does your sibling(s) have braces? My older sister did as a kid. Do you ever say "OMG" in person? No; it's a random pet peeve of mine, "Internet talk" irl. What was the last thing your parents got mad at you for? Dad, no idea. Mom, uhhhh. Not "mad," but "annoyed" probably better fits how she felt about me leaving the heating pad I use for my cramps on the floor. Do your pets have favorites? I'm definitely Roman's favorite seeing as he is my literal shadow, and I'd assume Venus trusts me more than anyone else, but realistically, she's in contact with almost no one else, so. Who was your first boyfriend/girlfriend? Why did you break up? The first guy to have the title of "boyfriend" was Aaron, and I broke up with him 'cuz I just wasn't as romantically into him as I thought I might be. It was puppy-dog love, and I feel I knew that. My first *real* boyfriend was Jason, who broke up with me because my mental illnesses began to affect his wellbeing. Which I now accept is fine, but he seriously coulda gone about things differently... When was the last time you got a new bed? Is your bed comfy? Late into my teenage years; idk the exact age and don't feel like doing the math. Teddy kept peeing on the bed to where it was just unrecoverable and needed to be thrown away. My current bed is comfy enough. What kind of games did you play on the playground when you were younger? My absolute favorite was digging tunnels in the sandbox, pretending to be a meerkat. The only trend I ever created, haha, seeing as my classmates got into it with me, allowing us to make huge tunnel systems. It was really cool. I also liked playing 4 Square (which I now don't even remember the details of) on the basketball court. Do you remember the first time you ever drove a car? Who were you with? Yeah, my driver's ed instructor and the guy who was on the same route as me. What’s your favorite thing to do when drunk? Would you do this sober? N/A Are you a fan of dogs? Do you have any as pets? I'm picky with dogs. I like interacting with any dog, but I don't plan on ever owning another. I don't like how hyper they can be, and I prefer more independent pets, like cats. Basically, I'll be hyped to meet a random dog on the street and give it some loving, but I don't want to take it home to be my own. Are you an elitist (even a little bit) when it comes to anything? What? No. I cannot stand elitists. Is just being fond of something enough, or does it take more than that to be a ‘real fan’? And I hate gatekeeping in fandoms even more. There are varying intensities of "being a fan," but regardless, if you like something, congratulations, you're a valid, "real" fan. What type of fabric is most comfortable for clothing? I don't pay attention to this, honestly. If you wear one – bras with or without a wire? I'll wear either, but without is way more comfortable. If you wear one – are you able to find cute bras in your size? God no. What length do you like your shorts to be? I don’t wear shorts. What was the last disappointing movie you saw? Warcraft, but not because it was bad. I've talked before how in the theater, the orcs' voices were just so fucking baritone that I couldn't understand almost ANYTHING they said. Kinda ruined the experience for me. What was the last disappointing book you read? Don't recall. Do you ever watch compilation videos? Of what? Very rarely. If I do, they're mostly of animals being silly. Favorite Disney character who isn’t royalty? Probably Dory, but idk. There's WAY too many options to fish through.

[purplesurveys]

1188

Have you ever shared a shower or bath with someone as an adult? I did it a couple of times with a past girlfriend, but I’m honestly not a fan of it unless I’m somewhere with a serious lack of bathrooms and it’s the only choice available. I like my space when I get myself all cleaned up lol.

What kind of pizza toppings do you like?  Different kinds of cheeses do it for me, really. If I absolutely have to pick toppings, I do like bacon, bell peppers, barbecue chicken, or onions on my pizza.

When did you first take a shot of alcohol?  I have no idea, actually. Maybe 20? 21? I never noted the year down. I don’t even know the first shot I ever took...if I had to guess, it was probably tequila.

Did you babysit for money when you were in middle school? No. I babysat because I was the eldest daughter and granddaughter in an Asian household, haha.

Who is your favorite band? How long have they been?  Paramore; 17 years, have loved them for 14.

Has the last person you kissed ever been to your house? Many times. She used to be a welcome guest.

Have you ever been to a spa?  I don’t think I’ve ever entered one, no. There’s been no reason to in the past.

When talking on the phone, do you place it against your left or right ear? Right. I don’t remember ever placing it on my left, come to think of it.

What’s your favourite Lunchables meal?  Idk, I’ve never had them. American thing, I’m guessing.

Do you like Bob Marley?  I don’t hold an opinion on him; I’ve never tried listening to his music.

Have you ever eaten at Golden Corral? Nope, I don’t know what that is, either.

Do you sit and eat dinner at the same table with your family?  Yes, we have dinner together every night. We’ve been doing it since the start of the pandemic; and, with that, since my dad has had to stay at home since he can’t report to work anyway considering the situation. I imagine we’d be back to eating separately once he can report back to his job.

Are you listening to any music right now? If so, what are you listening to?  Yeah, I’m listening to Map of the Soul: 7 and UGH! just started playing. This is such a good FUCKING album it’s absolutely insane how good it is. Whatever spirit possessed BTS throughout 2019 to produce an album this unbelievable wasn’t playing.

Who was the last person to make you genuinely smile?  Hobi, since I rewatched the Run BTS segment where he called Conan O’Brien ‘Curtain.’

Is there something you want to say to someone but can’t/won’t? No.

Do you like men who have a sensitive side?  I think it’s nice when anyone has a sensitive side and isn’t ashamed to be in touch and expressive with their emotions. Doesn’t have to apply to just guys.

Have you ever tried to get someone into a certain band/artist?  I don’t do that with any of my interests because I don’t want to potentially irritate or bore someone, or to potentially face the disappointment I’d feel when they don’t end up being enthusiastic about what I’m into. I’m totally okay with my interests just being My Thing, no need to drag other people into them.

Have you ever carved you and someone else’s initials into a tree?  Nopes.

Do you like Dairy Queen?  Just some items, like their Oreo Frappe or whatever it’s called. I’m not a big fan of ice cream cakes and I’ve never really explored their Blizzards.

Is there anyone you know with an amazing personal success story?  Andi.

Is there a song in a different language that you can sing? Well Filipino is my first language rather than English, so yes.

How do you feel about bands that use pyrotechnics in live concerts?  I’ve never experienced this other than One Direction using fireworks at the end of their concert here (and they weren’t launched from the stage either, but somewhere backstage), so I don’t really know what to feel about this other than they should just make sure they’re following safety protocols and standards to avoid mishaps.

Ever fallen down a hole?  I don’t think so.

Do you like bananas?  Not so much, but I don’t passionately hate it as much as I do other fruits. I do like some dishes that incorporate banana, like banana bread and banoffee pie. Recently I discovered Korean banana milk and it ended up tasting pretty good!

How long do you normally spend in the shower? Not even 10 minutes, usually. I've never understood how people can take such long showers. < Yeah, pretty much on the same page. The only times I take a while is if I feel like shaving, but otherwise I shower quickly. Maybe around 4–7 minutes at most.

Have you ever been a featured member on any website?  I don’t think that ever happened, at least when having featured members was still a thing.

Have you ever had any weird pets?  Nope.

Are you currently talking to/texting/instant messaging anyone?  I am not. Though I know I have unread messages from Andi...I just don’t feel like checking them right now.

Have you ever experienced insomnia?  Only when I was a teenager. It’s been a while since I’ve faced any trouble in trying to fall asleep.

Do you like egg nog? I’ve never had a chance to try it but it sounds delicious, and I would definitely take a sip the first opportunity I get.

Would you ever wear Converse with a prom/formal dress?  I don’t see why I would have to but if it’s just for funsies, it sounds pretty harmless so yeah, I would.

Do you prefer hot chocolate with or without marshmallows?  Withoooooooooout. I’ve never understood marshmallows.

How many different people of the opposite sex have you cried over?  In a romantic sense, none. But I’ve cried for other reasons, like when I mourned over my grandpa and Nacho.

Would you rather be a surgeon or mortician?  Surgeon, since there’s a tiny part in me that had always wanted to take up med school.

Would rather be a musician or a painter? Painter, if anything. I’m not creative by any means, but I feel like I’d enjoy a lot more freedom with painting.

Would you rather write your own book or make your own movie? [continued from last night] Write my own book I suppose, but I could only work with non-fiction. I’d embarass myself if I had to write something not based off of real life.

At home, do you have a trampoline? No. But this reminds me of when we’d go to Rita’s place to have meetings whenever we couldn’t hold them in school. She’s the richest one out of all of us, lives in a very old money village, big-ass house, big-ass kitchen, big-ass receiving areas (plural)...and they also have a nice trampoline in their big-ass yard. We always used to horse around in there as soon as we were done with our meetings.

When you are about to go to bed, do you put on some sort of noise?  I used to put on a YouTube video that would entertain me enough to feel relaxed and eventually sleepy, but I haven’t done that in the last few weeks. These days I usually look for a fanfic to get absorbed in, then I read until my eyes start feeling heavy.

What is your favorite Christmas movie?  Love Actually or It’s A Wonderful Life.

And what about your favorite Christmas song?  It’s Beginning to Look A Lot Like Christmas makes me feel festive and fuzzy.

What is your ultimate favorite stocking stuffer?  My family doesn’t really keep up with this tradition. I remember how our grandparents would fix up stockings for us when we were much younger, but they were usually filled with candy. 

After Halloween, do you sort out all of your candy into little piles?  I never collected candy for Halloween.

When you listen to music with headphones, do you keep the volume low enough to hear surrounding noise faintly, or do you blast it?  Depends. The rare times I’m working and do feel like putting headphones on, the volume has to be just decent enough so I can still focus. If I’m not doing anything else or at least doing something that doesn’t involve too much ~brain activity~, I like my music very loud.

What did you have for breakfast this morning?  It doesn’t really count as breakfast but I’m currently finishing off the remaining two pieces of McNuggets I got last night. 10 pieces is apparently too many for my appetite, haha.

What’s the largest animal you’ve ever had as a pet?  Cooper has probably been the biggest and heaviest so far.

Do you own any kind of helmet?  We have a bike helmet here at home, but it’s not exclusively mine.

Out of everything currently in your refrigerator, what food or drink is your favorite?  I don’t memorize the fridge so I can’t tell you my favorite food that’s currently in it; as for drink, I just stick to cold water.

What’s the worst injury you’ve ever had?  Sprained ankle after I tripped at one of the parking lots in school.

Do you like the taste of cough syrup?  I’ve never had it.

