#it’s almost like that’s what make us siblings

[alllgator-blood]

'FOGGY STREETS AND CHRISTMAS LIGHTS'

(part 3/3)

I'm gonna infodump about the backstory of this comic, don't feel obligated to read it because it's not cotl related it's just personal stuff, I just want to be able to write about it somewhere cause I can't really talk to anyone about it.

As always, thanks for reading this far, sorry my stuff has been such a bummer so consistently. This comic goes out to all my "christmas induced depression" homies, I left my house maybe like ~5 times all month and it was NOT pleasant hearing "IT'S THE MOST WONDERFUL TIME OF THE YEAR!!" on the radio when I'm so ready for it to be over. Gonna take it reaaaaal easy til the year ends, you guys take it easy too!! Got some asks I have to respond to when I'm more stable but probably no new comic pages til january

Alright uhhh so this part of the comic is pretty much taken directly from the last time I saw my great-grandma alive, a few days before christmas. She didn't remember me, but at the nursing home there was a piano, and I sat down and played some stuff because I didn't know what to say. I was really into lisa the painful rpg at the time, and I played that "I've got the joy" song that the villain sings without realizing it was an old christian campfire song. She didn't really say much or move that whole night, just kind of gave me a polite blank smile, but started singing the words when I played the notes to that song.

I kinda stopped in shock, my dad frantically asked me to keep playing, so I did. While the comic I made is way more sappy than the actual moment was, I wish I'd cherished the moment longer. I didn't know it was the last time I'd see her alive. Every family christmas was held at her house when she was around, so it's been weird the past few years. I actually lost another dementia-addled grandma to cancer on christmas eve in 2009, so the holiday was already kind of weird for me on top of everything else that makes me sad this time of year. That's what part 2 was about, I'll spare the details but I wrote leshy to act out how I felt back then. Why are we all sad? This is supposed to be a happy time, all the decorations are up and we're almost all here, so why is everyone smiling yet everything feels so wrong? I feel like since leshy's canonically the most ignorant one to things lurking below the surface, he'd be the one to try and make everyone feel better but not quite understand why everyone is so miserable. My first memory of having self injurious behavior came from then, hence why I had leshy pull his leaves off in the last comic. It was confusing and frustrating and I was just old enough to comprehend something was wrong, but not old enough to understand the depth of it, it DEFINITELY didn't help that nobody helped me back then so I made leshy's siblings actually come in clutch instead of grabbing him/yelling at him.

That night with the piano was something that's stuck with me the few years she's been gone, but I felt kind of strange when I asked my dad and my sister about it and neither of them remembered it. The room we were in was completely empty so nobody else witnessed it but us three. I myself have a history of head trauma and memory loss (plus, native americans are disproportionately more likely to develop dementia... lucky us) so if I ever forgot about that moment, there'd be nobody left to remember it. Sometimes when I do comics, it's my way of going "this happened at some point, and the only evidence it ever happened was me witnessing it, so if something happens to me I want the memory to stay alive in some form."

Anyway. The autistic urge to overshare, am I right? Idk what my religious ass great-grandma would think of me drawing demonic comics about my last memory of her, she'd probably think it's funny though cause she raised my dad whose interests have always been "death metal and devil worship". I'm not sure if anyone read this far, I just hope my dumb comics can convey the things I can't say with my voice and struggle to say through text. None of this was supposed to be "feel bad for me!! Woe is me!!", it was supposed to me more like...cathartic? Healing? I almost didn't post this comic because it felt kinda weird, but seeing people connect with it made it worth it imo. Thank you

[softbabybelle]

𝜗𝜚 c!w. sibling issues, reader has a mean!older sister, self-doubt, crying, soft!rafe, one thousand percent self indulgent.

mia - (sister's name)

"what's wrong with you, huh?" rafe cameron's voice came out smooth as butter. you felt him nudge your arm with his elbow.

you only shrugged in response, not feeling all that well enough to use your voice.

you were sitting on the couch of tannyhill, snuggled close to rafe. he picked you up every friday night from your house, then sat you snug on the couch, filled you up with all the wrong kinds of foods and put on whatever movie your heart would desire.

tonight, it was the princess diaries. you'd been excited all week to show rafe the movie you'd adored so dearly. you told him before that you were educating him on all the things he missed out on.

as excited as you'd been all week, rafe noticed that tonight you couldn't seem to so much as train your eyes on the tv.

"you're in a mood." it wasn't a question, more of a statement as he studied your face. you were close to him by all means, hands wrapping around his arm and head leaning against his bicep.

but you were quiet, you had been since he picked you up over an hour ago. you were staring at this one spot on the ground, rafe swore that by the time you looked away, you'd burn a hole in the carpet. "'m not." you answered sheepishly, turning your nose up at him.

he could tell you were trying to put on this brave face, the one you often tried to put on around him, and failed effortlessly.

he frowned at you.

at the beginning of the relationship, you'd been so closed off, not wanting to bother him with all the the things 'wrong' with you. but he thought you'd grown out of that by now.

"c'mere." he didn't give you much adjustment, already pulling you to seat yourself on his lap, where he liked you. this way, you had no way of sneaking away from his confrontation. "what's wrong, huh? what happened to m'girl?"

rafe was so soft, adoring as he traced his fingers up and down your arms, soothing you so gently.

it was the kind of calmness you'd been searching for all day.

he knew how your home life could be, especially with your older sister. you used to be close with her, she used to be your favourite person in the world. and then she got a boyfriend, and well, you don't really seem to know what to think anymore.

he felt your hands paw at his shoulders, almost pushing him away. "rafe, i-i don't―" your eyes began to gloss over, rimming red around the edges.

"hey, hey." he didn't allow you to push him, grabbing your elbows to hold you in place. "what's going on, huh? why you pushing me away?" you huffed out a breath and avoided his eyes, but nonetheless, stopped trying to fight back.

rafe felt his frown deepen.

it broke his heart a little to watch you revert into your old bad habits. but he swore sometimes, you were taking two steps forward with him and then suddenly your sister's shooting you back another five steps. "hey, c'mon, we talked about this." his fingers tapped at your chin. "y'gotta let me in."

you let out this shaky breath that he swore would have been accompanied with a whimper if you didn't have such self-restraint. "'s mia."

and rafe didn't need to hear anything else to know what was wrong.

to be blunt, rafe didn't know what to make of your sister. he knew you cared for her, he knew she would never not be your sister in any twisted universal dimension. but she wasn't exactly nice to you. to be honest, rafe wasn't so sure why you even liked her to begin with. she called you names, she teased you, she yelled at you, made you feel like a big pile of nothing.

then she'd walk into your life again as if nothing had happened.

there was always something going on with her, if it wasn't an argument with her boyfriend then it was something with work and if not that, something silly like not being able to get lunch at the country club.

and somehow, all of her problems seemed to backtrack and land on you.

your parents would often take their anger out on you too, too stressed with everything going on with mia to comprehend what they were doing to you. and you, well, you were too nice to bite back. still offering your sister money when she complained about having none after not showing up to work.

if rafe had known what you'd been spending all your allowance on, he wouldn't have let you take it in cash, he would have given you his credit card and told you very sternly to spend as much as you wanted, as long as it was on yourself.

"sweetheart."

all he had to do was say that name in that soft, gentle tone he used and you were already unravelling.

you were staring at your hands, as if looking for an answer while trying to keep your tears at bay. "she's jus' so mean."

"i know, honey." his hands were grasping at yours, trying to redirect your attention to his face.

and you did look at him, finally you looked up but you had this broken look on your face as you swallowed the lump in your throat. "i ha-have to ask you something." you were speaking all strained, trying not to cry.

rafe, suddenly nervous, soothed out the nerves in your hands and up your arms, across your shoulders to behind your neck. "you can ask me anything, baby. what's goin' on?"

"do you think..?" rafe was patient with you, listening to you choke and struggle on your words but he never once rushed you. "do you think 'm selfish?"

rafe's face contorted, as if he were actually offended that you'd even ask such a question. "what?"

you hiccuped. "'cause i t-try really hard to be nice to everyone, b-but mia said―" you cut yourself off, trying to control your breathing. you were all worked up, the day being too much, everything too overwhelming. "s-she always says that 'm selfish 'n that 'm mean. i don't... i don't wanna be a bad p-person, rafe."

for a moment, rafe was rendered speechless.

it wasn't often that rafe wasn't quite sure what to say, but this was indefinitely one of those unfortunate times.

but he could see that teary look in your eyes, staring into his own. you were searching his face, trying to gauge whether or not he believed you were good. you needed him to tell you. you needed him to believe you were good.

so he took a breath and shook his head.

"you are... by far, the most selfless person i've ever met." his fingers trailed across your cheek, down your chin, anywhere they could touch and skim your skin. "c'mon, baby, mean? you get a little hangry come seven o clock with no dinner in you but even then you wouldn't so much as raise your voice."

you huffed out a giggle, pushing his face with your sleeve-covered hands.

"'m serious." he maneuvered you so you were laying with your back against the couch and he was hovering over you. "you're m'sweet girl. the sweetest girl in the world, yeah?"

"but―"

a kiss planted against your lips shut you up. "no buts." he announced, moving a kiss to your cheek. "you are." then a kiss to the other. "the sweetest." against your forehead. "girl." a pepper to your nose. "in the entire world." and finally a kiss right back on your lips.

you stared up at him like he was worth a million diamonds and he swore he couldn't find anyone in the world that was better for him. it was you, through every universe, every dimension and every lifetime.

"now you say it." at his words, you tilted your head slightly confused. "say you're the sweetest girl in the world so i know you believe it."

another small giggle passed your lips. "rafe, n-no." feeling heat pile on your cheeks with embarrassment.

"say it." you felt his fingers pinch your sides sending a tickle up your body.

instantly, you tried to shove him away. "rafe!"

but the boy simply couldn't resist. he'd been challenged and he wasn't going to give up. "say it!" and he didn't stop pinching you, even when you were a screaming mess of giggles, begging him to stop but the laughter bubbling in your chest suggested he keep going. "all you gotta do is say it, baby."

"'m so sweet." giggling through your faux self-assurance.

however, rafe didn't stop his abuse to your sides. "'s not the full sentence!"

"fine! fine!" you felt him pause and raise an eyebrow at you, waiting. your giggles faded into a lopsided grin. "'m the sweetest girl in the world."

"yeah you are. there's m'good girl." he sat back up into a seating position, bringing your body with him so you could sit against his lap. "feelin' better, princess?"

you nodded against his chest, arms loosely falling around his body. "mm, thank you rafey." he glanced down, watching you yawn against him, perhaps today had been just a little bit too much on you.

he glanced back to the tv which was long forgotten. "what do you say, we go to bed together now 'n finish this tomorrow?"

but he was already picking up the remote to switch it off and your eyes were already fluttering closed with a whine. "no, rafey. wanted you to watch it tonight."

"oh, i know." while picking you up to bring you to your shared bedroom, switching off the lights in the process. "'m just the worst."

"no." you mumbled tiredly. "y'the sweetest boy in the world."

and rafe couldn't help but grin.

yeah, you were definitely the perfect fit for him.

[tuesdaykiss]

“touching toes”

rafe cameron social media au

“he’s over more and more, had to give him a whole drawer. to be honest, kinda like seeing his trainers by the door.” — olivia dean, ‘touching toes’.

synopsis: after finishing her fashion studies at college in nyc, y/n moves to outerbanks to live with her grandparents. she worries about the loneliness that comes with being in a new place, knowing only her cousin topper and other relatives… that is until she is acquainted with a certain cameron.

part — 4 | 5 | 6

masterlist

your phone

you sat cross-legged on the living room couch, staring into a space of nothingness. inviting rafe cameron over was a bold move, for you — how would sarah react? better yet, how would your cousin react? knots twisted in your stomach as you waited for his arrival, your anticipation running wild.

there was a part of you that regrets this decision already. what were you thinking? but here you are, your heart skipping a beat at the littlest of sounds: you’re on edge.

despite the looming feeling that this was a bad idea, there was an undeniable thrill that washed over you. maybe that’s why you’d asked him in the first place — your curiosity getting the better of you, you wanted to know more about him.

time moved slowly, and you couldn’t help but wonder how this will play out…

your story

sarahcameron replied to your story:

hottttt

jjmaybank replied to your story:

there she is!

kiaracarrera and itscleo liked your story

your phone

boredom had gotten the better of you, as you awaited the arrival of the oldest cameron sibling… logging back into your twitter, you had swore you’d never use again (hating the toxicity it brought with it).

having lied to sarah about your plans of the night, you couldn’t help but feel a slight shred of guilt. but, what she didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her. like rafe said, “none of their business”.

as you were conjuring up a new ‘welcome back’ tweet, the door bell sounded. a soft ring splitting through the silence of the house… he was here.

eagerly you jumped from the couch, nerves buzzing under your skin as you quickly checked your reflection in the mirror opposite you. in attempt to steady yourself, you took a deep breath before heading for the door.

there he stood, ever so casually as the warm glow of the outdoor lights located on your front lawn illuminated his features, highlighting the smirk that tugged at his lips.

“hey,” his voice was low, almost a whisper, but laced thick with confidence.

for a moment, your head leaned against the doorframe, giving you a second to admire the man in front of you — piercing eyes, hair falling across his forehead causing a slight blush to creep on your cheeks. then, without another word, you stepped aside, a silent gesture of invitation.

before allowing himself to venture further into the house, he removed his trainers and placed the by the door. his small action of politeness caused you to smile.

your camera roll (the next morning)

a/n: rn i’m onto part 5 and have only published part 1… anyways, thoughts?

added in a link to the song 😉😉😉

i’m also like why did i make sarah famous pls, but i just wanted fans to comment… anyways if we don’t hear from sarahupdates for a while it’s bc y/n and rafe are my focus!

taglist: @my-name-is-baby

(let me know if you want to be added!)

[pricetagofficial]

Day 23: Movie Night

Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader

Warnings: Language, Dick is a menace

A/N: Welcome to day 23! We are in the final days until Christmas! I hope you all have a good week! Header by me, Divider by @cafekitsune

Masterlist

It was the final few days until Christmas, and you and Jason were sitting on the couch together enjoying the night.

Or you would be, if you could decide on a movie.

What was originally supposed to be a movie night, turned into you finding out just how many movies were banned in Wayne Manor growing up.

Some of the most iconic Christmas movies ever made, Jason has only seen a few times to not at all.

"So, explain to me why Elf is banned again?

Jason had his arm wrapped around your shoulders, holding you tightly into his side as the movie of topic played on the television.

"This one wasn't actually anyone's fault. Bruce just hates Will Ferrel and never let us watch it."

You were about to argue, but looking at the movie you were watching, maybe it was a good idea. You didn't want to know what Jason's siblings would do when they were kids with this movie.

"Polar Express?"

"Dick tried to the hot chocolate thing with Tim and Stephanie. You remember the rug that used to be in the lounge?"

You looked confused. "What rug?"

"Exactly."

That sounded like a lame reason, but you didn't exactly blame Bruce either.

"Grinch?" You tried.

"Tim and Duke tried to make the sleigh, and rally poor Titus into it. Bruce banned it because Damian almost killed them for that." he chuckled. "Hilariously, it was Dick's idea but Damian would never do anything to him."

You laughed, you could see the scenario playing out in your head. Damian running around with his sword, after a frantic Tim and Duke with Titus barking after them with a single antler on his head.

"The Santa Clause?"

Jason snorted. "Bruce woke up one night with Dick on the roof trying to scare Santa."

Your eyes almost bulged out of your head. "What in the world?"

"Is a much nicer sentence than what Bruce said when he found him. At least, that's what I've heard."

At this point you were running out of Christmas movies.

"Home Alone?"

"Dick."

White Christmas?"

Jason nodded. "That's allowed."

"A Christmas Carol?"

"Muppet version only,"

"Why?"

"Dick."

You didn't know what else to say. "Just how many of these are Dick's fault?"

Jason didn't even hesitate. "Just about every single one of them."

A meeting needed to be scheduled to speak with Dick and why he must ruin every Christmas movie.

"What about Die Hard?"

You watched as Jason shifted beside you. "That's actually my fault," he admitted.

"What did you do?"

Jason chuckled as he looked at you. "I may or may not have hidden in the vents one Christmas after coming back, with an airsoft gun and may or may not have shot everyone, except Aflred obviously."

Your jaw dropped. "You did not, as a grown-ass adult?"

He nodded. "I even quoted the movie every time I shot them."

"You are unbelievable."

Jason seemed to take offense to that. "Hey! Dick literally recreated the traps from Home Alone and made them more effective. If he wasn't stopped, someone was going to die."

You crossed your arms looking at him. "And how old was he?"

"He was like 12."

"He was a child!

"He acts like one."

You let out a groan and leaned back on the couch. "Well good news. He isn't here to ruin them so we are watching every movie you missed out on."

Jason looked at you once more with a smile. "Sounds like a plan, princess."

[am-i-interrupting]

Across the River | Viktor x Jinx’s Older Sibling

Chapter 5: Defying the Laws

Summary: After the explosion and disappearance of Vi, you take your little sister across the river to Piltover. You struggle to keep the two of you afloat but manage to get Jinx to the academy. This is where she procures an internship that changes your lives.

Five months into her assistant career is what it took before Jinx saw the beginnings of Hextech. Jayce had been the one to offer to show her what Hextech looked like in practice after realizing that she’d only been practicing in theory.

Viktor shocked his head with a small smile when Jayce brought out the stabilizer they’d made those many years ago. Now tweaked to better preform than it once had.

Jinx was the one who laid the orb into the contraption. It slipped from her fingertips and caught in her long nails before she gently let it plop into place.

Jayce turned the dial and it sparked to life before the room engulfed in blue for a moment. It twinkled out as things began floating.

“Turn it off,” Viktor said almost as soon as the room went back to its natural coloring.

“What?”

Viktor gestured towards Jinx’s. Her eyes were wide but not in the excited way more so in the hallowed, haunted way.

Her breathing was labored. It huffed out harshly. Like she’d been running for miles without a break.

Jayce quickly shut off the device. While Viktor and Jayce landed in their original places with grace, Jinx fell to the ground.

Her knees took the brunt of the fall as her hands came up to her head. She stared off into space.

“Jinx,” Jayce said softly as he approached her, his hand extended.

“No,” she said, voice cracking, “no.” Her head tipped forward against the ground. “It was a mistake.”

Jayce’s hand pressed against her shoulder. She bolted up and jerked away like he’d just slapped her. Tears were prickling at her eyes, waiting to fall.

“It was a mistake,” she repeated right before they fell.

She kept repeating the words to herself like a mantra.

“Go get her sister,” Viktor told Jayce.

Jayce looked between the two of them. Viktor gave a soft nod, a silent “I’ve got her.” Jayce bolted out of the door.

“I didn’t mean to,” Jinx said.

Viktor slid down into the floor, using his crutch to make sure he didn’t topple. Slowly, he placed it on the ground.

“I was just trying to help,” she said, a sob beginning to tear through her. “I was going to save them.”

Viktor sat with her on the cold floor.

The door to the shop didn’t normally open unless someone was getting something fixed or picking it up. It certainly never chimed open followed by hurried footsteps of someone who’d been running.

You looked over the automobile you were working on and saw none other than Jayce Talis looking frantic. Immediately you were on your feet.

“Jinx,” he said, “she needs you.”

“Kash, I’m gone!” you yelled as you ran to the door.

“Wait—“

“Jinx,” was all you said.

“Go,” Kash said, granting his permission. Not that you needed it.

It felt like it took forever to get to the Academy. Only when you were anxiously waiting in the elevator did you ask what happened.

“I don’t know,” Jayce said. “We were showing her some stuff with Hextech and she just started freaking out.”

“Shut up,” Jinx said in a quiet voice despite Viktor not saying a thing. “I was trying to save you!” Her head whipped around to behind her shoulder.

“I’m sorry.” Such a stark contrast to the yell that had just ripped through her. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. It was a mistake.”

It was then that the door opened. Viktor didn’t turn to see who it was though from the sound of the footsteps, Jayce was certainly there so the other pair were bound to be you.

“Hey,” you said as you dropped to your knees next to Viktor and Jinx. “What’s wrong?”

“They won’t stop yelling,” Jinx said.

You extended your arms to her and she leaned into them. You cradled her close. You took out the pins in her hair and her braids fell down.

“You did nothing wrong,” you told her.

“I jinxed it,” she said through sobs wracking through her body. “I always do.”

“You don’t jinx anything.”

She kept muttering. You began to rock her. Softly shushing her before you began to sing.

“Dear friend, across the river

My hands are cold and bare

Dear friend, across the river

I’ll take what you can spare”

You continued on as Jinx’s sobs slowly began to fade.

“Mom,” she said.

She curled her arms tighter around you and stuck her face between your neck and shoulder. She didn’t care that she got axle grease on her skin. Your purple blue hair covered her face in a blanket of security.

She shaking it joined your soft singing.

“I ask if you a penny

My fortune it will be

I ask you without envy”

Viktor raised his head and looked up at Jayce. Jayce met his gaze.

There was clearly much neither new about their assistant. Much to learn. Careful waters to tread.

What had happened to this young woman? What had happened to the both of you? Why such an adverse reaction? So many questions and no answers.

It took a while before Jinx’s breathing went even and her eyes fell closed. Her hands that had a death grip on your clothes went lax.

“Show me what happened,” you said.

Viktor and Jayce shared a glance. Inhaling deeply, Jayce picked up Jinx from your grasp. He walked over to a small door that led to their break room of sorts. Inside was a couch that he laid her on.

Viktor stood and walked over to the stabilizer. He waited until Jayce clicked the door shut to begin fiddling with the dials.

The same series of events happened as the first time earlier in the day.

“Good job—“

One, two, three explosions.

“Claggor!”

A hand pushed you. Just as something few where you had been. The space now taken up by your friend. His goggles were knocked off his face. Blood splattered against them as you were thrown through the hole in the wall.

You fell down. At a rapid speed. Your head smashed into the pavement. Something was coming toward you from above. You tried to move out of the way.

Your world went dark.

Your eyes closed. Your jaw clenched. Your hand came up to block your face. You fell against a floor of tiles.

A hand was placed atop your own. Slowly you let it guide your hand away from your face.

A muffled voice surrounded you.

That hand was still on your own. You let it guide you to a firm surface. Up and down it went in a slow, steady rhythm. Your fingers twitched, something bunched beneath them.

You tried to focus on that rhythm. The feel of the soft. . . fabric(?) beneath your hand.

You found yourself wheezing out breathes in harsh huffs. You tried to steady it but the sharp burning behind your nose did nothing to help. Your leg curled up beneath you. You could feel the pain that should be long gone given the several year old scar but it never vanished.

“Breathe in,” a thickly accented voice instructed. “Breathe out. Good. Repeat. Breathe in. Breathe out. Very good.”

You followed the demands of the voice you distantly recognized.

When your eyes opened, you were faced with tiled floors. A pair of legs bent at the knees right beside yours. A white vest and tie against a red shirt. A long, dexterous artist’s hand pressed against yours.

“Are you back with us?” A different voice asked as the accented one continued on.

You nodded slowly. “Yeah, I think so,” your voice felt thick on your tongue. “Whatever that was, don’t show it to Powder again.”

“Powder,” the accented voice, which you now processed as belonging to Viktor, repeated. His voice curled nicely around the name.

You shook yourself. “Fuck. Jinx. Don’t show it to Jinx again.” You took a few more steadying breaths. “Whatever else you’ve been doing with Hextech, sure, but not that.”

“Can you explain what just happened?” Jayce asked.

“That,” you pointed to the contraption, “killed our family.”

Jayce and Viktor looked at each other, both with furrowed eye brows.

“How did. . .” Viktor’s voice trailed off.

“Wait a second,” Jayce muttered to himself. “There were four suspects, two boys and two girls. One with. . . blue hair. Did Jinx steal my prototype?”

“We’ve all stolen from a lot of people,” you said as you stood up. Viktor’s hand steadied your calf and thigh when you wobbled a bit. “I don’t keep track of from who.”

You brushed past Jayce and went directly to the room that held your sister.

“Stolen from a lot of people?” Jayce repeated.

Viktor grabbed his crutch and stood up, accepting Jayce’s offered hand. “You don’t know what it’s like in the Undercity,” Viktor reminded him. “You go home. I’ll stay with them.”

“Are you—“

“Go, Jayce,” Viktor said, a rare authority ringing in his tone. “I’ll stay with them.”

Slowly Jayce gathered his things and headed home for the night. Viktor knocked on the door with soft raps before he opened the door.

You were sitting in the floor, holding Jinx’s hand that hang from the couch in yours. It draped across your shoulder. You looked up at Viktor and then looked away.

He took a seat in the plush chair across from the two of you. He sighed as his aching bones relaxed just the slightest.

“When I was eight, I tried to steal food from some riverside restaurant. I wasn’t fast. I got caught,” he said. “I was ten when I attempted to steal again. It was after my parents died in the mines.”

“Are you trying to make me let my guard? Admit to something I’m not even sure she did,” that was a lie. You did know but no need to tell him that.

He shook his head, his lip went inward a bit as the edges tilted down. “No, no, I’m simply telling you I understand.”

You exhaled through your nose and leaned your head against Jinx’s arm.

Silence came between the two of you. It wasn’t harsh. It wasn’t kind. It just was.

There hasn’t been much silence in your life ever. Not in Piltover. Certainly not in the Undercity. It was nice.

Viktor broke it, “She called you mom. You’re not. . .?”

“No,” you said, voice barely above a whisper, “no. She doesn’t really remember our parents much but mom always smelled like axel grease, she sang that song, and we have the same color hair. When she’s out of it, sometimes she gets confused.”

He hummed. “How often is she ‘out of it?’”

“Often enough that I’m used to her talking to people who aren’t there. It’s rare that it gets this bad though,” you told him.

“And do you?”

“No,” you answered. “What happened happened when she was pretty young. I was lucky enough to be old enough to understand when everything happened, all the time. I guess that’s a benefit to being the oldest.”

“How much older are you?” he asked.

“About eight years, give or take.”

“Your family?”

“All dead. Mom and dad died during the battle at the bridge. I was thirteen, Jinx was five? Vander and. . . our siblings died in an explosion when she was ten.”

“That must have been difficult.”

“I don’t want your pity.”

“You don’t have it,” he said. “I understand. I don’t have siblings but my parents died when I was young. For about a year I was by myself before I was taken in by a man but that didn’t last,” he told you. You met his eyes, golden like honey. “She’s lucky to have you.”

“I think it’s the other way around,” you said.

“It can be both.”

“Thank you for staying with her,” you said. “A lot of people don’t.”

“Of course.”

He said it like it was so easy. Like it was nothing. Like you hadn’t had people yell at you when you were on the streets and she started muttering to herself that you needed to take her to her parents and get her evaluated as she started hitting her head.

He said it like it was simple.

Maybe with him it could be.

[a-whispering-echo]

Princess Killer of Velegore

(yes, i know i spelt it wrong on the image. the text version is written correctly!)

Killer is quick-witted, flirty, and sly, with a dark sense of humour and a tendency to push boundaries. He as a habit of pushing and pushing people until they snap; Nightmare doesn’t know if he doesn’t realise does he this, or its its some kind of sadism. He often tells jokes, and though many may seem dark or cynical, there’s an undertone of genuine humour in them he’s even got CROSS with the odd good one!. He gents bored VERY easily, cant sit still, cant pay attention to CERTAIN things, and has a love of telling jokes -

Initially, Nightmare is intrigued and a bit wary of Killer’s flirtatious and teasing nature, unsure if he’s being genuine or manipulative. But as time goes on, Nightmare realizes that Killer’s provocative behaviour is a shield against vulnerability. Nightmare finds himself growing fond of Killer’s sharp wit and his loyalty beneath the teasing exterior.

Killer’s relentless teasing sometimes bothers Cross, who takes things seriously, but he learns to use humour to deflect Killer’s jabs. Killer is drawn to Dust’s odd behaviour, possibly both fascinated and disturbed by his hallucinations, which he sometimes finds darkly humorous, though he never laughs at Dust directly. With Horror, Killer has a unique bond - Horror’s straightforward sweetness balances Killer’s intensity, and Killer finds himself inexplicably protective of him.

Killer, on hearing what his potential partner was like, found him quite sexy. He quite liked the idea of being bossed about by this man with all the power, and was keen to work with him. He wouldn’t say he’s DISAPPOINTED when he met Nightmare for real, but he isn’t what he was expecting.

-

Velegore is a mysterious kingdom famous for its dark, intricate art, masterful weapon craftsmanship, and elite assassins’ guilds. Its people are known for their strength and wit, excelling in strategy and subterfuge. Velegore exports high-quality armour and rare gemstones found in its extensive mines.

Customs & Culture: Velegore has a tradition of intense, often theatrical displays of strength and wit, where challenges and contests are common among nobles. The kingdom celebrates the Night of Masks, a midwinter festival where everyone, from peasants to royalty, wears masks and mingles anonymously, embracing a night of freedom and mischief.

Religion: Velegore worships the Umbral Pantheon, a group of deities representing darkness, shadows, and hidden knowledge. It’s believed that these deities protect secrets and grant wisdom to those who can navigate the shadows.

Royalty: The King of Velegore, King Sable, is known for his pragmatism and ruthlessness. His reign is secure through careful, almost paranoid control, making him wary of threats even from within his family. Killer, being one of several siblings, is the second-born son, raised in a family with many potential heirs due to the kingdom’s hazardous political landscape. Having many siblings indicates the kingdom’s need for a secure line, as heirs are occasionally lost in the internal conflicts that arise among Velegore’s cut-throat nobility.

Architecture: Velegore is known for its dramatic, imposing architecture, with squat, angular buildings that seem to meld into the shadowy landscape and slanted roofing. The buildings are constructed from dark wood and iron, with narrow, barred windows and tall, thin watchtowers that cast ominous shadows. The kingdom values defensive structures, with walls and gates hidden by thickets of thorns and barbed plants.

Clothing: Clothing in Velegore tends toward black, red, and gray, often adorned with silver. Silks and cotton are rare, so most fabrics are thick wool, leather, or flax, providing some protection while remaining lightweight for quick movement. Jewellery often includes polished iron, rubies, or garnets, and some choose to wear protective talismans made from animal bones or metal.

Climate: Velegore’s climate is cooler, with harsh, misty mornings and short, dim days. The overcast skies give the kingdom an eerie quality, with rolling fog that suits its dark forests and murky marshes.

Diet: The people of Velegore rely on game, preserved meats, root vegetables, and foraged berries.. Meals are basic but intensely flavoured, with heavy seasoning to balance the somewhat meagre diet available. Fresh food is often scarce, as they lack the agricultural bounty of other kingdoms. Killer himself is fond of strong spices, though they all come from trade, and are VERY expensive.

Fauna & Flora: Velegore’s wildlife includes nocturnal creatures like bats, wolves, and owls, all of which are symbols of strength and stealth. Local plants include wolfsbane, nightshade, and thorn bushes, often used in Velegore’s folk remedies and warding charms. Dyes from local berries and plants are used to create deep crimson and midnight hues for their clothing. All ‘black’ dye is actually a very dark blue.

this is gonna be the last post for a few days, cus like, busy time and al that lololol

[poppitron360]

Want another fanfic? Well you’re getting one.

— — — — — — — — —

“Hey.”

Leo leaned next to Percy on the railing, looking out at the sea.

“Hey,” Percy replied, “Gods, big fight tomorrow.”

“Yeah…”

“It helps knowing we’ve got that physician’s cure.”

“Yeah…” Leo repeated, his shoulders stiffening uncomfortably.

He was quiet for a count of ten.

“You were there when Beckendorf died, right?”

Percy blinked, the question sudden. “I- I was, yes. Gods- it would’ve been almost a year ago now.”

Leo wasn’t looking at him. His eyes were locked on the sunset. They held a sort of weird sadness to them- a quiet, solemn acceptance that Percy recognised, but he wasn’t sure from where.

“Wh- why do you ask?”

Leo sighed, “I dunno… just… all this talk of one of us dying made me think about what he did. His sacrifice…”

Percy’s brow furrowed in concern. He put a hand on Leo’s shoulder, and made him turn to face him.

“Leo, what’s going on?” He said, “Is something-“

Leo didn’t meet his eye, “It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it. Forget I said anything.”