What is something you like to have conversations about?  People with experiences vastly different from mine, because it lets me explore different perspectives. It’s why I always look forward to family reunions with one of my uncles - who’s a foreigner, from a very different country - since he’s able to share a lot of fun and reflective stories about his life and stuff he did in his youth, stuff I never got to experience and live through.

What all is in the trunk of your car?  The trunk used to be my trash can lmao, back when I was still driving everyday. My mom has since cleared it out since the beginning of the pandemic; I believe only a laptop bag is sitting there now.

Do you ever put fruit on your cereal? No. I don’t even eat either.

Is your heat or air conditioning currently on?  My electric fan is. I don’t turn on the aircon until the evening.

Have you ever fallen off of a horse?  Nopes.

Which do you value more, your appearance or your intelligence?  Both are important to me.

When was the last time you drove something other than a car or truck?  I don’t remember. I’ve only ever driven cars.

Were your grandparents present when you were born?  Neither set wasn’t in any of the photos from my birth, so I don’t think so...? My maternal grandparents definitely wouldn’t have been present, since my parents had been living in Manila then.

If you drink/smoke, how often do you do these things?  I vape...pretty much all day. I’m doing it while taking this survey. As for drink, I would say 1-2 times a month. Usually after a particularly grueling shift.

What do you think of fast food?  I love it. Unabashedly. I just don’t have them a lot because I don’t find it filling and the quality is obviously lower; but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t like the way fast food tastes.

What website do you spend the most time on and why?  Google Suite, if it counts. I work 5 days a week; it’s pretty much an extension of me at this point.

What’s the most amount of time you’ve spent online? Is this usual for you?  All day. I’m always using the internet to do things. I used to be embarrassed of it, but these days I feel like having a connection is virtually an essential.

When it comes to travel, what kinds of places intrigue you most? Museums, historical sites, cultural sites, and spots where they show you how they do practices native to the place. I’ve always been about immersing myself in the cultures of the places I visit.

What is the farthest you’ve walked in one day and what made you do it?  I remember having to walk for a very very very VERY long time when we were in Bali - my family wanted to explore more of the city - and the weather wasn’t cooperative at all, so I ended up feeling super cranky. I remember also walking around a lot in Shanghai, but that was a slightly better experience since the city was incredibly lively and there were a lot of things to see and stop at; not to mention the weather was also kinda pleasant. The cold was biting but I would always rather be too cold than walk around with sweat-soaked clothes.

What is something important that’s often on your mind lately?  Our financial situation what with Covid affecting both my parents’ jobs. We get by enough for me not to worry too much, but I also hope my dad can get called back to his ship soon just so I can finally exhale with relief.

What about something unimportant, but you can’t stop thinking about it?  My workplace recently introduced this workout challenge thingy for the month of May that we’re invited to join to encourage us to get fit and healthy. I get notifications whenever someone’s able to exercise for the day and it makes me feel super pressured hahahaha. Since I don’t wanna be known as a killjoy co-worker I know I’ll have to take part in it, which I will start on later.

Do you like oatmeal? If so, what kinds of things do you like in it?  No. Back in elementary my grandma made me eat oatmeal every day for breakfast before heading to school, so I don’t ever want to have another bowl of it.

What was going on the last time you felt nostalgic?  My family and I were having a conversation during dinner last night and for some reason it eventually veered towards mine and my sister’s experiences from our first school and how we managed to get up at 5 AM everyday, have classes from 7 AM–4 PM, then get home from anywhere between 5–6 PM for 14 years straight. How tf did we do that and never complain???

How much attention do you pay to the movements of the stars and planets, and do you believe they influence anything?  None.

What is the most difficult or involved video game you’ve ever played?  While I love watching playthroughs, I am not skilled at video games at all and in most video games I’ve played I never made it past the first mission, unless I was playing a Nintendo game that’s already marketed for kids in the first place lol.

Which accent do you find most sexy, alluring or appealing?  There’s a certain British accent I find very pleasant to listen to, but since I know there are a lot of variations I’m just not sure which one it is. I guess an accurate point of reference would be Hugh Grant’s or Florence Pugh’s accent.

Which accent do you find most annoying, disturbing, or bothersome?  None of them.

Can you cry on cue? Is it any kind of useful?  Nope.

Does it take you a while to actually get jokes?  Sometimes.

Can you wear socks to bed or does it annoy you?  I don’t really like the feeling of socks, so no. I find them a bit itchy, and too tight.

Have you ever bleached your hair?  Never done it before.

Do you like jelly beans?  Erm, it would depend on the flavor, I guess. But they aren’t so much my snack of choice. The texture is a bit weird.

Do you have trouble sleeping when it’s storming?  Not at all, I feel a lot cozier when it’s raining hard.

Who was the last person you know that graduated? (high school or college)  Sofie posted her graduation photo not too long ago, so probably her.

Were you happy or sad when you found out your babysitter was coming?  I never had a babysitter because I was the babysitter.

Did you have a boyfriend in kindergarten?  No. I went to an all-girls school, so I didn’t even get to interact with a lot of boys until the middle of high school.

Did you ever read the Magic Treehouse series?  Nope.

Who was your best friend in elementary school?  Angela. I was also friends for a long time with a girl named Jaynie, with whom I actually started to reconnect ever since she found out I was now into BTS. I find it so cool; I don’t think I’ve talked to her since the 2nd grade, 15 years ago.

Did you ever watch The Land Before Time movies?  I didn’t.

Did you collect anything when you were a kid? Stickers. I'd put them on my dresser everywhere to the point it was absolutely covered. < Literally this entire answer; I don’t have any clue how my overly neat mom managed to never spank me for destroying her closet. I also liked collecting Pokemon cards and pogs even though I never knew how to use them. It just felt nice having large stacks of them lol.

Did you get an allowance?  Not until high school. My grandma (and eventually househelp, when we moved) fixed up packed lunches for me and my siblings. When my mom decided to stop having house helpers at home, that’s when she started giving us an allowance to buy recess and lunch ourselves.

Were you into American Girl dolls?  I was never into dolls in general. Since my sister and I were the only girls at home, we were surrounded by toys marketed for boys and that’s what I enjoyed playing with more.

Were you friends with your childhood neighbors?  We played with the neighborhood kids every afternoon but I wouldn’t call them friends. I was a very shy kid and I found them too rowdy for my liking, especially the boys.

What was your biggest fear when you were a kid?  Flying cockroaches. It’s still one of them.

Did you ever play the "Reader Rabbit" computer games?  I don’t think so.

Did your parents let you drink soda growing up? I’m pretty sure they would’ve allowed me to, but I just never liked the feeling of fizzy drinks so I never drank soda anyway.

What was your favorite kind of cake as a kid?  I think I liked mocha sponge cakes growing up, but that has changed now.

[mimixeu]

⟨  AMANDA  ZHOU.    CIS  FEMALE.    SHE  /  HER.  ⟩    though  the  mist  might  prevent  some  from  seeing it,    MEMPHIS    “  MIMI  ”    YIU    is  actually  a  descendant  of    A R E S.    it’s  still  a  question  of  whether  or  not  the    TWENTY - FIVE    year  old    EAST  ASIAN  STUDIES  MAJOR    from    SEATTLE,    WASHINGTON    has  taken  after  their  godly  parent  completely,    but  the  demigod  is  still  known  to  be  quite    OBSERVANT    &    SELF - SABOTAGING.

                  +    DOSSIER.      +    PINTEREST.      +    PLAYLIST.

PERSONALITY.

most  people  find  mimi  to  be  quite  unassuming  at  first  glance.    from  a  distance,    she  is  twinkling  eyes  and  a  pearly - white  smile,    fun  to  be  around  and  ever  so  easy  to  talk  to  ;  but  the  closer  one  tries  to  get  to  her,    the  farther  away  she  runs.    you  see,    she  is  used  to  getting  hurt,    and  her  powers  being  at  the  heart  of  it  all.    with  time,    she  has  learned  the  art  of  self - preservation,    and  has  sworn  to  never  let  anybody  get  too  close  to  her    ⸺    lest  they  end  up  turning  on  her,    too.    it’s  this  self - preservation  that  has  made  her  exceptionally  good  at  observing  people,    figuring  them  out,    learning  their  secrets.    she  knows  more  about  other  people  than  they  ever  do  her.

          it’s  no  surprise,    therefore,    that  envy  is  an  emotion  that  comes  exceptionally  easy  to  her,    often  greeting  her  like  an  old  friend.    seeing  large  groups  of  friends  around  campus  often  makes  mimi  yearn  for  more,    for  uncomplicated  companionship  and  untainted  relationships,    but  she  knows  it’s  far  safer  to  keep  the  world  at  arm’s  length.    it  doesn’t  mean  that  she  doesn’t  long  to  be  loved  and  wanted  by  her  peers.    the  same  goes  for  her  romantic  life.    she  has  never  fallen  in  love,    never  had  a  relationship  last  long  enough  for  her  to  become  attached.    she  prefers  serial  dating  to  long - term  relationships  because  it  means  she  has  control,    but  mimi  romanticises  the  idea  of  something  more  stable,    one  unaffected  by  her  fears  of  rejection.

          despite  her  self - sabotaging  ways,    mimi  is  known  to  be  very  loyal  towards  the  people  she  does  keep,    of  those  who  have  outlasted  the  fragile  fury  and  rocky  turbulence.    (    after  all,    if  they  are  to  be  in  her  life,    then  she  might  as  well  protect  them  with  her  entire  being.    )    she  is  also  relatively  good - humoured  and  likes  having  a  laugh,    takes  pleasure  in  making  people  smile.    it  is  a  smile  that  hides  her  resentment  for  ares,    as  she  firmly  believes  that  she  could  have  had  something  resembling  a  normal  life,    even  vaguely,    if  it  were  not  for  her  relation  to  him.    unlike  some  of  her  peers,    she  does  not  hold  her  godly  parent  to  high  regard.