“Did something happen with Asclepius?”

“No! It’s nothing,” he turned back to the railing, “It’s just… I never met the guy, but I heard he was great. The effect his death had on my siblings was just… It just blows my mind sometimes how much impact you can have on a person. That even though I never knew him, I still felt the loss of him. I just wonder…”

It was then Percy realised where he’d seen that look before. It was the same look Beckendorf had had on there Princess Andromeda, his finger on the detonator, telling Percy to run. The firm resolution of the knowledge of what had to be done.

“Leo, you-“

It was then that Leo finally locked eyes with him. He held his gaze without saying anything for several seconds.

“Y-you’re not planning on… following in his footsteps- are you?” Percy asked, apprehensively.

Leo flashed him his trademark cheshire-cat grin. “Of course not!” He said, breaking the eye contact, “Just wondering, you know?”

“Leo-“

“Everything’s fine, Percy. Now we should probably get some sleep. Like you said- big day tomorrow!”

Leo walked away from the railing and was down the hatch into the deck below without another word. Percy was left staring out to sea. He remembered the shoreline of Manhattan just in view as the cruise ship approached. He remembered how Camp Half-Blood had looked as he’d broken the news. Percy had been through so much since then, but he never forgot. He remembered Bianca, Zoë, and Selena, too. All people he never got a chance to save.

He might not make it out alive tomorrow. But he’d be damned if he let anyone else die under his watch.

He looked back at the hatch. He hoped that Leo wasn’t planning what he thought he was planning. If he was… Percy just hoped he could save him in time.

— — — — — — — — —

Platonic Perleo I love you. Percy’s trauma coming in full force.

@euryvices-deactivated20241019 @deciduowl @lavenderfairiez @ottpopfic @ginnyluna @groverapologist @echo-stimmingrose @demigod-shenanigans @keefessketchbook @sleepyycapybara @123letsgobestie @kaleidoskuls @fairytalesociology @four-leafed-queer-gal @child-of-helios @green-tea217 @puzzled-pegasus @twomanyfandomshelp @lokiwiiiiiii @yoshuko-ew @frayna-of-the-hollow @via-rant @daonedaonlyskh @hadeslegacyhephgirl @siimplyapril @pjowasmy1stfandom @thetourturedwritersclub @m-for-now

[bubbipond]

Bison had no intention (in the beginning) of being with Kant just as much as Kant/Style had/have no intentions of being with Fadel/Bison. Now this is just my opinion, and in no way, am I trying to be condescending (since I’ve gotten that before when I have made analysis posts). In a general sense, if you are easily defensive, maybe reading people’s opinions is not for you. But if you want to read because you like to read other people’s thoughts, enjoy. ❤️

I am going to use *10 Things as my reference because I think it leans more towards that adaption than it does *Taming. If you haven’t read Taming or watched 10 Things, this may help you understand what a lot of the fandom talks about. For those who have watched or read either of the references for THK we know that the story is that Kat (Fadel) is the impossible sister who will never marry, and that Bianca (Bison) is the sister that everybody wants. In order to get both of his daughter’s married, their father decides to make it a rule that the only way Bianca can get married is if Kat gets married. This leads to the plot of manipulating Kat into being “Tamed” by her love interest in the original text (the movie moves away from this and instead has Patrick love her for who she is).

Going back to Bison, his character reflects that of Bianca; the very popular, beautiful, and wanted little sister (brother). The thing that I think some people are getting wrong about Bison is that he is more of a loverboy than he actually is. In the movie adaption, Bianca has no intention of ever being with Cameron. I’d say she’s not even that into Joey either, just wants the popularity dating him brings. She uses him as a ruse to get Kat to finally date so she can date. In the beginning, she kind of sees Cameron as a cute puppy. Almost like this person that she can manipulate just because she knows they want something from her. She eventually does start to like Cameron, but there are trials that she has to go through to see that. That being said, I don’t think Bison initially wanted to be with Kant. I think much like Bianca he was trying to free himself from what he sees as a lack of freedom and free will.

It’s not that I’m saying he doesn’t want revenge for his parents (he obviously does, but that is seemingly a ruse by “mom” to keep them around). But it is more so that just like Bianca, his brother is an obstacle within itself. The issue here is that he loves his brother (just like Bianca loves Kat) but neither set of siblings truly knows the other. They fight to protect each other, but can’t even do that because how do you protect someone you don’t truly understand? The only person in the reference material who is truly a victim of the plot is Kat (Fadel) as they are the only people in their stories who have genuine feelings for Patrick (Style). At no point is any of it a joke or a game or even a ploy to get what they want. In general, neither Kat nor Fadel are that savvy and both are far too levelheaded to do anything that the other characters do. So when you look at the motivation behind Bison’s attempt at freedom, he has to be far more savvy than anyone around him.

This is because you have to keep in mind that both Bianca and Bison’s goals aren’t to trick or hurt their sibling. They are looking for someone who would love their “difficult” sibling while also getting something in return. Bison didn’t mean for Kant to hire someone to fake like his brother. Just as much as Bianca didn’t ask Cameron to hire someone to fake date her sister. They are both fiercely protective of their older sibling and that is why we constantly see Bison five steps ahead or paying attention to things that even Fadel isn’t. I think what adds to the story is that the stakes are much higher. In 10 Things you have a bunch of high schoolers dealing with pretty high school issues. But in this sense, you have people’s livelihood at stake. So I think it feels like so much more pain is being brought up than in the original media. It’s easier to find fault in Kant, Style, and Bison because we’re watching a bunch of people do pretty terrible things. But I think for this type of story, you have to kind of remove morals because all four are pretty morally gray. None of them are perfect people or, like in the movie, kids.

Anyway, that’s all for me! Bye!

*Taming = Taming of the Shrew by William Shakespeare (play) *10 Things=10 Things I Hate About You (movie adaption of said play).

[lortsyall]

Echoes of Eywa's Child.

chapter 2.

(Neteyam x Human!Reader series)

Pending...Pending...

Date: August 10th,2170.

Location: Marui,High Camp,Mons Veritatis,Hallelujah Mountains,Pandora.

Time: 1:56 PM.

Life had always demanded more of me. As the eldest son of Toruk Makto the 6th, I was born into expectations as heavy as the mountains, molded by a legacy I had no choice but to carry. For as long as I could remember, my path was laid before me—protector, warrior, leader,big brother. It was a path carved in blood and sacrifice, one I couldn’t veer from even if I wanted to.

The war had changed everything. When the RDA returned when I was only 15, they came with the same greed, the same hunger to strip Eywa’s creation of its breath. Their machines burned forests and poisoned rivers, their soldiers brought death with cold precision. But the war wasn’t just an enemy out there—it had carved itself into me.

I’d come closer to death than I care to admit. Fleeing to the Metkayina clan with my family,away from Quaritch and his puppets,was traumatizing,to say the least.

I always fit in the Omatikaya clan. I was already respected by so many clan leaders across the globe,already seen as a strong-willed,responsible and noble young warrior. The perfect next Olo'eyktan in line. But here...at sea...I was too stubborn to learn the ways of the Metkayina,scared I might lose myself. My ancestors. My traditions. The forest...Everything.

Sooner or later though,you always have to wake up back to reality. The RDA’s ships had pursued us relentlessly, their weapons tearing through the sea and air like the rage of a storm. After saving my siblings and our friend,Tsireya,my brother insisted on saving Spider as well.

I'll admit,I followed my mother's steps in distancing myself away from him as the years went by,though the brotherly bond we have carried ever since childhood lingered like a lost memory. Plus,I couldn't deny Lo'ak anything. Not in that moment.

As soon as we turned our backs to jump into the water,though...I felt it.

I’d hit the water hard, the force ripping the breath from my lungs. I fought to surface, but the panic, the crushing weight of the sea—it almost won.

All I could hear were Lo'ak's desperate cries pulling me on an ilu as he dragged me back to shore,along with the others. When I woke up, the first thing I felt was pain—white-hot and searing, burning across my chest where shrapnel had torn through flesh. The Tsahìk saved me, but she couldn’t erase the scar, jagged and cruel, that now ran from my collarbone to just above my heart,nor the memory that came with it. A bitter reminder of how close I’d come to losing everything.

That scar has stayed with me, a mark of survival, but also of failure. I should’ve been stronger, faster, better. I’m alive, but at what cost? The memory of my siblings’ terror, my parents’ fear—it’s a weight I still carry, even in moments of peace.

Sometimes,I still hear my mother's screams late at night. It's terrifying.

And now, the war feels like a constant shadow, lingering even in the quiet. I’ve learned to keep my thoughts guarded, my fears buried. We're back in the forest,thankfully,but we still live in the Hallelujah Mountains. The clan looks to me for strength, for guidance. They see a warrior who has proven himself time and time again. They don’t see the cracks beneath, the moments when I wonder if I’ve given too much of myself to a fight that may never truly end.

I’m of age now. Been for some time. I went through all the rites of passage,starting with becoming the youngest Omatikaya to make a clean kill on the Sturmbeest hunt,going through Iknimaya,and surviving Uniltaron,the Dream Hunt. After transferring into adulthood, an Omatikaya Na'vi has two things left to do: craft a bow from the wood of the fallen Hometree,and find a mate. Yet I've checked only one thing on the list,and I guess it's obvious which one I'm talking about.

I get it. I'm 19 years old now. Old enough that the elders murmur about a mate, about settling down and adding to the clan’s numbers. My parents don’t pressure me—at least not directly—but I see it in my father’s proud nods, my mother’s quiet glances. They’re waiting for me to choose, to find someone who will stand beside me as I carry the mantle of our people. Not to mention,my brother has already been mated to Tsireya,and some people among the clan are...nosy, to say the least.

But how can I think of mates when my mind is a battlefield? When every time I look at the stars, I see the faces of those we’ve lost? Love feels like a luxury I can’t afford, a vulnerability I can’t risk. I can feel my father breathing down my neck,slowly preparing me with Olo'eyktan training. I don't even want to be the next chief. Not anymore. I’ve buried the idea so deep within me that even the thought of connection feels foreign,and I can't remember the first time I really opened up to someone. They already have their image of me.

Fierce young warrior. Next chief in line. Son of Toruk Makto. Great,right?Why should I ruin that for them?

And yet, there’s a part of me that wonders—when will I be more than this? When will I be something more than a protector, more than a warrior? Is there space for Neteyam beneath the weight of it all?

The air was thick with the smell of burning metal and the acrid tang of gunpowder. Around me, the sounds of battle echoed through the forest—the hum of RDA machinery, the snap of Na’vi bows, the shouts of humans and my people alike. My heart pounded in my chest, not from fear, but from the weight of responsibility.

My feet barely made a sound as I landed on the roof of the human truck. Beneath me, I could hear their muffled voices, panicked and sharp. They were scrambling, caught off guard by our ambush. Good.

I moved to the edge, my bow drawn and ready, scanning for my next target. That’s when I saw…her.

She was crouched behind a crate, her wide eyes darting around in terror. Her skin was almost glowing in the dim light, and her hands trembled as they gripped a human weapon. She was small, fragile even, compared to the others.

A soldier, perhaps? No, she didn’t move like one. She was scared, out of place. A tablet was in her small and dainty fingers,and it looked oddly familiar,like the ones Max and Norm usually toy with in the lab. So a scientist,then. Doesn’t matter.

I drew my bowstring tighter, the arrow poised to fly. My target was clear, my purpose steady. Until I saw it.

An atokirina.

The seed of the sacred tree floated gently down, its soft glow cutting through the chaos. My breath caught as it hovered near the girl, circling her like it was studying her. And then it landed, just for a moment, on her shoulder. Didn’t this happen to my parents when they met?

Eywa was watching. Yet the girl didn’t notice.

I hesitated, my fingers loosening on the bowstring. This wasn’t normal. The atokirina didn’t just appear without reason, and they didn’t linger around those unworthy of Eywa’s blessing. Yet here it was, touching her—a human.

Her gaze was fixed on the ground, her breathing shallow. She had no idea the seed was there, no idea what it meant,too focused on her own panicked heavy breathing.

The voices of the other warriors faded into the background. For a moment, it was just her, the glowing seed, and me.

I lowered my bow.

I could hear my father’s voice in my head, a memory from years ago: "Eywa sees more than we do, Neteyam. Sometimes, the why is not ours to understand."

“Drop it,” I said, my voice steady despite the conflict brewing inside me.

She looked up, startled, her eyes locking onto mine. Great Mother,what pretty eyes she has. It’s as if I could see her entire soul through them. For a second, I thought she might try to fight, but instead, she set the weapon down on the truck bed. Slowly, carefully.

I studied her. She was different from the others—softer, quieter. And yet, there was something in her eyes that spoke of a hidden strength. And me?Well,let’s just say there was something almost…ethereal and noble in her fear that made me admire her.

“You do not belong here,” I said.

Her lips parted, as if she wanted to respond, but no words came out. The atokirina hovered again, as if to emphasize my point, before drifting off into the trees.

I couldn’t explain why, but I felt a strange pull toward her. Not sympathy—not yet—but curiosity. Eywa had chosen her for something, and it wasn’t my place to question the will of the Great Mother.

The sound of an AMP suit crashing nearby snapped me back to reality.

“Run,” I urged her, my voice low.

“What—”

“Go!” I barked, the command sharper now. She flinched but obeyed, scrambling off the truck and disappearing into the chaos. I cannot let the others see her,or she’ll get an arrow straight to her heart. The Great Mother put this responsibility in my hands,and I simply cannot let her get hurt. It must be a sign.

When the ambush was over, I retreated with the others, my thoughts still tangled around the human girl. The site was a mess,but at least we did what we had in mind. All of their cargo was either destroyed or stolen,and I doubt they won’t send out search parties for our heads.

Back at our camp, I sat by the fire, staring into the flames thoughtfully. Their dance was mesmerizing, a kaleidoscope of amber and gold licking against charred wood, with hints of blue at the edges where the heat was fiercest. The fire cracked and hissed, tiny sparks shooting upward to join the stars above. It felt alive, almost like Eywa herself whispered through its flickering rhythm.

Yet, even as the flames captivated me, my thoughts were elsewhere. On her. The girl in the forest.

Her scent still lingered faintly in my memory, something soft and sweet, like flowers I couldn’t name mixed with earth after rain. Her big eyes had been filled with fear, yet there had been something else too—curiosity, maybe? Defiance? I couldn’t decide which had unsettled me more. Her delicate frame, so unlike the strength we Na’vi pride ourselves on, seemed breakable, yet her spirit shone through her trembling form.

And then there was the atokirina. A single seed of the great tree had floated between us, its gentle glow bathing her face in an ethereal light. It had hovered briefly, as though weighing something unseen, before drifting closer to her. The moment felt... significant, as though Eywa herself had chosen her. Funny how she did not even notice such a blessing.

I had been ready to draw my bow, my duty clear in my mind. Sky People were a threat. A poison. It doesn’t matter that I share both human and Na’vi ancestors. Neither does the fact that my dad was one of them once. In my eyes,he is Na’vi. Just as everyone part of the Resistance. Yet the sight of her—so pure, so deliberate,so…utterly chaotic and scared—lingers in my thoughts. Something in me shifted then, a quiet nudge deep within my soul. I let her go, even when I knew my parents would question my decision.

Now, as the fire crackled before me, I couldn’t help but wonder: who was she? Why did Eywa send a sign? And why did I feel as though letting her go had set something far greater into motion?

The camp was buzzing with movement. The humans part of the Resistance were all in the biolab quarters, tending to their Avatars’ wounds. Lo’ak, my younger brother, plopped down beside me, his usual smirk replaced by a look of concern.

“You’re quiet,” he said, poking at the fire with a stick. “Sa’eyla said some shit went down. Something happen out there?”

I hesitated. “There was a girl.”

He raised an eyebrow. “A girl? Like, a human girl?”

“Yes,” I said, my voice firm. “And Eywa sent an atokirina to her.”

Lo’ak looked at me, confused, the stick in his hand forgotten. “What do you mean?”

I let out a loud sigh. Why is this interaction with her bothering me so much? “Just as I was ready to fire my bow, an atokirina landed on the head of this tawtute eve. As if telling me to lower my bow.”

“Are you serious?”

“I am.”