FACTS.

the  maternal  side  of  mimi’s  family  hails  from  the  island  of  hong  kong,    just  off  of  china.    back  in  the  seventies,    when  mimi’s  mother,    jingfei,    was  still  just  a  child,    they  immigrated  to  the  united  states  where  they  first  lived  in  augusta,  ga,    before  settling  in  seattle,    wa,    where  mimi’s  uncle  was  born.

mimi  is  fluent  in  english  and  greek,    as  well  as  cantonese  as  mandarin,    as  she  was  taught  to  speak  both  languages  from  a  young  age.    of  the  two,    she  prefers  to  speak  cantonese.

in  her  early  years,    mimi’s  mother  was  an  air  hostess  who  frequently  travelled  for  her  job.    this  was  how  she  met  ares.    she  had  no  plans  to  quit  her  job,    not  even  when  she  learned  that  she  was  pregnant  with  what  would  become  their  daughter,    and  continued  to  work  through  her  pregnancy  for  as  long  as  it  was  allowed.    for  the  formative  years of  mimi’s  life,    she  was  essentially  raised  by  her  grandparents,    only  seeing  her  mother  when  she  was  able  to  take  leave.

as  a  teenager,    mimi  found  herself  as  camp  elektra  in  silverlake,    ca,    and  it  was  the  only  place  she  felt  like  she  could  fit  in  for  the  longest  time.

she’s  been  a  student  at  eonia  university  for  five  years,    and  has  bounced  between  several  majors.    currently,    she  is  majoring  in  east  asian  studies,    but  she  has  also  studied  architecture  and  marine  biology  in  the  past.

stable  relationship    ?    never  heard  of  her.    due  to  her  abilities,    mimi  doesn’t  have  very  many  close  friends.    she  won’t  allow  it.    instead,    she  prefers  to  keep  many  acquaintances,    and  probably  knows  at  least  one  person  in  every  course  /  house.    she  is  very  good  at  remembering  faces  and  learning  names.    even  if  she  doesn’t  have  a  lot  of  people  she  considers  to  be  friends,    she  still  very  much  likes  to  make  an  effort.

mimi  met  her  father  once.    he  appeared  at  the  gates  of  camp  elektra  and  was  immediately  charged  into  by  his  fourteen - year - old  daughter.    in  front  of  a  crowd  of  young  demigods,    she  created  a  scene,    demanding  answers  from  ares,    questioning  him  of  her  existence  and  his  motivations.    it  was  a  rage  like  she  had  never  felt  before.    she  told  him  she  hated  him,    and  though  she  was  told  off  for  disrespecting  one  of  the  gods,    she  thinks  he  knows  she  means  it.

POWERS.

limited  necromancy    :    she  remembers  seeing  ghosts  as  a  kid.    sometimes  they  had  faces,    but  more  often  than  not,    they  were  blurred  figures    ⸺    like  silhouettes  behind  a  glass  pane.    they  never  stayed  for  long,    but  sometimes  they  would  come  to  her,    whispering  enticing  words  and  asking  for  her  help.    every  adult  she  ever  told  dismissed  them  as  creations  from  an  overactive  child’s  mind  rather  than  spirits  that  genuinely  existed.    it’s  not  an  ability  she’s  particularly  hone,    and  over  the  years  it  appears  to  have  waned  significantly,    but  mimi  still  sees  them  sometimes,    in  the  dead  of  night  when  no  one  is  watching.    she’ll  glance  out  of  the  corner  of  her  eye  and  perhaps  a  blurred  figure  smiles  at  her  through  the  dark.

odikinesis    :    from  a  young  age,    people  have  always  acted  peculiarly  around  her.    teachers  would  be  impatient  for  no  reason,    often  picking  on  her  when  she  was  late  or  forgot  her  homework,    and  even  friends  and  family  members  had  a  habit  of  becoming  noticeably  more  irritable  in  her  presence.    mimi  never  understood  why.    whatever  she  did  to  make  it  up  to  them,    it  only  seemed  to  make  matters  worse.    as  a  child,    it  wasn’t  something  she  necessarily  intended  to  happen,    and  she  slowly  learned  that  if  she  concentrated  hard  enough,    then  it  didn’t  have  to  happen  at  all.    but  more  recently,    she’s  also  realised  that  as  much  as  she  can  put  out  the  coals,    she  is  capable  of  fanning  the  flames,    too.    it’s  become  a  habit  of  hers    ⸺    in  moments  of  pent - up  rage  or  insecurity    ⸺    to  find  people  in  varying  states  of  anger  and  agitation  and  turn  the  volume  up  to  one  hundred.    she  knows  what  she’s  doing  is  wrong,    and  it  always  leaves  her  with  an  overbearing  amount  of  remorse  when  all  is  over.    she’s  lost  plenty  of  friends  as  a  result,    and  always  vows  to  learn  from  it  but  never  does.

other  abilities  :

sonic  scream    :    it  happened  only  once,    when  she  was  a  toddler.    for  hours,    young  mimi  wouldn’t  stop  crying.    she  was  passed  from  relative  to  relative,    each  attempting  to  soothe  and  comfort  her,    but  by  hour  three,    it  was  clear  her  tears  were  not  going  to  relent.    then  it  happened    ⸺    the  tot  let  out  a  terrific  wail.    it  shattered  the  windows,    cracked  the  mirror  down  the  hall.    then  all  at  once,    it  was  over,    the  crying,    the  screaming    ⸺    all  of  it  was  gone.    her  entire  family  was  left  stunned.

telumkinesis    :    while  the  ability  can  be  useful,    it’s  not  one  mimi  chooses  to  use  on  a  regular  basis.    although  she  may  incite  the  occasional  brawl  and  spars  along  with  her  brothers  and  sisters,    she  rarely  involves  herself  in  the  chaos,    thus  she’s  never  found  much  need  for  weapons  outside  of  training.

OUT OF CHARACTER.

hellooooo    !!!!!!!!    I’m  nixie,    24+,    she  /  her pronouns,    from  the  gmt  timezone.    I  heard  about  this  group  from  my  lovely  friend,    who’d  been  hyping  it  up.    I’ve  been  considering  rejoining  groups  for  a  while  since  my  indie  blogs  have  been  stressing  me  tf  out  lately,    so  I  decided  to  join  on  a  whim  and  now  I  am  here  to  bring  you  my  misfortunate  chaos  baby,    mimi  yiu,    who  never  asked  for  any  of  this  but  lost  her  ticket  out  ✌🏼  I’m  SUPER  excited  to  start  writing  with  you  guys    !    feel  free  to  look  through  any  of  the  links  listed  in  this  post  or  on  my  page    !

[beeblebrox-be-damned]

Growth (Parts 7-FINAL)

Dark!Loki x reader TW: birth AN: Welp, this is it my dudes. No worries though, I’ll definitely be writing more drabbles for this universe later on.

Frigga’s private sitting room was beautiful, filled with flowers and fine tapestries and many other elegant things befitting the Queen. She invited you there often, especially while Loki was busy. You became a companion for her. Her kind smile and gentle voice always put you at ease, and she enjoyed your company greatly.

You sat in stretched out upon an intricately embroidered sofa. You had been hesitant to rest your feet upon it, but Frigga insisted upon seeing how swollen your ankles were. Your hand rested upon your belly. Every now and then a small flurry of kicks would assault your palm.

The whole of the royal family had been delighted the first time they witnessed your unborn child moving about. It had been almost surreal to see the slight pushes against your belly, as though the infant was saying hello. That was when it had truly hit home that there truly was a life blossoming inside of you. You had felt the flutters of movement before, but seeing it was breathtaking. You’d teared up several times.

Loki had been quite thrilled as well. He had taken to keeping a hand on you, specifically your rounded belly, at all times, eager to catch a taste of every movement of his child within you. It was a bit irritating, as you never were able to keep his hands off of you when you were near him, but you knew it meant so much to him. The look on his face said enough whenever he felt even the briefest bump.

His favorite activity concerning the movements of your child, by far, was to rest his cheek against your burgeoning abdomen. He would press kisses to the taut skin, speaking against your skin to address the unborn babe. It tickled when he did so, and often left you squirming and laughing. After he’d said enough, he would stay there, still, and wait to feel the caress of a tiny hand or foot from the other side of your womb. Presently, you were unbothered by Loki’s persistent touch. Instead, it was only you and your mother-in-law, along with a few of her maids waiting at hand. Filtered sunlight trickled in through the tall windows. A fire glowed warm in the hearth, a contrast to the chill outside. Winter had just set in, and would likely stay around for long after your child was born. It was fitting, all things considered.

A blanket was draped over your body, its warm fold tucked close to you. Like the temperature outside, you were rather chilled. Since the beginning of your third trimester, you had noticed a definite chill to your body. It wasn’t unbearable, though, and you would much rather be a bit cold than sweating like a pig as Frigga had told you she was when she was bearing Thor. Often at night when the cold would become too intense to sleep, Loki would pull you closer (a considerable feat, since you were always close by his side anyway) and use his seidr to warm his hands to place on your stomach.

Snow was beginning to fall outside, and you watched idly as the flakes twirled down to the ground below. Frigga was sewing, something she was very good at you had discovered, though she wouldn’t allow you to see what it was yet. There was a comfortable silence over the room, and you could hear the crackle of embers in the fireplace. Your hands rested on your belly, supporting a book you had been reading. The snow continued on, drifting lazily through the pleasantly grey sky.

“I wonder,” you murmured, “if there will be enough to enjoy a winter walk in.” There was a fine line between enough snow to enjoy and too little snow. If there was too little, everything would be slushed and muddy, unsuitable to venture out in.

Frigga smiled, looking up at the window to watch the snow along with you. “Dear, you may well freeze if there were. You’re cold enough as it is,” she teased with a kindly grin. Faint crow’s-feet crinkled around her eyes when she smiled. Even aging, she was magnificently beautiful.

You laughed. “I suppose that is a possibility. Perhaps I’d still be able to convince Loki to let me out there regardless.” You placed your book on the end of the sofa, tucking your hands into the blanket. “He’d probably insist I wear every single stitch of clothing I have”

Frigga chuckled. “I would not be surprised. He is quite protective of you, he loves you so.” She   waved over one of her handmaids. “If you would, could you see if the kitchen has any warm tea brewed?” The handmaid smiled and nodded, making towards the door. Frigga turned and called her once more. “And fetch enough for you and the ladies to have too.”

You smiled as you watched the exchange. Frigga’s kindness knew no bounds. You hoped that someday, you would be as loved as she. You admired her greatly and aimed to model your behavior after her. Your mother had died when you were very young, so you’d never had a female to learn from asides from the women of your village. Now, though, you had Frigga, and you were so grateful for her. You truly loved her.

Frigga’s maid returned. She carried a tray with several cups and a pot full of tea. She placed it on a table and carefully poured two cups, handing them to Frigga and then you, and turned and poured some for her and her fellow handmaids. They each thanked Frigga as they took their cups. Frigga waved her hand.