He let out a low whistle. “Well, that’s... something.” He leaned closer, his voice dropping. “What are you gonna do about it?”

I shook my head. “Nothing. For now. It’s not like I can do much, anyway.”

“Sounds like someone’s already in over his head,” came Kiri’s teasing voice as she approached from the shadows. She carried a bundle of herbs, her expression curious. “What’s this about an atokirina?”

Lo’ak smirked, scooting over to make room for her by the fire. “Our big brother here almost got bested by Eywa’s will.”

Kiri raised an eyebrow, sitting down. “That sounds interesting. Go on.”

I hesitated, but I knew Kiri’s connection to Eywa might help make sense of this. “There was a human girl. She wasn’t like the others—she didn’t fight. And an atokirina came to her. It lingered above her head. Right as I was about to…to kill her.”

Kiri’s expression turned thoughtful. She set the herbs aside, her hands resting on her knees. “Eywa does not make mistakes, Neteyam.”

“I know,” I said, frustrated. “But why her? She’s... she’s one of them. I have no idea why it’s bothering me so much. It’s like a buzz in my head.”

Lo’ak snorted. “Maybe the Great Mother’s matchmaking now.”

“Lo’ak,” Kiri said sharply, shooting him a look that silenced his grin. Her attention returned to me. “Eywa sees the heart, not the body. Maybe this girl is different. Maybe she’s meant to change something.”

I frowned, staring at the fire as its light danced across the darkened camp. “But how can I trust that? How can I trust her? I don’t even know her name and yet…” I hesitated, running a hand down my face. I really don’t need another teasing remark from Lo’ak.  “Gosh, I don’t even want to think about it anymore. Forget it.”

Kiri smiled faintly, her voice soft. “Sometimes, Eywa doesn’t ask for trust. She asks for faith.”

Lo’ak leaned back, looking between us with a sly grin. “Well, sounds like you’ve got a lot to think about, bro. Or maybe, you’re just scared of a tawtute girl.”

I shot him a glare, but Kiri nudged his arm before I could retort. “Leave him alone, Lo’ak,” she said, her tone amused but protective. “This isn’t something to joke about.”

Her gaze returned to me, her expression serious. “Whatever it is, Neteyam, trust that Eywa will reveal it in time. You’ll know what to do when the moment comes.”

And as the fire crackled between us, I couldn’t help but feel the weight of her words. Whether I was ready for it or not, my path—and hers—was no longer just my own.

In the days following the ambush, my thoughts lingered on her. I hadn’t told my parents yet. My father, Jake, carried enough weight on his shoulders. Every decision, every strategy, every skirmish—it was all for the survival of our people. He didn’t need my confusion about a single human clouding his focus. And my mother, Neytiri… she wouldn’t understand. Her hatred for the sky people ran deep, forged in blood and loss, and for good reason.

But I couldn’t ignore it.

One evening, I couldn’t sleep. Tossing and turning in my marui,only to be kept awake by my own thoughts. I hated whenever this happened. When no position was comfortable,my skin felt on fire and I would get more annoyed and tired by the second. I got up and slowly made my way through the campgrounds,passing by people alike,lost in their dreams.

What I’d do to be in their place.

Calling for my ikran, I waited as she descended gracefully, her form blending seamlessly with the star-speckled sky. When she landed, I took a moment to rest my forehead against hers, finding comfort in her steady presence. Together, we soared into the night, the cool wind sweeping away some of the weight on my chest.

Our destination was inevitable: the remnants of Utraya Mokri.

Once, long before I was born, this was the site of the great Tree of Voices—a place of profound connection where our ancestors’ memories thrived. But during the war, the humans came and destroyed it, severing that sacred link. In its place, saplings had begun to grow, fragile yet persistent, spreading slowly across the scarred land. They shimmered now, soft bioluminescent light dancing in the dark. It was a bittersweet sight—proof of Eywa’s resilience, but also a reminder of what had been lost.

I landed and dismounted, walking to the center of the grove. The soil was cool beneath me as I sat cross-legged, surrounded by the glow of the saplings. Gently, I wrapped the tendrils of a sacred vine around my queue, seeking solace in even the faintest connection. It wasn’t strong enough to download memories or speak with the ancestors, but it was something—a tether to Eywa. And maybe, just maybe, she would hear me.

The connection came swiftly, a wave of warmth and calm coursing through me, easing the storm within. I closed my eyes, lowering my head.

“Great Mother,” I whispered, my voice trembling. “Why her? Why a sky person?”

The forest seemed to exhale, its life humming softly around me. The glow of the saplings pulsed gently, as if in answer. I tried to silence my doubts, to push past the fear and confusion. My father had always told me to trust Eywa, even when her ways seemed inscrutable. But this... this felt different.

A memory surfaced unbidden—my father’s voice from years ago. He had been telling us about how Eywa had chosen him, a human, to unite the clans. “Eywa doesn’t see as we do, Neteyam,” he’d said. “She sees balance. Potential. She sees what we cannot.”

A force for balance,maybe. For something greater than I could comprehend.

The thought brought both comfort and unease. I opened my eyes to the glow of the saplings, their light steady and unyielding.

“Help me understand,” I murmured, my words barely audible. The forest around me thrummed once more, but no answer came—at least, not in words. Yet the stillness wasn’t empty. It carried something intangible, something that settled in my heart.

Perhaps the answer would come in time.For now, it would have to be enough.

The jungle was alive with its usual symphony of sounds—the distant calls of viperwolves, the rustle of leaves as a gust of wind swept through the trees. But my focus was razor-sharp, every movement of my body calculated as I followed the humans' trail.

Our scouts had reported another transport heading deeper into the forest, likely bringing more machines or weapons.My father had been clear: Observe, but do not engage. Watch, learn, and then strike if the time is right.

I crouched on a thick branch, hidden by the foliage, my bow resting lightly in my hand. Below me, the humans moved in a tight formation, their vehicles rumbling loudly and their voices carrying through the air. Among them, I saw her again.

She wasn’t dressed like a soldier. Her clothing was simpler, and she carried a small device in her hands, her gaze flicking between it and the terrain around her. She looked… out of place, as though she belonged somewhere quieter, somewhere far from the chaos of this world.

The same tug I’d felt during the ambush returned, stronger this time. But I forced it down.

She’s one of them.

And yet, I couldn’t look away.

We shadowed them for hours, moving through the trees as they trudged through the undergrowth. They stopped occasionally, setting up equipment and scanning the area. The girl seemed focused on whatever task she had been assigned,a small fierce nature in her body, but there was a tension in her posture, a hesitance in her movements.

As the group reached a clearing, my father’s voice came through the earpiece we used for communication.

“Pathfinder, fall back. Let them move on.Over.”

I hesitated. Something wasn’t right.

“Neteyam,” my father’s voice was firmer now. Shit. “Do you copy?”

“Yes,father.” I replied quietly. But I didn’t move.

The attack happened so fast, even I didn’t see it coming.

Viperwolves, drawn by the noise of the humans’ machines, erupted from the shadows. Their snarls shattered the fragile quiet, and the humans scrambled into action, shouting and firing their weapons. Chaos consumed the clearing, the air thick with smoke, fear, and violence.

And in the middle of it all, I saw her freeze.

Her wide eyes darted around, her body stiff as stone. She didn’t run, didn’t fight. Instead, she crouched low, pressing herself against a fallen log, trying to make herself invisible as the chaos surged around her.

I should’ve left. I should’ve followed my father’s orders, retreated into the safety of the trees. But the sight of her, small and vulnerable, anchored me in place. I couldn’t leave her.

Before I realized it, I was moving.

I landed silently behind her, my bow slung over my shoulder as I unsheathed my knife. The viperwolves hadn’t noticed her yet, but it wouldn’t be long before they caught her scent. I could see their noses twitching at the foreign human scent.

“Move,” I whispered, my voice low but firm.

She whipped around. For a moment, she didn’t react, her mouth opening slightly as if to say something. I could see it in her eyes. She recognized me.

“Holy shit,you–”

“Now!” I hissed, grabbing her arm and pulling her up.

She stumbled but followed, her legs moving awkwardly as I led her away from the clearing. The sounds of gunfire and snarls faded as we put distance between ourselves and the fight.

The forest was eerily quiet now, the aftermath of the viperwolf attack leaving a tense stillness in the air. She stood there, staring at me with wide eyes, her breaths coming fast and shallow. I could see the tremor in her hands, the slight quake of her legs—fear, exhaustion, or both.

I didn’t know what I was doing. Eywa’s will tugged at me like a strong current, the memory of the atokirina circling her vivid in my mind.

I raised a hand to my throat comm, pressing it lightly as I spoke in Na’vi. “Eagle Eye, I have a situation,over.”

“Holy shit,dude!Where’d you disappear?Over-” My brother’s voice came through, laced with confusion. I figure he fled back with the others. “What’s going on?”

“I found that girl again. The one I told you about. I’m taking her back to camp. Go on without me.Over.” I said, my words clipped. I’ll never hear the end of it.

“What?” Lo’ak’s shock was evident, his voice rising. “Why would you—”

“I’ll explain later. Tell Father and Kiri to meet me. And be ready. Over and out.”

Before Lo’ak could respond, I cut the connection and turned back to the girl. Her gaze flicked between me and the trees, as if she was debating whether to run.

“You’re coming with me,” I said firmly.

Her brow furrowed. “What? No, I—”

I didn’t give her a chance to finish. Stepping forward, I grabbed her wrist—not hard, but enough to guide her—and began leading her through the trees,calling for my ikran. She struggled against my grip.

“Let go of me!Are you fucking insane?!Why did you–” she hissed.

“We need to move,” I said sharply,cutting her off. “The forest isn’t safe for you.”

“Yeah,no shit.” she bit back,panic present in her tone. Does she think I’m kidnapping her?

When my ikran came to us, the girl froze, her eyes widening at the sight of the massive, winged creature. It let out a low growl, its sharp eyes narrowing at her.

“No way,” she said, shaking her head. “I am not getting on that thing.”

“You don’t have a choice,” I said, swinging up onto the ikran’s back and reaching down for her.

She hesitated, but when the distant laugh of a viperwolf echoed through the trees, she grabbed my hand and let me pull her up. She’s so light.

“Hold on,” I said, guiding her arms around my waist.

She muttered something under her breath, but she obeyed.

With a sharp call, I urged my ikran into the air, the wind rushing past us as we soared above the forest.

The Hallelujah Mountains loomed ahead, their floating peaks glowing faintly in the evening light. I focused on the flight, trying to ignore the growing tension I felt with her pressed against my back.

It wasn’t until we began our descent toward the high base that she spoke.

“You think I don’t understand you?”

Her voice, so sudden, startled me. She was quiet the entire ride and now she speaks?

I twisted slightly to glance back at her, my eyes narrowing. “What are you talking about?”

“When you spoke earlier, in Na’vi. I understood you. You’re taking me back to...to torture me or what?!” she said, her tone biting,but I could sense the fear and tremble in her tone. Feisty little thing.

My heart skipped a beat. She understood? How?

“You speak my language?” I asked, my voice sharp with disbelief.

“You didn’t answer my question!” she snapped, her grip tightening on my waist as the ikran dipped slightly. Fuck,I’m getting lightheaded with the way her tiny hands grips my waist like that. “Why does it matter? Why am I here?”

I didn’t answer immediately. We landed on a wide platform near the high base, the soft thud of the ikran’s claws echoing against the rock. She climbed off quickly, putting distance between us as she glared at me. How do I even explain to her?

“Tell me,” she demanded, her voice rising. “Why did you take me? Why didn’t you just leave me there?”

I slid off the ikran, keeping my gaze steady on hers. “You would have died.”

“I could’ve handled it!” she said, her voice trembling with frustration. Yeah,right. Surely you would have handled dying,little tawtute. “I didn’t ask for your help!”

I took a step closer, my expression hard. “And yet,you were frozen. If I hadn’t acted, the viperwolves would have torn you apart.”

Her anger faltered, and she looked away, her fists clenching at her sides. “I didn’t need saving.”

“You don’t understand this world,” I said, my voice softening. “It’s not like Earth. It will kill you if you’re not careful.”

She looked back at me then, her eyes burning with a mix of anger and something else—something I couldn’t quite place.

“Then why not leave me there?Away from the attack.” she asked quietly. “Why take me with you?”

For a moment, I didn’t know how to answer. The truth was tangled up in feelings I didn’t fully understand myself—in the memory of the atokirina, in the way Eywa seemed to whisper through the forest that she was important. In the way I felt when I stared into her eyes.

“Because we need intel from inside the RDA. And you seemed like a good fit,you know. Small,feisty scientist who didn’t show any signs of a threat. ” I lied, the words slipping out before I could stop them,though I kept a certain amount of smugness in my teasing.

Her brows furrowed in confusion,almost as if she was…offended. “What are you talking about?”

I hesitated, debating how much to tell her. I pet my ikran before I started wlalking into a cave. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“Try me,” she said, crossing her arms.

Gosh,she’s so infuriating. Maybe I should have left her with the viperwolves. I turn around to her,simply cross my arms in defiance,towering over her small stature with a silent smirk. For a moment, she was observing, her gaze searching mine. I'm too stubborn to talk further. Plus,she's...pretty like this. She let out a sharp laugh, shaking her head. “You’re insane.”

“Maybe,” I said, a faint smile tugging at my lips. She’s got jokes,huh. I like that. “Takes one to know one.”

Her laughter faded, and she looked at me with an expression I couldn’t quite read. “What happens now?”

I straightened, my resolve hardening. “I…don’t know. We’ll figure it out once we get there.”

She didn’t argue this time. Instead, she simply nodded, her shoulders slumping slightly as if the fight had gone out of her.

“And for the record,I’m not going to torture you. We’re not barbarians.”

I heard a weak chuckle leave her lips as she followed behind me,and…it was a pretty sweet sound. 

But I knew this was only the beginning. Whatever Eywa’s plan was, it had already begun.

[yourgentlegirlfriend]

The space between

Chapter two: “Kook Life”

ALL RIGHTS TO NETFLIX AND OUTERBANKS

Warnings!: Mentions of violence and fighting! Water boarding and gun violence in this chapter! Please read at your own caution!

I’m thinking of making a taglist! Please comment if you’d like to be on it!

Wattpad:yourgentlegirlfriend

The hurricane hit hard. Nothing that Eves family had ever experienced before, a storm they would not have been able to weather if it wasn’t for Ward Cameron.

Eve felt guilty, a weird feeling constantly stirring in her stomach about the man. Mainly because her father always was willing to talk about work, his work is his pride, his joy, he always is talking about something he’s working on. But since they moved here, he’s been silent, constantly out and around town. Its odd considering he doesn’t even make time for his family anymore.

When the hurricane hit though he was forced to, the front door creaked open, echoing through the whole house.

Eve stood up, fanning herself as she hurried out her bedroom door to see her dad put down a bag of groceries, her hands shoved in her pockets as she walked to the counter and pulled herself up onto it.

“So… How long did they say the power was going to be cut?”

Carlos sighed, shoving all the bread and canned foods into the cabinet- not a good sign.

“They said they have no clue. I went to look at the price of a generator, wondering if I could pull out a loan for one but they are over twenty thousand dollars.”

One thing Eve hated was seeing her dad stressed, she frowned, her legs swinging slightly as she rubbed the back of her neck.

“Why don’t you ask Ward?”

Just as she thought, her dad shot her a dirty look, shaking his head.

“We don’t do handouts in this family, Evelyn and you know that.”

Eve looked down at her legs, putting her hands up in defense at the sound of her full name.

“Alright, alright I’m sorry.”

Carlos walked away down the hall, Eve flinching as the garage door slammed. She hated that she couldn’t help, getting a job in the area was almost impossible. Thankfully they’d been here a month now so it wasn’t as horrible as the first week.

Sarah had invited her over to her house, telling her she could shower and stay at hers till some party at the beach. She claimed it was a tradition.

Finally understanding what Kooks and Pogues meant, she hated it. She knew that economical standpoints were definitely noticeable but to separate them completely? Sarah didn’t agree either thankfully or she wouldn’t even associate with her.

The only reason she hangs around Topper and all of them was for Sarah. Sarah was truthfully the first real friend she’s ever had, she understood her in a way nobody ever has.