“No need for that. You all serve me well and deserve it, especially on a day like today.” She sipped her tea. You did the same, wrapping your hands around the cup to soak up the warmth. The snow was coming down heavier now. You could see it slowly collecting on the railings of Frigga’s private balcony.

Your child jostled within you, turning over as it would seem. Frigga noticed the slight movement and grinned. “It would seem the little one is quite active today. Perhaps he or she is enjoying the snow,” she said. She reached over and placed her hand against you, drawing back after feeling the child mover once more. “Very active indeed.”

You nodded, rubbing your hand over your belly. “I just hope they calm down before I retire tonight. It is awfully hard to sleep whilst it seems as though they are playing a game of kick with one’s bladder.”

Frigga laughed, her smile gleaming. “Ah yes, I remember that feeling.” She leaned close to you, lowering her voice. “Tell me dear, you aren’t having issues with the other end, are you? I was terribly, ahem, backed-up while I was carrying.”

Your face reddened. “Well, a bit, yes,” you admitted sheepishly. Frigga nodded understandingly, patting your hand.

“Don’t be embarrassed dear, it happens to all women when they’re expecting.” That was another thing you adored about Frigga. She was unashamed to talk about things, even the ones that would normally make you shudder. She had been the source of much of the information on pregnancy that you hadn’t been able to get from your mother.

You leaned back on the sofa, curling your legs toward your belly and tugging the blanket tighter around you. It was quiet for several minutes, save for the crackle of the hearth and the soft murmurings of the maids. Frigga was gracious to them and permitted them to talk amongst each other even while they were attending her. Her kindness towards them was admirable.

As you watched the window, Frigga worked busily with her sewing. Finally, she rested her hand on your shoulder and got your attention. “I was going to save this for after the little one was born, but I can’t help myself.” She handed you an exquisitely made nightdress, small and soft. “I wanted to sew a proper dress, but since we don’t know whether it is a young prince or princess, I figured this would have to do.”

You teared up as you held the well-made piece. Part of you was reeling in amazement; you were holding clothing made by the Queen herself. You wiped at your cheek with one hand as you looked at it. “Frigga-a, it’s beautiful,” you stammered, “thank you…”

The nightdress was white in colour, with delicate gold and green trim. The cloth was soft and warm, perfect for a child born in the winter. The bottom of the gown was long so it would cover the child’s legs entirely for comfort.

Frigga’s hand caressed your’s. “Dear, think nothing of it. You do not know how much joy it brings to me that my son is happily married to such a kind young woman, nor how happy I am to become a grandparent.” She grinned at you. “Rest assured there will be plenty more where that came from,” she winked.

You hadn’t the vaguest idea whether she was referencing the clothing or the child.

You stood with your eyes closed, savoring the crisp chill of winter air. A brief flurry of snowflakes torrented your cheeks, stopping almost as soon as it began as wind blew snow of the tree branches towering above you. 

The snow had fallen relentlessly for two days after it had began while you spent time with Frigga. It had come to a stuttering stop late the night before as you and Loki laid in impassioned throes of hushed pleasure. This morning you had risen early, eager to explore the gardens. It was the first snow of the season and you’d be loath to miss it.

With some minor cajoling, Loki had relented and allowed you to emerge from the warm confines of the palace. The snow crunched crisply under your boots, several inches deep. The path to the garden had been cleared by servants, but the walkways within remained untouched. Even so, you had trudged on.

The trees were blanketed with snow, branches tipped with beads of ice the reflected everything in passing. Statues throughout the expanse were nearly unrecognizable due to the thick sheets covering them. Bushes that had previously shone in the bright reds and golds of autumn were now sparkling white, blinding to the eye when the sun shone upon them.

Deeper in the garden, a pond stood frozen over. The ice was relatively thin, and in some places was masked by dustings of snow that had happened upon the drier areas. Willows circled the glittering scape, their weeping tendrils coated in thin coats of sleek ice. A bench sat back against one of the massive trunks, mostly untouched by the snow. The metal was cold, but you were winded from your albeit short journey. 

You leaned back into the seat, sighing happily. You’d never felt so content, so fulfilled. Your gloved hand caressed the form of your heavily rounded belly beneath the thick cloak you wore upon Loki’s insistence. A flurry of movements met your hand, near the apex of your womb. As the birth of your child grew nearer, you had noticed the repositioning of the infant into its head-down pose.

The movements continued, bringing a soft smile to your face as you gazed out at the garden. You would head in soon, but for now it seemed both you and the baby were enjoying the winter air. 

“Maybe next winter you’ll get to see a snow just like this,” you murmured. “Perhaps in a few years we can take a walk out here together.”

Chilled fingers danced over the back of your neck. You yelped and turned around, nearly falling from the bench. Loki caught your arm, keeping you from slipping. He carefully positioned you on the seat once more and then sat beside you, wrapping his arm around you as he took in the wintery scene.

“The little one is bound to enjoy this weather, I suppose,” he said, smiling. He’d grown much more confidant about his heritage with all the affection you gave him and your occasional insisting upon seeing his true skin. You had loved away almost all of his doubts about himself and his child. His hand rested against your belly, coaxing out a few small movements. A gust of wind brushed his inky hair with snowflakes.

Carefully, you broke of a tendril of the willow branches. With some difficulty from your gloves, you curled it into a circle, twining it around itself. A few beads of ice clung to it still. You rested it carefully a top Loki’s head, smiling at your handiwork. 

“A crown fit for a king,” he said proudly, tilting his chin regally upwards. The sun glinted from the ice upon the tendril, making it shine as though stars rested upon his head in some obscure constellation. 

“My king,” you murmured fondly, resting your head upon his shoulder. He smiled gently down at you, pressing a kiss on your forehead.

“You’ve been out here quite a while, little dove. Perhaps we should get you in to warm those feathers.” He cupped your cheek, his fingers icy but his palms pleasantly warm. 

You parted your mouth to reply, but a sharp pain cut you off. You grunted, squeezing your eyes shut. You’d had a few minor contractions before, one of your body’s ways of preparing, but this felt just slightly more intense. Loki frowned.

“Are you alright?” His voice was wrought with concern. You nodded, brushing the incident off.

“Yes, just a twinge is all.” As soon as the last word had left your mouth, another jolt of pain swarmed your belly and pelvis. You gritted your teeth and waited for the pain to pass. Loki stood rapidly, keeping ahold of your hand tightly. “No, no, it’s okay,” you reassured.

He shook his head. “Come on, we need to get you back inside and warm anyway.” Gripping your elbows, he helped you up. You sighed as he began to help you trudge back.

“I’m sure it’s noth- oh!” You nearly doubled over with a yelp. Loki’s hands never left you. “P-perhaps it’s more than nothing. Warm fluid trickled down the insides of your legs, a sharp contrast to the cold around you. Your breath puffed out visible as you panted.

Loki’s face set in a determined grimace. Taking no heed of the amniotic fluid, he looped one arm under your legs and the other around your back, easily lifting you from the ground. Snow fell from your boots in clumps. He drew you close, briefly pecking your cheek with a kiss. 

“Hold on, dear,” he said as he began walking with grim determination through the snowbound walkway. “We’ll be inside soon.” You tucked your head under his chin, glad the cold did not bother his as you nuzzled your chilled nose against his neck. One of your arms wrapped around your shoulder as you held onto him, another wave of pain coming and going.

Loki pushed open the doors, shouting for a servant to go summon the healers. He left a trail of melting snow as he walked in, heading directly towards the bedroom. As soon as he had laid you upon the bed and drawn back the canopy, a group of healers lead by Eir.

This had been well rehearsed in the days before. The fine sheets of the bed were replaced with a set meant for the birth using Loki’s seidr. The healers had few medical tools, but many herbal pastes and tinctures. The majority of the work would be through Eir and the others’ seidrs.

As the healers prepared, Loki gently stripped you of your heavy winter clothing, draping a sheet over your body afterwards. He stood by you, you smiling. “Soon we will meet or little one, dearest,” he whispered. You fought through another contraction, groaning. As it eased you nodded and gripped Loki’s hand.

Time passed by slowly as you struggled through the agony of birth. The contractions grew more and more frequent, and increasingly painful. The healers worked diligently, keeping you comfortable as possible as the hours dragged on. Loki knelt by your side, giving you water and wiping away the sweat on your brow. He whispered encouragements to you constantly, holding your hand even as pain made you grip his fingers so hard they turned a paler shade than normal.

Through the haze of vice-like contractions, you heard commotion outside the door. Later you learned that Thor had though it would be acceptable to barge in, but was thankfully stopped by Odin and Frigga in time. The royal family had gathered outside, eagerly listening for the first cry.

Just as you felt you were going to pass into unconsciousness, you heard one of the healers exclaim that the child was crowning. Loki held you tightly, coaxing you to push several strong times. Finally, a wail ripped through the room, but not from you.

Eir lifted the newborn, flailing and crying. Even streaked with blood and screaming, you were positive that the child was the most beautiful thing you’d ever laid eyes on. Your tiny son’s back arched and arms waved as he let out his first cry. Eir quickly clipped the umbilical chord and healed the wound, leaving a dimpled bellybutton in its place.

Loki watched transfixed as the healers cleaned the newborn. His eyes brimmed with tears as Eir wrapped the child loosely in a blanket and rested him on your chest. His face was still crumpled as he cried. His skin was a brilliant blue, ridges winding around his tiny form. You touched his face gently, amazed. This was the child you had nurtured within for so many months, here and in your arms. At your touch, he calmed, cries falling into tiny hiccups, then silence.

His eyes opened, squinting as they adjusted to the brightness of his new world. They were as crimson as Loki’s, like rubies set within white opal. Trembling, Loki touched the child’s hand, smiling in awe as the tiny appendage reflexively gripped his finger. The child seemed to examine the two of you, and slowly the blue was replaced with paleness. The child’s eyes shifted as well, the same color as your’s. Tears fell as Loki admired his newborn son.

The healers finished cleaning you and replaced the sheets once more, taking the bloodied one to be washed and stored for the next time. You and Loki spent several minutes in silence, watching the little life you’d created. Loki kissed your sweat-beaded forehead and then cheeks, and finally placed a strong kiss on your lips.

“You’ve made me so happy, little dove, so happy,” he murmured as he pulled away. He stood, reluctantly removing his finger from your infant’s hand. “I’m going to let the other in to meet our little prince,” he said, walking towards the door.

You watched him carefully as he walked away. A deep feeling of unease set within you.