Having a dad who is so business oriented and two siblings, absent mother type of thing, Sarah was always her shoulder to cry on. Even though it had only been a month the two were super close.

Eve dug through her drawers, holding her bag in one hand as she shoved some shorts and a bathing suit top, into it followed by a pair of pajama pants and a random shirt.

“Where are you going?”

Eves mom, Jessica asked. Holding a basket of clean water she had saved before the hurricane.

“Dad already said I can go. I’m going to hang out with Sarah.”

Jessica wanted to snap back but knew if Carlos heard she would’ve gotten an ear full. Eve zipped up her backpack as she watched her mom walk away, a sigh of relief leaving her as she slipped the backpack on and hurried out the front door.

Carlos said no using the truck so they could save gas till everything was normal again, so the walk to Sarah’s was pretty far. Her hands gripped at the straps of her backpack as she walked up the dirt road, humming a soft tune.

The walk took her much longer than it should’ve, finally making it to the Cameron’s house, Eve scratched her head as she pushed open the front door. Their lights were on, what, they had a generator?

For once she used the term Kooks in her head. She jogged up the steps and down the long winding hallway and to Sarah’s room, seeing the note on her bed that said she went out for errands and that the phone didn’t work so she couldn’t call to tell her, but to go sit on the boat till she gets back.

Eve sighed and looked out Sarah’s window to see the long dock to the boat. She tugged her shirt off and put her bathing suit top on before she walked back down the steps, almost falling as Rafe met halfway at the staircase.

“Woah slow your roll, going down way too fast.”

Rafe. Great. The last the two had spoken was at the party the night of the dinner, and it ended in her arguing with him on the porch, and thankfully Topper and Sarah stepped in to stop it or she was confident she would’ve beat his ass.

“Nice to see you Rafe.”

“You mooching off us? Because Sarah’s not home..”

Eve rolled her eyes and went to push past him, Rafe stepped sideways, his arm brushing against the railing of the stairs as he blocked her path.

“You didn’t answer my question,” he said, his tone laced with sarcasm. “Or are you too busy pretending you don’t hate it here?”

Eve froze, feeling her patience wearing thin. She took a step back, crossing her arms.

“I’m not pretending anything. And if I wanted to mooch, I’d ask Ward for a generator like the rest of this town probably does.”

The smirk faded from Rafe’s face, replaced by something colder and sharper. “Careful, California. You’re out of your element.”

Eve tilted her head, the mocking nickname grating on her nerves. “You think I care? Sarah invited me. So, if you’ve got a problem, take it up with her.”

Rafe chuckled, low and humorless, leaning in slightly as he spoke. “You know, it’s cute how you think Sarah’s on your side. You’re just a fun little project for her. She’ll get bored eventually.”

That struck a nerve. Eve’s fists clenched at her sides, but instead of giving him the reaction he wanted, she forced herself to laugh, her hand tapping at his shoulder as she nodded her head.

“Thanks for your insight Rafe.”

Eve smiled at him, her nose scrunching slightly as she hurried down the steps, walking out the back door, she hadn’t been on a boat for years

Stepping into the boat, Eve let out an audible sigh of relief as the cool air conditioning hit her heated skin. The sensation didn’t last long though, her eyes landed on someone standing in the middle of the cabin, a boy? or maybe a man? Frozen mid-action with scuba gear in his hands.

They locked eyes, and for a moment, neither of them spoke.

“Uh, hey”

He spoke, finally breaking the silence.

“Hi?”

Eve replied her confusion was obvious as her gaze flicked from his face to the scuba gear he clutched awkwardly.

He hesitated before quickly setting the gear down and extending a hand.

“I’m John B. I work for Ward. I, uh, clean the boat.”

The silence that followed was more than uncomfortable, and Eve shifted on her feet before he thankfully spoke again.

“You new around here? I don’t think I’ve seen you before.”

“Yes.”

The girl said with a small shrug as she sank down into the couch, letting the cool air hit her overly flushed skin.

“Guess I don’t exactly blend in.”

John B chuckled, a genuine, easy laugh that made her crack a small smile. He pulled the scuba tanks over his shoulder, nodding toward her.

“I’ve gotta fill these up for Ward, but it was nice meeting you, Eve.”

“You too,”

She replied, trying not to sound like she was extremely suspicious watching him as he headed out the door.

The longer she sat in the AC, the more she felt herself drifting into sleep, her legs draping over the couch arm as her eyes fluttered closed.

“Sorry, God downtown is packed.”

Sarah’s voice made Eve shoot back up, rubbing her eyes as she looked over to see Sarah slipping her sandals off and walking into the cabin of the boat.

The silence lingered as she thought about her altercation with Rafe, her encounter with John B. Her tongue poked at her cheek as she stared out the window as the boat moved with the very soft waves.

“Does he ever let up?”

Eve asked, breaking the longing silence.

“Who? Rafe?”

Sarah asked as she looked out one of the small windows of the boat, seeing Rafe on the porch.

“No. It’s his full time job to be a pain in the ass to every single person in his life.”

Sarah said laughing as she sat down next to Eve, her legs crossing over hers as she looked over at her.

“But I’m sure you’ve noticed that already?”

“Noticed is the light way to put it, more like I’ve endured it already.”

The two laughed for a bit, but suddenly Sarah stared off into the distance and frowned a bit, her head slumping down into her shoulder.

“He wasn’t always a dick. He’s just always angry at everyone, probably mainly at himself.”

Sarah sighed as she looked over at Eve again.

“I get it. My older brother is the same way. It.. lays in the parents- I'm not saying Ward is a bad dad but.. when these things aren’t talked about, it builds up..”

Sarah just nodded, listening to the water splash against the sides of the boat.

“Do you ever feel like you don’t belong here?”

Eve asked, staring up at the ceiling of the cabin, her hands folded on her chest.

“All the time. That’s why I hang out with you, it’s less complicated.”

——————————————————————

The night fell quickly, Eve and Sarah laughing loudly, echoing through the house as Sarah smudged lipgloss on the girl. Eve had somehow been convinced by Sarah to get her makeup done, she did love makeup but it’s expensive to keep up with.

Sarah turned her around in the chair. Eve blinked at herself in the mirror, smiling. It wasn’t a huge noticeable change.

“It’s just some mascara, lipgloss and blush, bringing out your natural beauty of course.”

Eve nodded as Sarah styled her hair for her. Watching as she grabbed her bag ready to leave, She peaked out the window at the sound of a horn, secretly rolling her eyes as she saw Topper showed up to pick the two up.

She would lie to say she was not excited though, she hadn’t built the courage to go down to the beach alone. So she was thankful Sarah was going to be there.

When they arrived, the glow of a bonfire flickered against the sky, laughter and the hum of conversation filling the air. Socializing wasn’t exactly her strong suit, so Eve sat back, finding an empty log near the edge of the group. From her spot, she watched Sarah and Topper mess around, their relationship being a small comfort from the large group of people in front of her.

As her gaze finally left the two, it landed on a group not too far from her. And of course, there was a familiar face—the boy from the boat. John B?

Eve frowned as she watched the night unfold. Sarah and Topper made their way over to the group, and a blonde boy said something that she couldn’t quite hear. The tension was immediate, the lighthearted mood shifting in an instant.

Eve stood, crossing her arms as she slowly moved closer, trying to make any sense of the situation. Her breath caught when she saw Topper shove John B, the confrontation escalating before anyone could stop it.

“Dirty Pogues!”

Topper yelled, his voice dripping with venom.

Eve’s eyes darted between them, her stomach dropping as John B fought back, shoving Topper back. Within seconds, fists were flying, the fight spiraling out of control as Sarah screamed for them to stop.

Her heart raced as she stood still unable to move, her hands gripping her hair in frustration? Fear?. Topper tackled John B, slamming him into the shallow water with a force that made Eve flinch as she watched. Before she could process what was happening, Topper had John B pinned, his hands shoving his head under the water repeatedly

“Sarah! Get your fucking boyfriend!”

Eve shouted, her voice cracking as panic clawed at her chest, tears springing quickly to her eyes.

She bolted forward, desperate to stop Topper from making it even worse, but strong hands grabbed her upper arms, yanking her back just as quickly as she ran forward. She twisted against the grip, her eyes locked on the scene in front of her.

“He’s drowning him!”

She screamed, her voice drowned out by the chaos, watching John B’s friends panic and Sarah crying.

Everyone gasped and fell silent as the Blonde one ran up to the two, holding a gun to Toppers head. She turned her head to see it was Rafe holding her back, her hands flying to her ears as bullets were fired into the air, as the group argued Rafe dragged her from the beach.

As Rafe pulled Eve away from the chaos, she twisted in his grip, panic flashing across her face.

"Let me go!" she yelled, trying to break free, but his hold was firm.

"Stop squirming," Rafe snapped, his tone sharp but not yelling. "You're not getting involved in pogue mess, trust me Im doing you a favor.”

She stumbled slightly as he tugged her farther from the fire and the sound of raised voices. Her heart pounded in her chest, and she barely felt the crunch of sand beneath her feet as Rafe basically dragged her up a small path leading away from the beach.

Eve wrenched her arm free the moment his grip loosened. "What the hell is wrong with you? He was drowning him, Rafe! You’re just gonna let that happen? That’s YOUR friend!”

"Don’t act like you understand how things work here," Rafe shot back, his voice loud, bouncing off the trees surrounding them. "You don’t get it, Eve. You’re not from here. You don’t know what you just walked into."

"Then tell me, Rafe!" she snapped, frustration spilling over. "Explain it to me, because all I see is a bunch of idiots acting like some stupid town rivalry is more important than their lives!”

He let out a sharp breath, running a hand over his face as if trying to keep himself in check. "Look, I didn’t want you caught up in this. That’s why I pulled you out, okay? You should be thanking me like I said."

"Thanking you?" she echoed in disbelief, shaking her head. "You and your friends are fucking insane.”

Rafe stepped closer, closing the distance between them.

"And you’re way in over your head if you think you can just stand there and play referee. Stick to Sarah, Eve. Stay out of this."

She stared up at him, her defiance faltering for a moment under the weight of his gaze. There was something in his tone an unspoken warning, maybe even concern? That made her hesitate.

“Maybe you should get your priorities straight and check on your sister.”

Eve spat as she roughly nudged past him, her heart pounding out of her chest as she walked up the trail and onto the main road. She didn’t care if she didn’t have a ride home, her eyes fixated on the red and blue lights flashing from the opposite direction. This wasn’t her situation, this wasn’t her life, or her stupid rivalry. All she wanted was to be away from the Cameron’s.

[titi-1188]

Always in your corner

“You know that Chan would truly always be in your corner and you hope he knows you’ll always be in his. Neither of you asked to be born to parents who had no care in the world but at least the two of you had each other.”

—

WARNINGS: Parents who don’t care(?)

PAIRING: Older Brother Chan x Younger Sibling Reader

WORD COUNT: 2.1K+

EXTRA INFO: Angst(?)/comfort, Christmas, Cringy Frozen reference, Life Advice from Older Brother, ‘Baby’ used as a term on endearment in a ‘omg you’re literally a baby’ way. SAFE FOR WORK ONLY!!!

A/N: Happy Christmas to those who celebrate and in general Happy Holidays to all!! As always, sorry for any mistakes, my english writing skills are NOT the best, I try to look over it and make sure everything makes sense to an outsider perspective of someone who ISN’T in my head but yk how it can be🩷 hehe i hope u like it!!! (can u tell what kind of issues I may have…)

Every Christmas since Chan started college whenever he’d come back, you’d be there, ready to greet him with a hug and some sort of small ‘welcome home’ gift. Christmas was probably the only time in the year year you got to see each other with how busy you both were; you being in high school and Chan attending college, working his ass off to get his degree. You and your brother couldn’t even see each other during the summer holidays-your parents sent you off on exchanges to other countries, so far, you’ve been to Spain, France and Italy (twice), and your other breaks from school just never lined up. Safe to say Christmas was like a blessing. An opportunity for two siblings to reunite.

So, this year when Chan got out of your dad’s car after a very awkward three hour long ride from the airport and walked into the house and wasn’t met with you he was surprised, disappointed even.

“Where is she?”, he asked as your mother came out of the living room. She rolled her eyes as if the mere question was a bother and replied simply

“Probably moping around in her bedroom again”. Chan frowned. You? Moping around? That didn’t sound like you. “What do you mean?”, he questioned.

“Your sister is just going through an emotional phase—but honestly she needs to get over it, at her age she should be able to just get up and move through it.”, your father spoke up and Chan watched in mild disgust as your mother nodded along.

Your parents made it abundantly clear before that they never wanted kids and yet somehow ended up with the two of you because of societal pressure but at least years ago they would at least pretend to be concerned parents. Now that Chan was a young adult and moved out and you were a teenager they probably didn’t see the need to.

“I’m going to go up then”, he announces. Your parents shrug, mumbling a quick ‘do whatever’ before retreating back into the living room.

Meanwhile, Chan hauled his suitcase and bag up the stairs, dropped them off into his room (that definitely needs to be dusted down) and went to your room at the end of the hall, on the right. He smiled seeing the pink, bedazzled wooden sign on the door to your room with your name on it—he remembers watching you make it all those years ago and likes to see you haven’t taken it down yet.

In Chan’s head, you’re not just a regular set of siblings, although he only is almost seven years older than you, he always felt an almost paternal instinct with you.

He had a huge part in raising you and as much as he hates to admit it for purposes of being too sappy and cringe—he hates that you are growing up so quick. He sometimes wishes you were a kid again and often finds himself reminiscing all the tea-parties he was forced to attend, all the times he’s sat over you helping you with simple maths sums while he had an essay to do, all the extravagant games you two used to make up as something to do while your parents were working.

God he misses it. And he would pay so much money to get to relive it, because even without the regular caring parents who are involved in their child's life-watching you grow up all over again would be worth so much more.

Chan snaps out of his thoughts and regains his composure before knocking on the door gently.

“Y/N, it’s me—can I come in?”. He’s about to open the door and enter when it opens in his face, and there you are, wearing a comfy set of clothes.

Chan takes your appearance in and notices immediately that you look…not like you. The light that normally shines in your eyes is dimmed, there are bags under your eyes and your normally well kept hair is disheveled.

“Y/N…”, he starts but you cut him off with a hug.

“Channie”, you murmur in a soft voice. “I’m sorry I wasn’t ready this year.”

Oh the way you sound so defeated breaks his heart. “Y/N baby—it’s okay, don’t worry about it.”

“I swear I knew when dad was picking you up and I had everything planned and stuff and then I got distracted and everything I planned just went out the window-”

“Y/N. It’s fine.”, Chan reassured, pulling back from the hug but keeping a firm hold on your shoulders. “Let’s talk?”

You nod at him and let him into your room, closing the door behind him. He flops down onto your bed and pats the spot beside him. “Come on over”.

You don’t hesitate and take your spot next to your brother. Words can’t describe how grateful you are that you’re not the only child in this fucked up family and that Chan is here. Every christmas is a blessing in your eyes because he’s here, a family member who cares.

His arm wraps around your shoulder and he pulls you in closer to him, pushing your head down to rest on his chest. “There, just like when you were a baby”.

“You mean a kid?”

“Fine, just like when you were a kid”, he states again, although in his head you will always be a ‘baby’.

“Oh please, when I was a kid you were just a teenager”, you scoff but don’t make the effort to move.

“Yeah but you still clung to me like a koala, so my point still stands.”

“Okay fine..”

“You’re still clingy”, he teases, when you don’t give your usual sarcastic response he clears his throat and starts speaking in a softer, more serious tone. “Mom said you’re ’moping around’..wanna tell me about that?”

“Things have just been…utter shit”, you respond simply.

“Utter shit?”, he questions, prompting you to further explain as he starts to run his fingers through your, messy, hair.

“I just…I feel like I’m stuck in time. Everyone else around me is moving on and I’m stuck in this spot. All my friends are starting to go to all sorts of house parties and get drunk off their heads, in school they keep shoving down future career paths down our throats and in general there’s just more and more work to be done ever single day...even mom and dad are talking about having me move out soon since technically it’s legal for me to move out after I turn sixteen—but I’m just, I don’t want to do any of that. I want to just be a kid for a little longer. In my head I’m still like eleven or like twelve—I’m not ready for all of this, I don’t want to be ready for all of this!”, you start rambling, your words flowing out quickly, as if you’ve been waiting to say all of this to someone.