Frigga cooed over the child, her finger’s brushing his cheek delicately. He had fallen asleep quickly after he had calmed down. He would need to be bathed soon, but for now he needed the comfort of his mother after his ordeal. You supposed coming out of a warm and quiet space into the bright, crisp air of the open world would be very frightening.

He tucked his head nearer to your chest, sighing in his sleep. Frigga was eager to hold her new grandson, and you let her without hesitation. She had been nothing but kind to you and you truly felt that she loved you as though you were a daughter to her.

Loki grinned, his hand resting on your shoulder as he perched on the edge of the bed. He watched his mother fawn over his child with a pride and joy that knew no bounds. His son, borne from the wife he loved so greatly, was perfect in his eyes.

The child was perfect to you as well. You were overjoyed to meet the infant you had nurtured within for so long. There was a bond there that could never be shaken. Only a short time of seeing him and you already knew with a certainty that you loved him.

Thor laughed as the infant made a face in response to the eldest prince touching his tiny nose. “Brother, he looks just like you,” he exclaimed. Loki grinned.

Odin nodded in agreement. “Quiet a strapping young boy.”

The infant jumped at the two loud voices, crying out again in the peculiar wail of a newborn. With a sympathetic smile, Frigga gently handed the babe back to you, knowing that the child needed you more than her. She would spend plenty of time with him later, but she knew it was best that he be with his parents now to acclimate. She gathered her eldest son and her husband and herded them out of the room.

“Let’s give the new parents some quiet time, shall we?” she said to cut off Thor’s protests. The heavy door closed and you were left alone with your crying son and the man who had fathered him.

You held the babe close, stroking your fingers over his downy hair. His mouth was open in a full wail, tiny eyes shut tightly. You shushed him gently, but he continued his fussing. Just as you were growing distressed, you noticed he seemed to be rooting at your chest.

Loki seemed to realize this at the same time, and gently pushed the sheets down to expose your swollen breasts. The babe latched on eagerly as you adjusted your hold just as Eir had previously instructed. His suckling was uncomfortable at first as he found what worked and what did not. Soon, he was filling his belly happily with the warm milk, crying abated and forgotten.

You watched him nurse in awe. How could something so tiny know just what to do? The innate ability to feed that he presented, that you knew all babies had, amazed you. So small, and yet he knew how to fulfill his base needs.

Loki moved closer to you, watching intently as the child fed. He rested his hand over yours, fingers sweeping over your skin. “I do believe we are obligated to name him,” he teased in a hushed tone.

A chill swept over your body as he spoke. Something felt off, but you could not place your finger on it. You glanced up at him. “What is your suggestion?” you asked as your eyes wandered over his face, the familiar man seeming daunting to you now. 

He smiled, unaware of your fear and hesitation. “Eluf, of course.”

A wave of anger washed over you as the name left his lips. Everything from before came crashing back. You narrowed your eyes.

“Naming him after a trick?” you asked bitterly. Loki’s brow furrowed.

“Wh- Darling, we discussed this already,” he stammered, confused. Why were you acting up again? You had been behaving so well.

You turned your face away, eyes brimming with tears. “No, you discussed it. I merely was a pawn.”

The combination of the healers’ magic and the hormones coursing through you during the birth had been potent. Your fluctuating bodily chemicals had destabilized the charms Loki had strengthened all those months ago when he had claimed they’d been removed. The healers’ seidr work had done the final blow, ripping away the influence Loki had.

Loki realized this with a horrified frown as he watched your expression towards him change so rapidly. You had been in too much pain during the birth to notice the change, but now it was clear.

He placed his hand on your shoulder. You jerked away, glaring at him. “Haven’t you done enough?” you snapped. This man had used you, breed you like a bitch in heat, forced himself upon-

You paused. Wh-why were you so angry? 

You’d been through this before.

Loki loved you.

“Darling, I think your emotions are playing tricks with you right now,” he said gently. You blinked hazily. The anger that had been so potent a moment ago was melting away like snow in the sun. Warmth. Loki loved you, you could feel that warmth now.

You nodded, leaning against him. “I-I’m sorry,” you sniffled. “I don’t know what came over me.”

He stroked your cheek, rubbing away the tears you hadn’t even realized you’d shed. He kissed your forehead. “It’s alright, little dove,” he cooed, “its okay. Rest, little one.”

Next time, Loki would be more careful. He began to plan as you fell asleep on his shoulder. Your son burbled as he finished feeding, satisfied and full. Loki smiled at him, love for the both of you filling his chest and making his heart constrict just as it had all those years ago when he’d first laid eyes upon you.

After a while, he would begin slowly weakening his spell. You would adjust, truer affection growing. Perhaps you’d really see how much he loved you. By the next birth, you would be free of his seidr.

Free of his seidr, but not free of his influence.

TAGLIST: @jessiejunebug @knuffeltuff@sea040561@alexakeyloveloki@villanellevi@skinny-macncheese@shockwavee @footballiskillingme @the-surviving-revolutionist @1-800-ahh-crap

[inliar]

broken signals

word count: 3.9k

yuto-centric; seungjoon-centric

two years ago, yuto woke up in a field, and now he is a farmer. his past was easy enough to forget, especially considering that he couldn’t even remember it in the first place. but it’s proving to be much, much harder to ignore.

loss one. loss two. seungjoon kind of hates how easily people can be categorized into neat little titles. especially since the people in question are more than just failed missions. he always hopes, deep in his heart, that he’ll find a way to bring them both back. but he’ll settle for one; the one he can actually communicate with.

a/n: 3/3 fics on my ao3 that i forgot to bring to tumblr.

warning: traumatic symptoms

yuto hates night the most, which is why waking up is the best part of his day. when he first started working, one of his grandparents had to come and physically shake him out of his slumber. but, now that his body has gotten familiar with the farm and its customs, he doesn’t need that anymore. his biological clock has taken to waking him up at 4:30 a.m. every day so he can start his chores. as his grandmother would say, the cows wait for nobody.

he doesn’t bother to wash up — he’s going to get dirty again, anyway — and instead changes into less comfortable yet more durable clothes. it’s still dark outside, and he’s too lazy to light a candle, so yuto just sort of mentally crosses his fingers and hopes his shirt isn’t buttoned the wrong way. not like it matters too much here, as the only beings he has to impress at this time are the farm animals, but he’d rather not look like an idiot in the odd chance he actually leaves the property area.

the chores themselves are so systematic they’re almost therapeutic. grab the buckets on the way out to milk the cows. one, two, three, four, and then bring them back in and exchange the full buckets for empty baskets. set the baskets beside the hen cage and go feed the inner barn first, lest the animals riot. fill the horses’ trough with hay. offer a carrot to one of them, and send a well-meaning glare at the other one who always tries to run away whenever he opens the stable. fill the cow’s trough with feed, and pat each of them gently on the nose for a job well done before heading out.

when he arrives back at the hen cage, one of the baskets is gone. sure enough, a familiar figure is crouching inside the cage, slowly yet surely collecting the eggs on the right side of the pen. “i thought i told you that i can do the morning chores by myself, now.” yuto calls, jogging towards the enclosure. “you should be resting, grandpa!”

“hush, child, i’ve been doing this since before you were born.” the old man says, waving a gloved hand in yuto’s general direction. “i know well enough how much work there is in the mornings. i don’t know why you keep insisting on doing it all by yourself.”

“you don’t even know when i was born,” yuto protests, grabbing the remaining basket and entering the enclosure. he squats by the left side of the cage and begins steadily collecting the eggs.

“at my age, trivialities like birth years don’t matter for those as young-looking as yourself.” the old man chuckles as yuto finishes checking the last nest. wordlessly, the old man offers yuto his filled basket.

he takes it with his empty hand and stands up to exit the cage. “is grandma sleeping, at least?” he asks, hopefully, waiting as the old man unlatches the cage.

the old man laughs, this time, a full bellied laugh that echoes across the open plains as he exits the cage. yuto moves one of the baskets to his other arm and single handedly fastens the latch behind himself. “son, i couldn’t stop that woman from doing what she wanted if i tried. knowing her, she’s probably waiting on these eggs to finish breakfast.” the old man says as they start their trek towards the house.

“she’d want to be awake at this time?” yuto asks, incredulously.

“that’s part of it. she’s always been the restless type, hated doing nothing when she could be doing something. but it’s also a habit. like me, and like the fine man you’re shaping up to be—”

at this, yuto smiles.

“—she can’t help but wake up when the birds start singing.” he explains, fondly.

yuto nods. “that sounds about right.” he muses. “at least, from what i know about her.”

“you’ve been here for what, a year now?” the old man asks.

“about two years, i think.” yuto corrects, not unkindly.

the old man exhales in disbelief, his breath forming a short-lived smoky cloud in the morning haze. “that long, already?” he remarks.

a pause. even after all this time, yuto still doesn’t quite know how to talk about his sudden arrival. it’s too strange to ignore, but too delicate to talk about so lightly.

yuto says nothing in return, watching the patterns his breath makes in the brisk air.

“but yes,” the old man continues, sensing the sudden tension in the air and breaking it. “you’ve been here long enough to have figured us out.”

“and i’ll be here for much longer, if you let me.” yuto says, smiling.

“is that so?” the old man asks, a note of pleasant surprise evident in his voice.

“of course? why would i want to leave?” yuto counters.

“well, doesn’t a young man like yourself want to go see the world? i was quite the wanderer myself, back when i was your age.” the old man says, a hint of a nostalgia lingering on his weathered face.

yuto’s smile falters as he tries to tamp down the sudden wave of something. vivid flashes of images flicker through his head, like an unwanted, corrupted slideshow invading the blank screen of his mind. a space station. a train. a meteor storm in the desert. seven white desks in a black room. a museum, at night, with alarms blaring. he shouldn’t know what any of these things are. why does he?

“i think i’ve had enough exploring to last me a lifetime.” yuto murmurs, pensively.

“pardon me?” the old man asks.

yuto shakes his head, breaking out of his trance as the strange moment passes. he plasters what he hopes is a convincing smile on his face. “i-it’s nothing.” he stammers, and then curses inwardly. stuttering is the opposite of casual.

it doesn’t go unnoticed. “are you sure you’re feeling alright, yuto?” the old man asks, concern painted over his features - which quickly morphs into the slightest tint of fear. “are you hearing those voi-”

“no! no, it’s not that, i promise. that was a one time thing, and a long, long time ago. i’m all better now, really!” yuto exclaims, rushing to assure the old man.

he doesn’t look convinced, but at least he doesn’t look afraid anymore. “if you’re sure about it, then.” he says, warily.

a lot of things go unsaid, but yuto understands them, anyway.