“I see”, Chan responds. “I think…and hear me out, I think you’re just craving a normal childhood-one where you weren’t basically left to fend for yourself.”

You nod and he feels it’s safe to continue.

“You don’t want to grow up because you already feel like you have been at a higher maturity level since you were learning your ABC’s..”.

“How do you know exactly how to put this into simple words?”

“Because I know exactly how you feel. You know, I suppose when you were born I not only had to fend for myself, but also for you—and I do not hold it against you Y/N, you are the best thing that could’ve happened to me. I think if I was an only child in this family I would’ve gone insane.” You both giggle at his words but you both know he’s right. You know especially now in his absence that living in this house by yourself is not a nurturing and caring environment.

Chan continues speaking, “So you could say that from a young age I was acting like I was in my 30’s, taking care of myself, you, teaching you life lessons while learning them myself..and when it came to actually being a grown up..I didn’t want to do it because I felt like I already have been doing it. I wanted to just be able to I don’t know…play around with fucking legos or just go to the beach and build as many sandcastles as I desire, I wanted to reverse time and somehow get our parents to care for us and give the both of us the childhood we deserve. I still want that. I still wish that there was a switch I could flip and suddenly they’ll be asking more than the ‘required’ mundane questions…but…”, he trails off with a sigh.

“…That can’t happen”, you say. “Mhm, it can’t. So, trust me when I say that I understand how you feel.”

“How did you get over it?”, you ask.

“Well..it does turn out that adult life is a bit more complicated so I had to figure that out..but to heal my inner child..I did exactly what I wanted to, I realised that because I was an adult, no one could actually stop me from building sandcastles at the beach, or spending my first entire real pay check on all the lego sets I wanted and building them all”.

“Did it help?”

“Honestly, yeah. I gave myself what our parents couldn’t..or well wouldn’t and I felt much better about myself.” He pokes your arm, laughing a bit “Just don’t spend your first entire pay check on lego. I’ll teach you how to be smarter with money.”

“I feel bad you have to teach me these things.”

“Don’t. I want to.”, Chan replies. “The only reason I didn’t completely cut contact with mom and dad after I moved out was so I could see you like this, so I could continue to parent you because..you have so much potential Y/N..and our parents don’t provide you with an environment to encourage that kind of growth, they just want you to grow up and move out so they can be at peace, but I want you to thrive. I want you to be prepared and ready for whatever life throws at you. I want to encourage you in everything. I just want to help you. Make sure you have it better than anyone else..”. Chan’s words make you feel a pang in your chest, you close your eyes and slow your breathing, feeling his heartbeat as his fingers comb through your hair.

“Obviously, since you seem to be so nervous, I’ll tune my coaching down to a slower place, we can take this one small step at a time”.

“Thank you Channie. Really.”, you reply. “Mom and dad are no help at all…like no help. They just want me out of here.”

“I know…but it’s okay, you’ll figure yourself out, you’ll figure out what you want to do with your life, in your own time and I’ll be here in your corner supporting you every step of the way and teaching you things and well…everything I already said”, Chan reassures, patting your arm.

“Now…what if…we go and build a snowman or something?”, he suggests.

“A snowman?”, you laugh and sit up, meeting his eyes.

“What? It’ll be fun! I promise!”, Chan exclaims, “Come on don’t be a loser! Just come build a snowman with me!!”

“What you need me to sing it for you??”, he clears his throat. “Do you want to build a snowman? Come on let’s go and play-“

It’s only when you start laughing he does too. God when Frozen came out you both went through a terrible phase where you were obsessed with the movie..and when the second one came out god it all came back again.

“Okay Anna—let’s go build a snowman”.

That’s how your day ends. The two of you building multiple snowmen in the green in your estate (while your parents sat inside, oblivious to what their kids are doing). And honestly, you wouldn’t have traded it for the world.

You know that Chan would truly always be in your corner and you hope he knows you’ll always be in his. Neither of you asked to be born to parents who had no care in the world but at least the two of you had each other.

a/n: hope you liked this! i had to rush the ending a bit because I wanted it to be done by at least Christmas day so apologies!!!

p.s: if you have any reqs, feel free to ask!! just keep it sfw!!!

[aita-blorbos]

AITA for trying to eat a golden cow me and my crew found on an island after I attacked my captain for sacrificing 6 of our men?

Okay, so—I'm an adult man. I've been away at sea for a long while, twenty years in fact. The reason I left so many years ago was because I was sent off to fight the Trojans in a war. It was tense, and anxiety inducing as shit—but somehow we won because our captain managed to get us through it all. My captain (who I'll just call O for this story) is someone I've known for a long time. He's the brother of my wife, and we've been close for a very long time now. But, like.. okay, hold on, let me just keep explaining.

So, after we win the war—and after he apparently drops a baby off a tower because the mighty sky God Zeus told him to, we head out at sea. But I find out we have no food supplies. So I go to tell him we ran out. His response—'Oh, no worries! Let's just watch where the birds fly and see where they go so we can find somewhere to hunt food'. I think—'Okay, okay, kinda reasonable'. We find an island, and one of our scouts (who I'll call P) says he sees an island in the distance. But we see this weird glowing shit that we think is fire? So I decide to suggest we raid the place just to make sure there's no time to waste. But O refuses, and decides to straight up head into the island with P alone so they can find food themselves and so no one ends up dead. I'm thinking we don't actually know what's gonna happen, but.. hey! Hey, he's the captain here, right? Better to trust him. So he goes in. He comes back. Apparently these weird ass fucking alien things told them there was a cave to find food, so we search for it. We find it. We head inside. There's a bunch of fucking sheep everywhere, but hey! Free food, right? So we kill one. Then this MOTHERFUCKING CYCLOPS comes out. Not even kidding! Not even kidding—it comes out, and is like 'You killed my sheep.. it was my favorite.. blah blah blah'—and proceeds to LITERALLY ALMOST KILL MY CAPTAIN!! IM THINKING—HEY! MY CAPTAIN WILL GET US OUT OF THIS! AND HE TRIES! HE OFFERS THIS THING WINE THAT IT TAKES FOR SOME REASON, TELLS IT HIS NAME IS 'NOBODY', AND IM THINKING—MAYBE WE'LL GET OUT OF THIS! HA! NO! NO, IT PROCEEDS TO MURDER SEVERAL OF OUR MEN WITH OUR CLUB. SO WE'RE FREAKING THE FUCK OUT! BUT WE ATTACK ANYWAY. LONG STORY SHORT, P FUCKING GETS CRUSHED AND DIES. WE ESCAPE. BUT HEY, WE NEED FOOD EVEN THOUGH ALL OUR FRIENDS ARE DEAD, SO WE GO BACK IN AND BLIND THE THING! IT STARTS LIKE CRYING FOR SOME REASON?? AND THEN WE HEAR THESE OTHER DISTORTED VOICES WHO TURN OUT TO BE OTHER CYCLOPSES! WHO ARE THE LITERAL SIBLINGS OF THE CYCLOPS WE FOUGHT. I'M PANICKING AND THINKING WE SHOULD RUN, BUT NOOOOO.. turns out the Nobody thing ended up working though because the other Cyclops bitches left. So we go to get the sheep and leave. But then the captain turns right back around for some reason, and starts LITERALLY YELLING AT THE THING!! HE EVEN SAYS HIS NAME, THE NAME OF HIS KINGDOM, AND BASICALLY ENDANGERS EVERYONE JUST CUZ HE WAS BEING LIKE 'HEY BITCH LOL GET FUCKED YOU GOT SPARED BY A KING'. BUT I DONT SAY ANYTHING CUZ I GOTTA BE LOYAL, RIGHT??

I.. I don't even think I can say everything he did here to be honest. This man did so much shit! He willingly goes up to this weird ass island in the sky and gets help from a wind god who keeps whispering to all of us to open the bag—and I try to resist, but I can't cuz of the weird ass god magic shit, so I open the bag! We get blown all the way back to the 'Land of the Giants'. TURNS OUT THE MOTHERFUCKING GOD OF THE SEA HIMSELF IS THE CYCLOPSES DAD! HE KILLS HUNDREDS OF OUR MEN. BUT WR STILL HAVE THE WIND BAG SO O OPENS IT AND WE LAND AT THIS ISLAND THAT BELONGS TO A SORCERESS WHO TURNED OUR MEN INTO PIGS!! O GOES TO SAVE THEM EVEN THOUGH I'M LIKE 'Dude you're gonna fucking die you don't even know what she can do' AND SOMEHOW SUCCEEDS!! WE GO TO THE UNDERWORLD. I SEE P AND O'S MOM IN THERE. IM TRAUMATIZED. AND AFTER WE SEE THIS WEIRD ASS DRUG DEALER LOOKING PROPHET GUY, O SUDDENLY HAS A ANIME VILLAIN ARC MOMENT AND SHOUTS ABOUT HOW HES GONNA BE A MONSTER NOW. WE SAIL OUT. WE FIND SIRENS, SO WE KILL 'EM! BUT HE ORDERS WE 'CUT OFF THEIR TAILS AND LET THEM DROWN'!! CUZ THATS TOTALLY A SANE THING TO DO!! AND THEN WE SAIL THROUGH THE LAIR OF SCYLLA. I ADMIT I OPENED THE BAG CUZ I FELT KINDA BAD TO BE HONEST. O IS LIKE 'Ay man it's cool just take this torch real quick', SO I DO! SIX OF OUR MEN, ALL OF WHICH WERE HOLDING TORCHES (I THREW ONE DOWN WHEN I REALIZED WHAT WAS HAPPENING), PROCEED TO LITERALLY DIE. SO WHEN WE LEAVE AND I REALIZE HE JUST KILLED OUR MEN, I'M LIKE 'HEY MAN WHAT THE HELL???'. HES LIKE 'NAH BITCH I CANT SAY ANYTHING', SO I'M LIKE 'DUDE FUCK YOU' AND I START FIGHTING HIM! ONE OF OUR CREW MEMBERS STABS HIM AS HE LITERALLY THROWS ME TO THE GROUND. AND AFTER HES OUT, I HAVE TO CONVINCE EVERYONE NOT TO KILL HIM. WE FIND AN ISLAND WITH COWS. WE GET THERE AND TIE HIM UP. THEN WHEN O WAKES UP AS IM ABOUT TO KILL A COW, HE HAS THE AUDACITY TO BEG ME NOT TO KILL IT EVEN THOUGH WE HAVENT HAD FOOD IN SEVERAL WEEKS! I'M DESPERATE AT THIS POINT, RIGHT? SO I DONT LISTEN AND STAB IT. HE STARTS YELLING AT ME AFTER, SAYING WE'RE ALL DOOMED. WE RUN BACK TO THE SHIFT AS THE SKY GOES CRAZY WITH THUNDER. ZEUS SHOWS UP! I GET BLASTED CUZ O CHOOSES US TO DIE INSTEAD OF HIMSELF. AND NOW IM STUCK IN THE UNDERWORLD WRITING THIS..

God.. I feel like I'm talking to a therapist. Point is—am I the asshole?

[atoriv-art]

Heeyyy so sorry if this has been asked before buuuttttt.. What are ur thoughts on the sand siblings?

this made me realize i didnt include their rs in the chart i posted REST ASSURED I LOVE THEM. anyway hehehe :3

a lot of my takes on them are headcanon-based (like even more than the hyugas id say) But i assume thats what people r here for anyway. Sooooo

i really like the suna siblings bc their relationship pre-chunin exams is very, like… dysfunctional, but at the same time stable? temari and kankuro are obviously afraid of their brother, and gaara is deeply unhappy around them, but they've all clearly found a "safe" position to exist in yk?

my read on those positions is that temari actually feels more conflicted about gaara than you would think — she's the oldest and therefore the one most aware of how 'wrong' their family is — but she puts her and kankuro's safety first, therefore she resorts to appeasing gaara and generally staying out of his way. kankuro is more of a show-off and while he is afraid of gaara, it's in a more grounded way, if that makes sense? he taunts him like one might taunt an angry dog, he's afraid of him because of what he can do, vs temari who dreads being around him because she's aware of what gaara carries on his shoulders and Represents

i actually 👉👈 have a suna family-centered fic i've been slowly working on 👉👈 that ive been too shy to mention on main LMAO but since we are on topic here u go [link]. it's yashamaru-focused (my WIFE) but it brushes upon the entire family :3 it'll be slow to update since i've been busy with things but if u don't mind that. i mention it here since i use the extrapolations im mentioning here to write it….

aaaanyway. the kids' relationship with rasa isn't very defined (esp for kankuro and temari) but i interpret their situation as the classic… yk, father lost his soul after the mother died sort of thing. it's a bit cliche but it makes sense LOL while the only kid we know for sure rasa was cruel towards is gaara i don't find it a stretch to expand it towards the other two, even if it wasn't as extreme.

so, with that in mind: my personal interpretation is that temari — in addition to getting the usual heir responsibilities — got put into a caretaker role for kankuro, pushing her towards cynicism and self-preservation above all else (she's also the one most likely to remember their mom, and an early loss like that can push one into hyper-independence), while kankuro was left with a bit less pressure but as a tradeoff grew hungry for acknowledgement, eventually feeding into him becoming a bit of a bully as he gets older. i think he was the one with the most... "normal" relationship with their father, but i wouldn't necessarily say that's a good thing lol

gaara is in a unique position because he was not fully raised by rasa, and his relationship with him is a lot more shallow and extreme as a result. instead gaara ended up being built into who he is almost exclusively through yashamaru's kindness and subsequent betrayal — and this is only accentuated imo by the fact that gaara does not (iirc?) at any point willingly bring up yashamaru. he badmouths his father and blames him for who he is, but the formative moments of gaara's childhood that we see are of him with his uncle. isn't that interesting? to me it reads like that's still a wound so deep he can't even bear to acknowledge it; rasa treats him like a monster so gaara is free to spit poison back at him in return, but gaara did wholeheartedly believe his uncle loved him at a point, and the idea that he did not was so world-shattering that he can't even bring himself to acknowledge his existence

all that being said, gaara as we meet him in the exams treats his siblings like strangers and i can't fully blame him for that; while the compounded traumas of 1. losing their mother and 2. the shift in rasa's disposition, cannot be understated, i think what truly "broke" the siblings' dynamic is the way gaara was likely forced into kankuro and temari's lives after yashamaru died. while they'd certainly met before, there's a world of difference between knowing you have a distant, troubled younger brother vs having that brother violently placed into your home in his most vulnerable state after another familial loss.

(yashamaru's rs with his other niblings is never really touched upon but i do think about it often. he was so close to their mom i doubt they had no relationship at all! but that's. you know. what the fic i mentioned is for.)

it inherently puts the kids into an adversarial position, especially with how rasa doesn't try to argue for gaara's humanity. so gaara, freshly traumatized and distrusting, is met with siblings who are terrified of him and a father who he knows wants him dead. to make things worse, yashamaru (my king.) made sure to crush whatever goodwill gaara still had towards the world before he died, so there's no part of him willing to give anyone the benefit of the doubt. no one has any interest in fixing this situation so this is the dynamic they settle into.

yet! they are still family and there are certainly glimpses of that. one of my favorite moments is temari looking out for gaara for, in our pov, the first time

it's really simple but it always gets an emotion out of me, it's why i think their relationship bothered her the most… one of my biggest gripes with the suna siblings is honestly that we just don't get a lot of them after a point! i would have loved to see them getting closer after gaara takes the first step in closing the distance.

kazekage retrieval arc is easily one of my favorite arcs in naruto it's soooo sweet to see kankuro and temari fighting so so hard for their baby :( i really like the quiet moments where you can tell there's still a lot of guilt over how things were, i wish we got to sit with it a little more because part of the reason i like their bond so much is because of those moments of doubt, you know? i think it's far more powerful for gaara to wonder if he's been fully forgiven, for temari to grapple with the guilt of not having been a good sister to him, than for them to easily slip into a healthy and stable dynamic as a trio.

how do they feel about their father? their mother? how do they feel about their uncle? they are three different people with similar but not identical experiences with all of them, and it makes you wonder how they might navigate unpacking all of that while not jeopardizing their fledgling bond. for example i'm personally a huge fan of gaara coming to view his uncle in an imperfect but ultimately empathetic light, while his siblings see little reason to extend him so much grace.

their personalities in shippuden make a lot of sense to me taking their upbringings into account too; kankuro and temari are predominantly rasa's children, and therefore have rougher edges and are way more averse to earnest displays of affection. gaara meanwhile had yashamaru's influence in his formative years; he knows how to articulate his emotions and acknowledges the importance of sincerity and kindness. i dunno if this was intentional but i think it's a neat detail!

soo much of the suna family follows this pattern of love breeding resentment (rasa's love towards karura breeding resentment against gaara, yashamaru's love towards karura breeding resentment against gaara and rasa, gaara's love towards his uncle being twisted into hatred against the world, the siblings' love for each other being corrupted then saved) it's sooo. chef's kiss. again my only complaint is that we don't see more of them. literally who cares about konoha i want to be in suna forever

[ell0ra-br3kk3r-writes]

Who's Afraid of Little Old Me?

part five

pairing: james potter x black sister!reader, regulus black x sister!reader

genre: angst with like maybe a little fluff?

el's thoughts: this is part five! hope yall enjoy!

main masterlist | regulus masterlist | james masterlist

Regulus and Y/N Black showed up at the Potter’s manor once again. Almost a year had gone by since the first time and the twins returned completely different people. They were no longer the scared children in need of help and shelter. 