-

he hurtles into the abandoned room and frantically rummages through a filing cabinet. he’s already been here for far too long, and time is something he’s never had enough of. but he can’t leave yet. not before he finds it.

yuto doesn’t bother cleaning up after himself. no point if they already know he’s here. he shuffles through a stack of papers on the desk, allowing them to fall clumsily back into a pathetic semblance of a pile. it’s not here. it was supposed to be here. someone found it already.

a flash, and he’s stumbling out of a building. alarms are blaring, red and blue and loud and accusatory. “someone is here”, they seem to scream, insistently. demandingly. “find him, find him, find him.”

he curses and runs faster. spotting an entrance, yuto slips into a secluded alleyway where he’s certain he won’t be followed. yet judging by the hooded figure yuto senses a few feet behind, he couldn’t be more wrong. before the stranger notices, yuto unsheathes his gun. points it to the stranger’s forehead. cocks the trigger.

a flash, and asteroids are falling from the sky. his skin is dry, and his eyes and mouth sting from the dust.

“this is why we sent you back.” a voice says, echoing in his head. it’s hauntingly familiar, in a way yuto knows he should remember. in a way yuto feels like he’s heard countless times before.

“we wanted to change things,” it continues. the air begins to vibrate, the trepidation of oncoming disaster choking out his heart. yuto fights the urge to cover his ears, to collapse onto the ground and scream. “we didn’t know it would end like this.”

the voice resonates in his bones. yuto shivers, feels goosebumps angrily crawl up his skin.

“come back,” it says. it pleads.

yuto frowns, shakes his head as the ground beneath him trembles. dimly, he recognizes that the asteroids must have reached the surface. he gets the funny feeling that, should things have ended differently, he would have died here.

“please.”

-

yuto’s eyes shoot open. it’s not cold, but he’s shivering anyway.

‘no’, he realizes with a start, he’s shaking. his mouth tastes like ash: bitter and dry and unpleasant and frighteningly real. he also sort of wants to cry. it’s instinctive, like his impulse to run away and never come back.

despite having spent an entire night lying down and doing nothing but sleeping, yuto is panting as if he’s run a marathon. (or as if he’s ran into an alleyway. ran to hide. ran to— no).  his heart is racing. everything is dark and uncomfortable and much, much too fast.

‘breathe in, breathe out,’ yuto thinks, begs. he attempts to force his lungs to reset into a normal, functioning pattern. it takes an embarrassingly long time, but he eventually settles into something that can pass as regular.

this is exactly why he hates the night. night is when he sleeps. when he sleeps, he dreams. and his dreams are never quite right. they’re too bright, too loud, too vivid. too real.

yet, yuto muses, the dreams are far better than the voices. with the dreams, he can squeeze his eyes shut and trick himself into ignoring them as soon as the day starts. he can busy himself with farmwork and gardening and chopping firewood to dull the pain. but he can’t ignore the voices. the variety of tones that echo in his head — a baritone drawl, a sunny chirp, a melodic velvet — all tinged with concern and saying the same sorts of things. “come back, yuto. don’t you remember? please?”

“no,” he wants to yell back, “leave me alone!” because he can’t remember. he’s tried and he’s tried, but all he gets are flashes of images that are too fantastical to be real. nothing in the world is as sleek and shiny as the buildings in his recollections. it’s almost like they’re from some sort of fairytale or alternate universe. which is entirely, completely, and utterly impossible.

voices in his head, visions in his dreams. neither are a good sign. yuto genuinely thinks he’s sane, and his grandparents do as well. not that he’s told them anything — all they know of is a single panicked episode he couldn’t hide in front of them — but their approval means the world to him all the same. they found him and took him in when he was nothing but a lost boy in a grass field who couldn’t remember anything but his own name. in yuto’s eyes, they saved his life. and he refuses to confide to them anything that could cause their honourable names to be tainted through association with an insane stranger like himself. that could bring them trouble.

yuto is perfectly functional, if you ignore the fact that he can’t wake up quite right on some days (see: today). but no one else who heard his tale would think the same. it’s why he doesn’t go out often, and prefers to spend his time in the comfortable confines of their property. here, there’s no one new to watch if he has another episode. if he doesn’t want to get thrown into an asylum, or cause his grandparents any more unnecessary concern, he needs to eradicate whatever it is that’s screwing with his head. and if he can’t do that, he needs to be careful. but how much longer can he keep this up for?

he picks up a pillow and mashes it into his face. it’s the wrong kind of dark right now; not the fuzzy dark of dawn, but the black and shrouding dark of nighttime. yuto can afford to sleep a little longer. or, in any case, he can afford to try.

yuto squeezes his eyes shut and pretends that everything is okay.

-

“are you watching his feed again?” hyojin’s voice asks. seungjoon doesn’t bother to turn around.

he feels more than hears hyojin’s footsteps approaching, before two arms grab the back of seungjoon’s chair. hyojin leans over to watch the screen. “stop pushing me down,” seungjoon mutters, swatting blindly behind him.

“i’m only touching your chair?” hyojin protests, grabbing seungjoon’s arms and shoving them down. seungjoon sighs, but acquiesces and stops trying to hit him.

they stay there like that for a moment, sitting or standing, and simply watch the screen. yuto is looking at a pile of freshly picked corn in the candlelight. he picks one up, deftly unshucks it, and places it in a neat little stack that is forming on the side.

“do you want to go get dinner?” hyojin offers, unmoving.

“i’m not hungry,” seungjoon replies, eyes still glued to the screen.

“when’s the last time you’ve eaten?” hyojin asks. seungjoon doesn’t reply.

hyojin hums, tapping a short rhythm where his fingers rest in the chair. “i know you hate it when i say this, but you watching him isn’t going to do anything.” he waits for a reaction, any reaction, but seungjoon remains silent.

“this isn’t part of your job,” hyojin continues. “we have people monitoring him 24/7, and you’re the first person that they notify if anything happens. you’re not allowed to communicate with him while he’s awake, anyway. the CEO himself ordered it, so you don’t have the authority to override it. and we really don’t want a repeat of last time.”

seungjoon pushes his bangs back with his off hand and exhales, shutting his eyes. right, last time.

an inhumane screaming noise, loud and painful and entirely yuto.

an elderly couple crouching in front of him, repeatedly asking him how they can help.

his heart rate, his blood pressure, both spiked up to a concerningly high rate. his vitals alarm is blaring. the cameras in yuto’s eyes don’t reveal yuto himself, and seungjoon wonders, with a grim sense of dread, how he’d be feeling if he could see the state yuto was in himself.

they really, really don’t want a repeat of last time. hyojin’s right. he knows it, hyojin knows it, and he knows that hyojin knows that he knows it.

“the entire unit is worried for you. at first we thought this was a coping mechanism that would help you get better, but you’re only getting more stressed. it’s okay to take a break, but it’s not okay to keep working only to drop all your responsibilities. have you realized that you’ve left jaeyoung to single handedly take care of your team’s duties?”

seungjoon curses under his breath, finally turning around. “ah, shoot, i didn’t mean to do that.”

“i know. we sent minkyun over to help him out. he asked me not to bring it up, but you need to realize what you’re doing.” hyojin says, jamming his hands into his hoodie pocket.

“it’s just—” seungjoon starts, and just as suddenly stops. he flails his hands in the air a little, desperately trying to convey the hopelessness and frustration that’s suddenly welled in his throat. has breathing always been this hard?

hyojin nods, perfectly understanding. it’s amazing what over a decade of friendship will do for you. “take your time,” he says, patiently.

seungjoon takes a deep breath. and another one. collects his thoughts into some semblance of coherency. opens his mouth.

“this is different from ... minseok.” he begins, ignoring the way hyojin flinches a little. seungjoon feels the same.

“minseok was both our responsibilities. but yuto, he’s mine. and we didn’t even lose communication this time. but we can’t send him back to reboot his memories without his permission, and he doesn’t even remember how to give permission in the first place. i just have to sit and watch as he feeds some stupid cows or harvest some stupid crops! he is one of the smartest people in this agency and he’s farming? i just - ugh, i want him back.”

seungjoon kicks the wall underneath the computer desk. to his dismay, it barely makes a noise. he’s not any less frustrated, and he’s definitely just bruised his toe.

hyojin nods again, seemingly satisfied with seungjoon’s outburst of emotion. “it’s the first time you’ve been open to any of us in a while.” he comments, pensively.

seungjoon doesn’t grace him with a response. that cheeky little brat.

“i’m picking up dinner. is jajangmyeon alright?” hyojin asks abruptly.

“what?” seungjoon says.

“not a question. i’ll be back with the food in five minutes. oh, and i ordered tangsuyuk too.” hyojin states, pulling his phone out of his pocket and checking it.

“have you forgotten that we’re not supposed to eat food around the very expensive computers?” seungjoon asks, raising his eyebrows.

hyojin’s lips quirk into a half smile. “since when have you and i followed the rules when it comes to food?”

seungjoon opens his mouth, and closes it. he chooses to nod instead. he couldn’t argue with that flawless logic even if he tried.

as hyojin walks out, another agent walks in, holding a clipboard to his chest with his arm. seungjoon frowns; he thought he knew everyone in his division, but he doesn’t recognize the man who just came in. “are you looking for someone?” seungjoon offers, tentatively.

“oh, no, i’ve just been stationed here.” the agent says, glancing down at his clipboard. “i’ve been told that tonight i have to monitor agent YO-425-83 —”

at this, seungjoon stiffens.

“— and orchestrate his dreams.” the strange agent finishes, unaware of the inner conflict that’s just risen in seungjoon’s brain.

seungjoon tries a smile. it feels forced and awkward on his face, but he hopes the other agent doesn’t notice. “were you debriefed on exactly how you were to do this?” seungjoon asks, his voice restrained and thick.

“somewhat, yes. i was given a file,” he starts, procuring a USB drive out of seemingly thin air, “and i was told to play the video into his memory feed. the rest, they said, was self-explanatory.”

oh. this is dangerous. seungjoon should most definitely not sit here and watch whatever memories they try to feed into yuto’s brain. he’s not mentally strong enough to handle it. it’s one thing to watch yuto on the farm, where he is a completely different person who never knew seungjoon or his life as an agent. it is another thing entirely to watch him be the person who he once was, only to have that fleeting image ripped out of seungjoon’s incapable hands yet again.

but seungjoon couldn’t stop himself from watching if he tried.