Y/N knocked on the door swiftly and took a step back as she straightened her trench coat lapels. Regulus stood behind her, just over her shoulder keeping an eye on the surroundings behind them. 

The door opened cautiously and the twins were met with a pair of the most striking green eyes.

“Black,” Lily Evans said.

“Evans,” Y/N nodded curtly in response. “We were wondering if we could speak to Sirius?”

The redhead had eyed the skeptically. “What makes you think he’s here?”

Y/N rolled her eyes, “Please Evans, I’m not an idiot.”

“And neither are we.” 

Y/N saw immediately how her eyes cast downward to her cloaked forearm. Y/N’s stomach turned as she looked back to Regulus who also seemed uneasy. Y/N pulled at her sleeve and cleared her throat. “Please… let me see my brother.” Y/N inhaled deeply, “I beg of you, Lily.”

Lily sighed out of pure pity. “Alright, go around back. I’ll send him that way.”

Regulus eyed the redhead in distrust but led Y/N to follow her directions either way. They weren’t in a position to argue.

They walked to the back of the manor and saw Sirius waiting on the back porch anxiously running his hands through his hair. When he saw his younger siblings he lit up like a light bulb and rushed to hug them tightly.

“Oh thank Godric! I thought Lily was pullin’ my leg.” He made no move to let them go. “Are you two alright? I got so scared when you didn’t return, and then I got no letters from the both of you-”

“We’re fine, Siri,” Y/N mumbled into his shoulder as she held him back just as tightly. Without her realizing it, the ache of missing her eldest brother only grew as time passed. She missed the way he held her. The way he comforted her as if she were a child. “We’re alright. Promise.”

Regulus was the first to break up the hug and he cleared his throat while blinking quickly to rid himself of the tears that prickled in the back of his eyes. “Sirius, we came here to tell you something.”

“You’re Death Eaters? I’ve heard that already.”

“Yes, we’re Death Eaters, but that wasn’t what we came all this way to tell you. We’re not idiots.”

Y/N forced herself not to roll her eyes. “We came to get help and offer our services.”

“Offer your services?” Sirius trailed off, confusion swimming in his eyes. 

“We know the Dark Lord’s plans, having heard everything first hand. We can be valuable to your cause don’t’cha think?” Y/N said with a mock confidence and cockiness that her eyes didn’t carry.

“No.” Sirius shook his head, looking between his two little siblings. “Abouslute not. Do you know what you would be signing up for? That’s basically asking to die.”

“Sirius, please.”

“No, I won’t allow it. You can’t just put your lives on the line for the sake of others.”

“Is that not what you’re doing? What James, Remus, and Peter are doing?”

“That’s different…”

“How?” Y/N nearly snapped. “Tell me how is it any different? Sirius our lives are already on the line every day we wake up. We didn’t sign up for this. We didn’t want this life, so let us gain what little control we can. I want the risk to be worth something, Sirius.”

The older Black shook his head, “It’s too dangerous… I can’t.”

“Well, then it’s a good thing you’re not really in charge of us then. Isn’t it?” Regulus snipped.

“We are doing this, Sirius. With or without your support,” Y/N looked up at him with tears lining her eyes. “But we’d much rather have you stand up for us.”

Sirius stared at his siblings in silent mourning of their youth before he nodded slowly. “Okay, I support you both.”

~

James walked into the Potter’s kitchen. His parents left the house to him and he opened it up to the order, not wanting to stay in the house alone or let it sit empty and useless. His parents wouldn’t want that. 

Normally only he and Sirius actually lived there but since a few weeks ago Y/N and Regulus moved back in. Some of the other Order members would spend a night or two but never stayed longer. So it took a few days for James to get used to other people in the house again. 

Y/N sat at the kitchen counter nursing a cup of tea, that by the looks of it had gone cold a while ago. She sat in her pjamas with one knee brought up to her chest and the other tucked under her with her chin on her knee. She looked tangled up but made it look comfy, almost enough to convince James that if he put himself in the same position he would be just as comfortable. 

“You look lost.” His voice startled her, causing her to jolt a little. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare ya.”

“Oh… no, no you’re all good. Sorry.” Y/N repositioned herself and let her painted nail trace the rim of her mug, her eyes became unfocused again as she stared into the dark liquid. 

“No need to apologize, love.” James walked to the stove where the kettle sat and turned it on again. The pet name that slipped from his lips went unnoticed by him but caught Y/N’s attention, though she wouldn’t mention it.

“What’re you doing up?” Y/N asked quietly, allowing him to take her cup and dump the cold tea.

“Couldn’t sleep. Why are you up?”

“Same reason apparently.” 

James hummed, putting a new tea bag in her mug while pulling out a mug for himself and doing the same. Y/N had finally realized that he was making her a new cup of tea and straightened up. “You don’t have to do that.”

“It’s no problem, your cup had already gone cold. Unless you didn’t want another one…” James trailed off.

“No, I do,” Y/N spoke quietly, wringing her fingers together mindlessly. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

James placed the freshly made cup of tea in front of Y/N, the steam curling up in soft, lazy tendrils. He gave her a small smile before settling into the chair opposite her, his own tea cradled in his hands. The kitchen was quiet, the kind of quiet that felt heavy but not quite unwelcome. James found it oddly comforting.

“So,” he began, his voice cutting through the silence but not in a harsh way, “what’s on your mind? What’s keeping you up?”

Y/N blinked, surprised by the direct question, but then again she shouldn’t have been surprised. “Oh… just stuff,” she said vaguely, her fingers fidgeting with the mug.

James tilted his head, studying her carefully. “You’re not very descriptive, are you?”

A small smile tugged at the corner of her lips, but she kept her gaze down. “Just… everything, I guess. The war, Regulus, Sirius, m-my parents…” Her voice faltered, and she shrugged as though it wasn’t a big deal, though the weight of her words said otherwise. 

James nodded, his brow furrowing. “That’s a lot to carry all alone.”

Y/N shrugged again, still not meeting his eyes. “I’m used to it by now.”

“Doesn’t mean you have to do it alone.” His voice was soft but firm, and Y/N finally glanced up at him. There was something in his expression-–an openness, a warmth—that made her chest feel a little lighter, even if just for a fleeting moment.

“Yeah, well,” she said, trying to shrug off the vulnerability creeping in, “not much of a choice these days, is there?”

James didn’t press her, sensing she wasn’t ready to share more. Instead, he smiled, raising his mug. “Here’s to sleepless nights in the Potter kitchen. At least we’re not alone in our misery.”

That coaxed a small laugh from Y/N, a sound James found himself wanting to hear more often. “Cheers to that,” she said, clinking her mug against his softly.

~

Over the next few days, James found himself seeking Y/N out more often. Whether it was helping her brew potions for the Order, get ready to go to a Deatheatter meeting, or simply sitting with her in the living room while she read. He couldn’t seem to stay away. He liked the way her face softened when she was deep in thought, the way her laugh—when she let it out—filled the room like sunlight, a drastic contrast to her usual persona.

Y/N, on her part, was equally drawn to James. She hadn’t expected him to be so kind, so patient. She’s always known him as Sirius’ blood-traitor best friend, the one who was always laughing and causing trouble. But the day he found her crying in the hallway changed her perspective entirely. But this James added to her changed perspective. This James, the one who brought her tea without asking and listened without interrupting, was someone she found herself wanting to know better.

One evening, they were sitting on the porch steps, watching the sun dip below the horizon. The air was cool, and Y/N had wrapped herself in a blanket. James had brought out two mugs of hot cocoa, handing one to her without a word. 

“You’re really good at this, you know,” she said after a long silence.

James raised an eyebrow. “Good at what?”

“This,” she gestured between them and around them. “Making people feel… safe.”

He chuckled softly, rubbing the back of his neck. “I think that’s just you, Y/N. You make it easy.”

Her cheeks flushed, and she looked away, hiding her smile behind the rim of her mug. “Don’t be ridiculous,” she muttered, though there was no usual bite to her words. “You’ve taken care of Sirius for years now and have made him feel safe. Even Regulus feels safe now.” She trailed off, “Well, as safe as we could be.”

James hummed and stayed silent.

As safe as they could be.

~

It was Sirius who noticed first.

He walked into the kitchen one afternoon to find James and Y/N sitting close together at the counter, their heads bent over a piece of parchment. James was explaining something, his hand occasionally brushing against hers as he pointed to the page. Y/N didn’t pull away, her face lit up with one of the rare smiles Sirius hadn’t seen in such a long time.

“Oh, this is interesting,” Sirius drawled, crossing his arms and leaning against the doorframe.

James and Y/N both looked up, their expressions a mix of guilt and annoyance. “What do you want, Sirius?” Y/N asked, rolling her eyes.

“Nothing,” he said, grinning. “Just enjoying the view. You two look cozy.”

“Bugger off,” James muttered, though his ears turned red.

Sirius’s grin widened. “Alright, alright. Don’t let me interrupt your... working.”

As Sirius left, Y/N groaned, burying her face in her hands. “He’s never going to let this go.”

James laughed, reaching out to gently nudge her arm. “Let him have his fun. It’s not so bad, is it?”

Y/N peeked at him through her fingers, her lips twitching into a reluctant smile. “I suppose not.”

[jedi-enthusiasm-blog]

The Many Names of Peace (pt.1/?): Mercy

Part I | Part II

CONTENT WARNINGS: THE RUUSAN REFORMATION AND HOW IT PUT THE JEDI IN A TERRIBLE PLACE, MANDALORIAN-JEDI HISTORY AFTER THE RUUSAN REFORMATION WHICH INCLUDES PADAWAN HUNTING. THIS INCLUDES:

Cultural genocide (discussed in detail). The Ruusan Reformation is made much worse here, and the Dral'han/Excision is also commented upon.

Child murder (discussed). Padawan hunting, and how Mandalorians killed children and took braids and beads as trophies.

Corpse desecration (discussed in detail). Lightsabers and Padawan braids and beads are taken from their owners. I realize this doesn't seem important for many of us, but it's very important for the Jedi.

Systematic identity erasure of a mixed race character (discussed). Tarre Vizla's Jedi status is barely known by Mandalorians because House Vizla treated it like a dirty secret.

Please mind your headspaces.

"If you hate genocide so much, where were your people at the Dral'han?" Terith asks with a scoff.

The Jetii stops muttering and goes still. Slowly, she turns, with a movement too fluid for a human. She's shorter than them, very slim and apparently frail, and her blond —almost white— hair is tied in a braided bun. Her eyes, which are a glowing emerald green, are burning.

"Where were we? You're asking me why we did nothing when your people were attacked?" The kage Jedi asks the Mandalorian with a soft tone of voice and a polite nod, looking almost like a respected jaieh accepting a padawan's question.

It is not.

Underneath their buy'ce, Terith's lips curl at her words, at her threat.

Zahara begins to move from one side of the room to another. It's too controlled to be called pacing, but the tension is visible in her movements.

"Not all Jedi are human. In fact, most aren't. There are species with very long lifespans and, considering Force-sensitives tend to live a few decades longer than others of their species, two hundred is far from an uncommon age among Jedi" The Jetii doesn't seem to be answering their furious question at first. "We were not there, Mandalorian, because every sitting member of the High Council during the genocide of your people remembered how Mandalore reacted when they came for us, first."

Drovan, her crechemate, her enishee, her brother of the soul, was a member of the EduCorps. He hadn't wanted to be a Knight, done the math, and decided to free up a space for somebody else. In particular, he was fascinated by the History of the Order. Zahara remembers quiet nights, when she was at the Temple resting after a taxing mission, when she Drovan used to sit down on comfortable cushions and her closest sibling rambled about what he was learning.

She's heard him ranting about the Ruusan Reformation, and the cruel limitations it places on her people even now. She's read it herself, once she began her Shadow training, learning every single restriction in search for loopholes that could be exploited to make the Order's job and life easier.

Her people's memories are long. Kages remember. The Jedi remember. Zahara remembers.

"They vividly remembered when the Republic we served brought down our Temples, when they took us from our homes, when they tried to destroy a whole branch of our Order" Zahara lists, voice cold and eyes blazing, "when they took our armor, our back-up and defenses, when they stole everything but our Lightsabers… and when your people laughed and called it easy hunting."

The Mandalorian pride in Terith's heart wants to protest, to deny the Jetii's words. But she speaks like a scholar in a subject she's clearly well versed in, like a grieving verd mourning the violence against her people they'd known nothing about.

History isn't always kind, Mandalorian history in particular rarely is, but it's always worth learning from. It's something Kyr'tsad and the extremists among the Nu'Mando'ade don't understand, and Terith refuses to make their same mistakes.

So, they swallow the growing lump in their throat, ignore the stone sinking in their stomach and try to listen.

Zahara's voice begins to break away from the calm, even tones of a teacher, and slowly fall into the ragged tones of soul-crushing grief. Her breath becomes shallow and rapid, and air gets stuck in her throat. Still, she continues.

"The Republic had been destroying us for two hundred years by the time of the orbital bombardment on Mandalore, and in that time, the number of Lightsabers and Padawan braids and beads seen on Mandalorian armor as trophies skyrocketed" The Jetii hisses, spitting the word trophies with the same venom he would use to say hut'tuunla or demagolka. "We were trapped, betrayed and dying… and your people murdered our young and desecrated our corpses, and had the nerve to carry the stolen lives of our kin as proof."

The air grows colder, a sharpness in it that's as familiar as her own reflection. The galaxy around her sings with promises of vengeance, of justice. Justice for her enishee, justice for Feemor and his charges, justice for Jaieh Ta'ra's murdered Padawan, for the all Jedi dead during the Mandalorian sack of the Anohrah, for the bastardization of Jaieh Tarre Vizla's story and the systematic erasure of his Jedi identity, for all the Jedi younglings dead at Mandalorian hands.

Not against the Mandalorian that did any of those things, but against a Mandalorian, anyhow.

"Your people sacked the Temple, stole the life and soul of a respected Jedi Master, got two of his Padawans murdered, erased every single hint of his Jedi upbringing, and perverted everything he stood for in life, all because he happened to be Mandalorian as well."

The song reaches a crescendo, the highest notes she's ever heard in a Force song, making her ears ring. The melody sounds off-key, and the final notes become loud and insufferable high-pitched screams. Zahara grits her teeth, and breathes in deeply. The xari in the air slowly dissapears.

She will not take revenge.

She's a Jedi, and revenge is not the Jedi way.

She will not Fall. She will not let her anger act upon her and betray everything she, Drovan, Feemor, Ta'ra and her Padawan, Tarre Vizla and his Padawans have ever stood for.

Zahara will not take revenge because it's not what Drovan would have wanted. It's not what any Jedi would want.

She will not take revenge because it's not as useful and satisfying as the thores of passion lead you to believe.

This Mandalorian is innocent. They haven't done anything wrong. They're angry about their people's genocide and rightfully so. They're ignorant, and ignorance can be fixed.

Words, the sharing of knowledge, bringing understanding when there was previously none. Those are her greatest weapons, and she can wield them freely and with as much efficiency as a Lightsaber.