“may i monitor the process?” he decides to ask, rummaging through his bag propped up on another chair before pulling out his special badge. “i’m a supervisor, and this is a very delicate mission, so, as it’s your first time doing this, i’d like to ensure nothing goes wrong.”

the agent’s eyes widen. “y-yes, uh— of c-course, sir!” he stammers, fumbling over his words before dropping into a hasty bow. “i am so sorry, if i had known—”

seungjoon raises a hand, backing away from yuto’s monitoring computer and gesturing towards it. “no need to worry, you’ve done nothing wrong. now, why don’t you set up the system? we wouldn’t want to be late.”

the new agent hastens to oblige, pulling another chair in front of the computer before inserting the USB drive and typing furiously. the password screen clears, replaced by the thumbnail of the yuto’s dream’s video. it’s black, which gives no indication as to how this is going to go.

“would you like a headset, sir?” the agent offers, holding one out. “or do you not need to hear how the dream is going to monitor it?”

“thank you,” seungjoon says, putting the headset on and noticing how it cancels out the whirring of the computers and other white noises. for better or for worse, he is going to be fully immersed in this dream.

seungjoon holds his breath as the agent presses play.

it’s the strangest set of memories, and for once, seungjoon has no clue what the CEO was thinking. he can faintly recall where the scenes were from, though, based on the stories yuto had told. he’s searching for the key in an abandoned apartment. he’s investigating a fully secured museum, escaping from the alarms. he’s running from the authorities, hiding in a not-so-abandoned alleyway as he holds a gun to changyoon’s head, not realizing who it is. how is this supposed to help yuto gain his memories back, again?

the scene changes once more, and the proceeding image sends a chill up his spine. seungjoon curses, soft and low. it’s the asteroids; the reason why yuto had to go back and change things; the reason why he isn’t in this time and place anymore. if he could, seungjoon would take to a space station and destroy every single asteroid that ever dared to exist. every single stupid chunk of rock that stole parts of his life away. almost subconsciously, seungjoon switches the microphone on his headset to ‘on’.

“this is why we sent you back,” seungjoon says, sadly. dream yuto stills, says nothing, does nothing.

“sir?” the other agent asks in confusion. seungjoon ignores him.

“we wanted to change things,” he continues, watching as the asteroids get closer and closer to the ground. “we didn’t know it would end like this.”

‘didn’t know that you would be stuck in the past,’ seungjoon wants to add, but can’t. the last time they gave such a direct clue, yuto had an episode. he never wants to see yuto in pain like that again.

dream yuto shivers. for a second, seungjoon allows himself to hope that his words are working. that, once this is all over, yuto will activate the ‘return’ signal like he’s always been able to do.

“come back,” seungjoon pleads, letting the desperation bleed into his words.

dream yuto shakes his head, and it’s with a horrible jolt that seungjoon realizes the dream is coming to a close. before the moment ends, seungjoon squeaks out one last word.

“please.”

the dream stops.

seungjoon slumps back and stares at the monitor for a tense second. nothing happens. he pulls off his headset, gently placing it on the desk in front of him, and angrily swipes at the tears that have been rolling down his face.

-

hyojin drove him home.

he had taken one look at seungjoon’s miserable state and the computer in front of him before piecing together what he had missed. hyojin offered a brisk apology to the baffled, new agent in front of him before gathering his mess of a friend and declaring the work day over. seungjoon was in no position to disagree.

“take a nap. or watch a movie, or eat the jajangmyeon i put in your fridge, or whatever. but if i see you back at work today, i will end you.” hyojin threatened before cheerfully exiting.

seungjoon flops down on his bed, suddenly exhausted. he squeezes his eyes shut and pretends that everything is okay. wonders if, maybe, somewhere across time and space, someone out there is doing the same.

[thelightfluxtastic]

30DayTheri 10: Tangram Model

This may feel a little out-of-order, as I plan to write future posts going into more detail about the exact experiences (noemata, behaviors, etc.) that I associate with my therianthropy, and why I identify as a psychological therian. But today, I’ll summarize those things briefly in order to get at a metaphor for how I construct identity, period.

So first, a bulleted list of the kinds of things I, personally, associate with my therianthropy:

Behaviors

Food preferences

Growling and barking urges

“Fetching” behaviors (will probably elaborate later)

Mouth = 3rd hand (I thought this was normal, my bf gently poked fun)

Internal experiences

Phantom shifts (ears, tail, teeth)

Mental shifts

Noemata (red and white fur, pattern, general body size)

“Me” recognition feeling in response to dogs

Euphoria at being seen as a dog

“My person” interpersonal feelings

Sheep protective feelings

Traits

Extroversion

Responsiveness to rewards (yes this is linked to extroversion)

General sociability/friendliness

Suggestibility

Social Submissiveness

Passion/identification with animals in general

Not sure if therianthropy or something else

Sensitivity to sound and smell

Constant chewing habit

Singing preferences (this one is weird and ???)

The thing about literally everything on the list above? All of it could have a different explanation. It’s the sum, not the parts, isn’t it? Any identity, if one is asked to explain “how do you know you’re X?”, the individual reasons are never 100% applicable. Just like roleplaying as a different gender in video games is a common trans experience, but not exclusive to all or only trans folks. Or how I’m Lithuanian for several reasons (I was born there, my parents and grandparents were, I speak the language and participate in the culture). Another person might have been born there but not speak the language. Another might have only distant ancestry but participate in the culture. Etc. Etc. I’m sure there are otherkin that have a list of experiences with no overlap with mine (past life memories, dream shifts, species dysphoria) who are still equally otherkin. No specific reason is the necessary-and-sufficient factor.

And here’s the thing- I don’t care if there are other explanations. Even if literally everything I ascribe to therianthropy can be broken down into normal personality traits, neurodivergence, random chance, etc., to me, that doesn’t erase my ability to draw a circle around those traits and call it therianthropy, especially if doing so helps me navigate the world and makes me happy.

Identity is often approached, I think, like a jigsaw puzzle: the pieces only fit together a certain way, and once you figure out all of them, you can get one correct picture. Consider this really neat post that compares a therian and an autistic person, pointing out external behaviors that may seem similar, but are internally caused by different things.

Here’s the thing. People don’t know why they do things. It’s a whole thing called the introspection illusion. If someone is trying to introspect to determine “am I doing this for sensory reasons or otherkin reasons?”, they have no assurance of getting the right answer. It’s just not that neatly knowable.

I would like to introduce instead the metaphor of a tangram. A tangram is a type of puzzle where there is a set of seven pieces, which need to be arranged (without gaps or overlaps) to make a bigger picture. You can play a bunch here. The point of a tangram is that the pieces are literally all the same. They don’t have patterns like a jigsaw puzzle, the whole point is “how many shapes can I make out of the exact same set?”.

So that’s how I see my therianthropy, when it comes to questioning how much of it is influenced by “other” things, like personality and neurodivergence and childhood experiences and quirks and habits. For me, pointing to my chewing behavior and going “that’s just stimming, like in autism” or my food preferences and going “that’s just coincidence” is a little like pointing out that both a cat and rabbit tangram have the same big triangle piece in it. Like...so what? The individual pieces could belong to anything. In me, they make a larger picture of a dog, and that’s whats important to me.

((Or for another metaphor, tacos, burritos and quesadillas can have similar or many overlapping ingredients, but the difference in arrangement and preparation still matters))

[skvaderarts]

Hiraeth Chapter 6: Reassurance

Masterlist can be found Here!

Chapter Six: Reassurance

Note: Thank you for all the lovely comments! I love talking with you all each chapter. It never fails to put a smile on my face.

-~-

Snow blew through the entryway door, picked up and carried there by the brutally cold winter wind that practically carried them into the home with it as they rushed through the door, slamming it behind them in a desperate attempt to cover their tracks. Neither of them knew where the mysterious group of people who had shown up to their town had come from, but considering the fact that there was only one road into the area, it wasn’t very difficult to figure out what direction they might have come from. Still, their motivations for coming there to commit such unspeakable atrocities were less than clear to V, and he was starting to wonder what their ulterior motives might be. It was rare for people to simply drive into a populated area on a whim with the end goal of decimating it, but here they were. And they seemed to be working towards some kind of end goal. After all, there was clearly a certain level of organization present within their actions, just not one that made much sense to him.

“It would probably be best to stay within sight of the road, but not within sight of people from the road, right? That seems like a safe bet.” A small voice said as its owner rifled through different items in the kitchen, seemingly searching for something. She knew that they were running out of time, and she was trying to make the most out of a terrible situation. “Well, as safe as bets get right now, I guess. Where both kind of in the dark here.”

The target of her words stood in the living area of his small abode, looking through a few items of interest. He planned to return here, that much he knew, so there was no logical reason to pack any valuable or useless items for their trip. Sentiment didn’t help him much in this particular situation. Still, there was the irrational worry that he might lose something in this situation despite the fact that the large majority of what was here wasn’t his. Furnished apartments were common in this area, and as such, were relatively cheap, so renting one had been his first choice. As such, there were only a few things of any note here that belonged to him, and most of them were books. It seemed that his compulsion to hoard written works had gotten the best of him yet again. There was something so satisfying about watching a bookcase fill up with books that he brought home from his quiet day job, clearance items taking their rightful place on the builtins that lined the far wall of his small living space. He was aware of the fact that he probably should have utilized that space more efficiently, but he was okay with that. At least he’d been happy.

He’d been happy, hadn’t he?

Looking back on it at that moment in time, he couldn’t say what he felt. Terror was a predominant fixture in his adrenaline addled mind, and little else mattered aside from getting out of there as quickly, and as safely, as possible. Neither of them deserved to die, not that deserving something ever had very much to do with receiving it. But regardless, he was going to try to make it as difficult as possible for their attackers to track them down and kill them, or worse. And the first part of that process was to get out of town and to the next one as quickly as possible.

With a soft sigh, V turned in the direction of the kitchen where his young companion was still going through the contents of the cabinets and drawers. He watched her for a moment, quietly curious as to what she was doing, but strangely unaffected by the fact that she was doing so. This was a life or death situation, so it made perfect sense that she wouldn’t probably consider how rude she might be acting as a result. He couldn’t blame her in the slightest for that. But regardless, they needed to get going.

“Agreed. That was my intention from the start when I planned to go into the woods. Without the road or a map, we would be hopelessly lost in deep snow, and that could prove to be our undoing easily.” He walked into the kitchen, taking a moment to look out of the window. V didn’t see anyone coming, but that didn’t mean that they weren’t. After all, he hadn’t seen them coming the first time around. “What are you looking for? I do live here. Perhaps I could help you find it.”

She stopped for a moment, facepalming as she shook her head, a worried look on her face. She raised her arms before dropping them, seemingly flustered as she groaned and looked at him, a worried yet apologetic look in her eyes. He could tell that she was sorry and overwhelmed without him even asking, and he didn’t need to ask her why. After all, he wasn’t stupid. Or, at the very least, he didn’t like to think he was.

“Oh, I’m so sorry! I should’ve asked first! I don’t know where my mind was…” She looked overwhelmed for a moment, her eyes slightly watery as she tried to steady herself. “Look, I promise I’m not normally this rude. I just… I was looking for a knife or something. Anything we could use as a weapon in case they catch us again. Pretty sure we’re fresh out of safes.”

V stared at her for a moment, unsure as to whether or not he should laugh at that morbid statement. He wasn’t sure he could even if he wanted to, but there was a part of him that did find it genuinely funny. As far as he was concerned, the man deserved whatever fate had befallen him. After all, anyone who was willing to just show up in a town and kill people had nothing but bad things coming. He wouldn’t pretend to know or understand their reasons, but he was willing to bet that they didn’t have any that warranted the kind of actions they’d partaken in.

“You’re fine. I understand. And yes, I do, in fact, have something that you might be able to use.” He turned in the direction of the standing dish cabinet in the corner of the room, opening one of the three drawers that made up the bottom third of the unit. He then produced a small canister and closed the drawer before turning to face her yet again. “It would be more useful than a knife, at least. You have to get too close to use that. Here, take this.”

With that, he handed her the small spray can and readied himself to leave. She examined it for a moment, clearly unsure as to how it worked and what it actually did. As she tried to understand how this simple looking container could be used as a weapon, V walked over to the front door, taking a moment to look out the front window. The coast was still clear, but he had an aching feeling that it wouldn’t remain that way for much longer. Something in the very core of his being was urging him to leave, and he was more than willing to oblige it. Every moment that they spent inside the house was time that they could be using to get to the next town over, but also another opportunity for their attackers to hunt them down and more than likely kill them.

He picked up the over the shoulder bag that he’d packed and headed through the kitchen towards the back door after locking the front door behind them, gesturing for the young girl to follow him. She did so, but grabbed a knife from the drawer as she went, shrugging as he gave her a curious look. “Well, better safe than sorry. Can’t have too many weapons, right? I mean, what if this spray doesn’t work? What does it do, anyway? I’ve never used anything like this before.”

For a moment, he didn’t quite understand her question. Then it occurred to him that he hadn’t explained to her how to use it. He opened the back door, feeling the cool winter air dance across his face. Before them stood nothing but thick trees just across the small space that made up his back yard. He only hoped that the snow wasn’t too thick. “It’s pepper spray. You spray it in the face of someone who is trying to attack them, and it should at least slow them down since it burns their eyes and lungs. That particular can works by squeezing the top down and pointing it away from you. In my experience, it’s quite useful.”

She nodded, seemingly catching the gist of what he was saying. That was better than having to stab someone, but she was going to keep the knife just in case her first option didn’t work out like she was hoping it would. That, and it might prove useful in other ways. After all, having a sharp object in a situation like this could prove to be a lifesaver.

Following him out into the chilly air, she shivered as he locked the door and turned towards the woods. They were really going in there, hu? She’d spent most of her life being told by her grandparents about the woods that encompassed the town, and how only the foolish dared to venture into them. It was apparently part of the reason that her parents had moved away and into the city just after she’d been born. But she still came down for the weekend every year during winter break, and she couldn’t help but notice that there was in fact, something eerie about the forest. It was a hard thing to put a finger on, but she was certain that something was just… wrong with the entire place. It was almost as if they radiated some sort of darkness that she could feel but couldn’t see, though that could have just been her overactive imagination. She’d was a pretty wild kid, after all.

Before long, V was holding a branch back for her to duck under as they entered the woods, the both of them trying to keep their composure for different reasons. There was an awful lot going on, and all of it could prove to be their undoing, but they had no other option but to forge ahead and hope for the best. It was either go back into town and surrender to the mysterious strangers who had laid waste to their quiet little town. Neither of them would willingly pick that option if it was presented to them, and they didn’t even need to ask one another that question to know the answer to it.

They walked in hurried silence for the first half-hour or so, both of them too afraid of being heard to speak out loud. Although it was unlikely that anyone could sneak up on them and not be heard due to the amount of snow on the ground, they were both too scared of dying to try their luck. Although a simple conversation about literally anything would go a long way towards making them both less anxious, neither of them was willing to actually try and start one. It was simply too risky. But after nearly an hour of uncomfortable silence, the young girl decided to quietly break the silence.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name. I’m Morgan.” Her voice was so quiet that V had to actually stop for a moment and look back at her to make sure that she was talking to him. He’d been walking ahead of her, helping both to flatten the snow so that she could walk quicker and to keep an eye out for trouble. “Thanks for not leaving me back there. Your pretty brave, ya know? Helping a total stranger out like that. At least I think so.”

V considered her words for a moment. He didn’t feel brave. In fact, there was a part of him that still felt deeply ashamed for considering leaving her behind to try and save himself. He knew that it had just been his self-preservation instincts trying to keep him alive, but he still didn’t like to think about the fact that he might be capable of something so despicable. Never in his life had he ever conjured up something so loathsome as to leave a child to die during what amounted to a small scale terrorist attack or something similar. It was simply beneath his dignity to do something like that, even if he didn’t know who the other party involved was. And now that he knew the young girl’s name, there was no way that he was going to leave her to fend for herself if he had any say in the matter. No. He’d spend the rest of his life laying awake in his bed, thinking about the simply unforgivable lengths he was willing to go to save himself. That was no type of life to live.

“My name is… I’m V.” He spoke quieter than he probably ever had before, still worried about the possibility of accidentally alerting their enemies to their location. Maybe a short conversation was what they both needed to ease the tension between them.” And you shouldn’t thank me for doing the right thing. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I just stood by and let him… hurt you.”

To his surprise, she folded her arms around herself and shook her head, a disapproving look on her face. It seemed that they didn’t see eye to eye in this particular situation, and that was something that actually surprised him quite a bit. She seemed to be very adamant as to her opinion on the matter, something that he admittedly respected. For such a young girl, Morgan was very sure of herself and her motivations for what she did and didn’t do. It was honestly commendable, as long as it didn’t interfere with his plans to get them both to something even remotely akin to safety.

“But I should. A lot of people don’t.” There was a look in her eyes that recognized. It was very similar to the one that he’d seen on her face when she’d told him what had happened to her grandparents.” My dad didn’t. That’s why it’s just me and my mom and my grandparents now. Well, it was my grandparents… I’m gonna miss them. I can’t believe they’re really gone. How am I gonna tell my mom?”

He shrugged slightly, entirely at a loss as to what to say about the matter. He didn’t know her or her mother, and to his knowledge, he didn’t know her grandparents, either. Before today, there had been no one in town that he really interacted with. At most, there had been the occasional hello in passing as he walked up the street, or a polite thank you when he happened to bump into the mail courier on his way out the door to go to work, but that had been it. He didn’t really have anyone that he would be willing to call a friend, and he most certainly didn’t know anyone. People here kept to themselves, and that was a large part of the reason that he had moved there in the first place.

Unsure what else he could say to try and ease her suffering, he exhaled softly, watching his breath turn into cool mist as it left his mouth. “I can’t say. Maybe I could tell her for you once this is all over. I’m sorry for your loss. I’m sure they were good people.” It occurred to him that opening up to her might make his response seem a bit less unnatural or insincere. That wasn’t something he normally did, but this wasn’t a normal situation, so exceptions were bound to be made. “I’ve never known any of my family, so I can’t imagine what your feeling right now.”

Morgan gave him an almost hurt look, one that he wasn’t sure as to the origins of. On the one hand, it could be horror at his revelation. But at the same time, it could very well be a result of his explanation not holding the weight that he hoped it would. With a soft sigh, V glanced back at her for a moment, daring to take a moment to explain further. If they were going to get through this, then they had to work together. Having hard feelings between them didn’t assist them in any way.

“... I don’t tell you these things so that you will feel pity for me. I tell you them so that you will understand why I respond the way that I do.” He wasn’t entirely sure how to say what he wanted to say, but V hoped that she understood that he truly did feel sorry for the situation that she found herself in. Was it better to never be loved, to be loved only to lose it? He hoped that he would never have the opportunity to find out. “I don’t lack empathy. I lack first-hand experience and understanding, so I have a hard time relating to what you’ve said to me. But I do care in spite of that.”

A small, sad smile spread across Morgan’s freckled face as she wiped her eyes, looking down at the ground. She hadn’t expected him to say that to her. “T-thanks, V. Your alright. But I have a question.”

Gesturing towards her to continue, V nodded. “Ok, but then it’s probably best we remain silent for a while longer. Were still somewhat close to town, and we have to cross the road soon if we have any hope of reaching the town by nightfall. It gets very cold after dark.”

She cleared her throat as quietly as she could, the cold air parching her slightly. But in spite of that, she refused to drink what little water V had brought with them, or eat any of the food that he had stored in his bag. They had agreed to take turns carrying it, and it had to last until they got where they were going. “So V, what if we get there and everyone is dead like where we just came from? What do we do then?”

V stopped dead in his tracks, truly taken back by that question. It made perfect sense, but the brain-numbing horror that he felt as he considered the idea that these crazed lunatics might have attacked more than just their quiet town was simply too horrible for his mind to process. “... I… I don’t know. But either way, I’ll try my best to keep you safe.”

Morgan nodded. “Me too. That a promise?”

Although he wasn’t sure what the small girl could do other than throw another heavy object at his opponents or mace them, he didn’t doubt the determination that he saw in her eyes. And in some small way, he felt better just looking at her. Even if there was nothing that either of them could really do to change the course of their future, both of them were more hopeful now than they probably had been since they’d met, and that was something to take comfort in.

“That’s a promise.”

-~-

Hey everyone! I hope you liked this chapter! Things have really gone to hell, haven’t they? At least we know that V makes it out of this somehow, but that doesn’t mean that this will be easy. Mark my words, this is one hardcore backstory. No, I’m not sorry for making that joke. See you on Friday!