Terith is frozen in place, mind racing with the desire to be anywhere else, away from this hurting, angry sorceress that sees them as an enemy. The manda in their chest screams, in offense or the pain of dishonor Terith isn't sure.

They wish their buy'ce was recording. That way they could investigate the Jetii's claims.

Everyone and their mother has heard the rumors about the Jetiise. Sorcerers from the Core that don't reproduce like other beings, but take children from their parents and train them to be as emotionless as droids, beings that beat all the love and concern for others out of themselves because they believe attachment is a weakness.

Terith believed them, once.

Now Terith doesn't know what to believe. The Jetii speaks with too much knowledge and pain to be lying, nobody can fake that well, and the air around them both is mournfully singing as the truth of her words sink into the depths of their runi.

Zahara breathes out slowly. Still hurt, but… determined not to Fall, not to take out her grief and anger on someone who's done nothing wrong.

"So" the kage Jedi flashes a polite but completely unfriendly smile, "why did we do nothing when they came for your world?"

Within their battered heart, stung with the pain of dishonor, with the stain on the manda itself, Terith knows the answer before the Jetii says a word.

"We did nothing because Jedi are merciful, Mandalorian."

(Notes under the cut)

Dai Bendu

Jaieh — Jedi Master (rank and role).

Padawan — apprentice, learner, student. Lit "the one who learns". Please picture a Jedi hearing a politician saying "Padawan learner", and containing the urge to eye twich.

Enishee — crechemate.

Anohrah — Jedi Temple, home. Before the Ruusan Reformation used to refer to the Temple the speaker was from.

Xari — darkness, the Dark Side of the Force.

Mando'a

Jetii(se) — Jedi (add 'se' at the end to make the plural).

Buy'ce — helmet.

Verd — warrior.

Kyr'tsad — Death Watch, lit "death society".

Nu'Mando'ade — New Mandalorians.

Hut'tuunla — coward. Very harsh insult.

Demagolka — someone who commits atrocties, a real-life monster, a war criminal - from the notorious Mandalorian scientist of the Old Republic, Demagol, known for his experiments on children, and a figure of hate and dread in the Mando psyche

Manda — collective soul of the Mandalorians.

Runi — spirit, soul of the individual.

Zahara is a kage Jedi Knight, officially a Sentinel and a Finder, which is used to explain why she can be in places she isn't supposed to and bust slave rings without prior Senate authorization. Unofficially, however, she's a Shadow. It's common practice for the Jedi to register Shadows as Finders in order to give them more freedom of action.

Terith is a Mandalorian bounty hunter, but they're very picky about their jobs and have interest in medicine, particularly "mind-healing". They were born in a New Mandalorian family but found greater calling to Jaster and the True Mandalorians and switched allegiance once they were of age. They are mildly Force-sensitive, not enough to become a Jedi and only gives them good instincts.

The Dral'han is the orbital bombardment of Mandalore done by the Galactic Republic in roughly 800BBY. The Republic used Jedi ships, but there were no Jedi involved. Mandalorians believed the Jedi were guilty at first, but the truth was uncovered only a decade later.

Dai Bendu is not my creation. It's a colang, although the story of the language is something I made up. Dai Bendu is the language spoken by the Order of Dai Bendu and, later on, the Jed'aii Order. It fell out of use after the Jedi joined the Republic in 25,000BBY, but came back in full swing during the Jedi-Sith Wars when it was very useful to speak a language the enemy couldn't understand.

I don't know if it's canon, but in this story Force-sensitives live longer than the average of their species. Those who aren't trained only live a little longer (a decade in humans), but for those who, like the Jedi, have training that lifespan increases (three to four decades in humans).

"Free up a space". Taken from the Jedi Apprentice series, where Jedi age out at thirteen and there are limited Masters, and where those who aren't chosen are sent to the Corps. Drovan knew he didn't want to be a Knight, so he requested to be sent to the Corps as soon as possible to give the chance of becoming a Knight to someone who actually wanted to be one. Unlike Jedi Apprentice, however, this is an imposition from the Ruusan Reformation, and the Jedi try to bend this rule as much as possible.

Kages' memories begin forming almost at birth. Zahara remembers with vivid detail most of her life. She's doing an alliteration: she remembers because she's a kage and because she is a Jedi.

This is the "Ruusan Reformation but make it worse" AU:

"Brought down our Temples". The Ruusan Reformation demanded the centralization of the Jedi Order. Therefore, all Jedi were forced to move to Couruscant, and their other Temples were either destroyed or repurposed.

"Took us from our homes." Although Terith doesn't know it, Zahara is being redundant. The word for Jedi Temple in Dai Bendu also means home. She's putting enphasis on how painful it was for the Jedi to lose their homes.

"Tried to destroy a whole branch of our Order." The Shadows were supposed to be dissolved after the Ruusan Reformation was signed. However, the Jedi managed to keep training Shadows in secret.

The Jedi used to have weapons, armor and many defenses besides their Lightsabers, but the Ruusan Reformation ordered their demilitarization and "demilitarization". Among the things they lost were the right to carry their birth cultures' sacred armor and weapons. A Mandalorian Jedi wouldn't be allowed to have armor, for example.

Mandalorians tend to take trophies from their enemies after a battle. This is done both for, well, bragging rights and to respect the memory of a worthy opponent (similar to their remembrances for their fallen comrades). However, the bragging rights part can overshadow the respect for a worthy opponent part, and many Mandalorians hunt down defenseless "enemies" to steal important objects from them. The Jedi in particular were a favored target for these… individuals, seeing as they had no armor, only carried one weapon and were usually alone or in pairs because that's how the Senate decided to send them in missions. The victims were usually Padawans, hence the name Padawan Hunts.

Tarre Vizla's story shows the greatest difference between how Jedi and Mandalorians (at least in that era) treat different cultures and double cultured children. The Jedi don't hide that Tarre Vizla was Mandalorian, everyone knows that he left the Order to rule Mandalore, and know what happened to his armor and what he wanted to happen to his body and Lightsaber. However, Mandalorians either don't know or refuse to recognize Tarre Vizla's Jedi status.

"Sacked the Temple". Tarre Vizla left his armor to his Clan and his Lightsaber to the Jedi. When he died, he wanted to be burned in the Temple (both cultures burn their death, so little to no issue here) and his ashes to be spread on Mandalore. House Vizla, however, did the equivalent of spitting on Tarre's funeral pyre and sacked the Temple to steal the Darksaber.

"Stole the life and soul of a respected Jedi Master". Tarre Vizla was a Jedi, and the Darksaber is his life. House Vizla, however, had no respect for their relative's other culture and did the worst thing they could do to him: killing and hurting his Jedi family, and stealing a sacred item they knew was sacred.

I headcanon that Tarre Vizla had three Padawans. He finished the incomplete training of the first because their Master died, did the whole training of the second and got promoted to Master as a result, and only started the training of the third before he went to his home planet to unite Mandalorians against the Sith Empire. Two of them were killed during House Vizla's sack of the Temple.

"Erased every hint of his Jedi upbringing." House Vizla replaced the Jedi Order symbol on Tarre's armor with the symbol of House Vizla, refused to acknowledge Tarre's desire to be remembered as a Jedi and forbade anyone from speaking about his Jedi status, and never say that the Darksaber is actually a regular Lightsaber they stole.

"Perverted everything he stood for." Lightsabers are a Jedi's life, hold their souls in the same way beskar'gam holds a Mandalorian's. Tarre. Ever since it was stolen, the Darksaber has been used as a symbol of authoritarian and tyrannical leadership, warmonging, imperialism and military violence. It's so fucked up that the crystal is beginning to break (the white cracks, originally the Darksaber was pure black) and, had those who held it been trained Force-sensitives, the crystal would have bled.

Terith doesn't know they're Force-sensitive, but they know their instincts are rarely wrong, and they can feel the honesty and grief coming from Zahara in waves. They don't doubt her precisely because they know she's not lying, she's seeing things as she sees them and, even if she's wrong, it's something Terith believes to be worth looking into.

[sissylittlefeather]

If I Can Dream: Chapter 7

A/N: A Christmas surprise! Two chapters in one day! Merry Christmas, friends! Masterlist.

Summary: It's 1975 and Jo Bellamy has been in love with Elvis for 20 years. She doesn't even care that they haven't met yet. All she needs is a chance and she's determined to get one.

But Elvis doesn't feel much like Elvis anymore. What happened to the man he used to be? He's pretty sure he's long gone.

Can a chance encounter with Jo change the ill-fated trajectory of his life?

Warnings: none, this is pretty damn fluffy.

Word count: ~3.2k

“That's a fuck yes, babe.” He giggles and tickles her sides excitedly and they laugh together on the big-enough couch, naked and unafraid of the future… for now.

******

That night passes with Elvis and Jo talking for most of it until they finally fall asleep in bed all wrapped around each other just before sunrise. He's convinced her to stay home from work, so they make love when they wake up and then lay in bed until almost 3pm. Finally, she drags him out of bed and they spend the rest of the day in the kitchen. She has the idea for them to make Christmas candy and a gingerbread house. What they really make is a mess, but they have a blast licking icing and chocolate off of each other. They settle into the TV room with It’s a Wonderful Life on the projector and the candy they made that Elvis hasn't eaten yet. All in all, it's a beautiful day together and when they settle in bed at the end of it, Elvis is ready to spend every day like that. He mentions something to that effect to Jo and she makes a nervous sound.

“What's that sound for, Tink?” She looks at him with an awkwardly pained smile.

“I have to go home tomorrow.”

“Home?” He's confused, thinking she's already at home.

“To see my parents, I mean. For Christmas Eve.”

“Tomorrow is Christmas Eve?” She rolls her eyes and giggles.

“Yes. It is. And my parents always have this big holiday party for the family.”

“Oh.” He gets a little sad thinking that he'll have to spend the next day without her.

“You could come with me.” She says cautiously. Elvis makes a thinking face.

“How many people?”

“Just my mom and stepdad and my step-siblings. You've already met my brother-in-law and niece. I also have a stepbrother who is married with 3 kids. My aunt and uncle will probably be there too. They don't have any kids, so they usually come to our holiday things. But that's all. Not a huge crowd.” She smiles and looks at him hopefully. He grumbles, knowing that he's going to have a hard time telling her no.

“Okay. I already went to a wedding and survived. I guess I can go to a Christmas party.” She squeals and snuggles into his chest.

“I love you so much.” He wraps his arms around her and kisses the top of her head.

“I love you too, Tink.”

******

Elvis stands in his closet in his robe, staring at the rows and rows of clothing. They're late and he knows it, but he has no idea what on earth he should wear to a family Christmas party. All of his clothing is either formal paparazzi-worthy outfits, jumpsuits, clothes that don't fit him, or tracksuits. None of those seem appropriate for where he's supposed to be going right now. He hears Jo's voice as she calls out to him.

“Elvis! Come on, babe, we're late!” She's taken to calling him ‘babe’ as often as possible and he really likes it. But today it just seems to add to his anxiety. He feels like he's going to let her down or embarrass her no matter what he chooses. She finally finds him in the closet near tears. “Babe, what's wrong?”

“Nothin’, honey.”

“Then why aren't you dressed yet? We gotta go.” She clicks her tongue to indicate they need to hurry. He just closes his eyes and hangs his head. “What is it? Talk to me.”

“I don't have anything to wear.”

“You literally have more clothes than anyone I've ever-”

“I don't have anything right to wear.” He slides his glasses off and pinches the bridge of his nose. She wraps her arms around his waist and squeezes him.

“Anything you wear will be perfect.” He looks down at her in her red dress with her makeup perfect. She looks so young and pretty, like she doesn't belong with him at all.

“Tink, I should probably just stay here.” She pulls away from him and looks up at him with a frown on her face. “Now don't go makin’ that face.”

“You told me you'd come with me.”

“Honey, I've just been thinkin’ and I don't-”

“Do you love me?” She puts her hands on her hips.

“Of course I do.”

“Do you trust me?” He sighs deeply.

“Yes.” She turns to the rows of clothing and picks out a black silk shirt with puffed sleeves, a red scarf, and some black pants and hands them to him.

“There. You can pick your belt and jewelry.” It's an outfit he never would've put together himself, but once he gets a gold belt and necklace on with his favorite black and red jacket, he's satisfied. He's especially pleased when he stands next to Jo in her red minidress with black tights and boots. They look like they belong together now and he smiles. There's just one thing missing. He walks over to a drawer and pulls out a box with a red bow on it.

“I was saving this for tomorrow, but I think you need it tonight.” She takes the box and looks up at him. She's no spring chicken, so she recognizes a jewelry box when she sees it. He watches as she opens the box to reveal a gold necklace with the letters ‘TLC’ around a lightning bolt, the whole thing encrusted in diamonds. “What do ya think?”

Jo is speechless as she looks at the necklace. She's never had anyone buy her such a lavish gift. Her voice comes out as a whisper.

“It's too much.” He tips her chin with his knuckle to make her look up at him.

“Nothing is too much for you. I can never repay you for what you've given me. So please, take the necklace and anything else I give you.” She nods slowly and he takes the necklace out of the box and puts it on her. He pulls back and whistles. “It suits you.”

“It's beautiful. Thank you.” She touches it with her fingertips gently.

“It goes with mine.” He pulls the gold ‘TCB’ necklace out for her to see. She’s seen it before, but never really given it much thought. “It tells people that you go with me.”

She wraps herself around him again and pulls him into a deep kiss. He holds her close and hums as he presses his lips to hers. When they finally break the kiss, he sighs.

“Alright, let's go. Meetin’ my girlfriend’s family. I'm not nervous at all.” She looks at him funny.

“Girlfriend?”

“Well, yeah. What did you think you were?” She shakes her head and shrugs.

“I didn't want to assume.” He grabs her and tickles her sides and she giggles, trying to get away.

“You're mine, Tink. If you've forgotten, I'm happy to throw you on this bed and remind you.”

“Later. Right now I have to take my boyfriend to meet my family.” She takes off running down the stairs and he follows her as quickly as he can, all the way to her car, where he pins her against it and kisses her, his tongue slipping into her mouth as he presses his hips against hers.

“You sure you don't want me to have Jerry drive us?” He whispers in her ear, his breath hot against her skin. She whimpers, but tries to resist.

“No, babe, your cars are too obvious. People will follow us. We need to be in my clunker.” He looks at her car. It really is a sad excuse for a vehicle.

“Well, okay then.” They slide into the front seat and he ducks so that the people at the gates don't see him.

******

When they pull into the neighborhood where Jo's parents live, Elvis looks at her in shock. It's one of the fanciest neighborhoods in Memphis with big, old houses that are both historic and beautiful. His jaw drops when she pulls up in front of a massive colonial mansion and stops the car.

“This is where you grew up?!” She laughs.

“God, no! This is my stepdad’s house. His family owns a lot of real estate in Memphis and he's some bigwig at a bank. They got married when I was 17.”

“Oh…”

“No, I grew up in an apartment with my deadbeat dad and my mother working two jobs to make ends meet. She's living the American dream now.” He nods and then leans in and kisses her cheek.

“So are you.” She looks at him and giggles.

“No, babe, I'm living a goddamn fairy tale.” He chuckles. “Now, come on. We're already almost an hour late.”

At the front door, Jo's not sure who is more nervous, her or Elvis. She holds onto the bottle of wine they've brought with a vice grip. Finally, her stepdad answers the door.

“Jo! You made it. And you brought… company…”

“Hi George. This is Elvis.” To his credit, her stepdad adjusts quickly and shakes Elvis’s hand without any further ado. As they make their way through the foyer, George grabs Jo.

“Your mother is going to have heart failure.” She looks at him with her eyes wide.

“Oh God. Let's hope not.” She runs to be in front of Elvis when he walks into the dining room where everyone is seated for dinner.

“Jo’s here!” Her mother jumps up from the table and runs to her, grabbing her in a hug. “And who have you- oh my God.”

“Hello, ma'am, I'm-”

“Elvis Presley.” Jo’s mom holds her hand over her mouth as Elvis stands there awkwardly. Everyone at the table is silently staring and Jo starts to panic. Maybe this was not a good idea.

“Elvis!” Amy launches herself out of her chair and onto Elvis like she's known him her whole life. He catches her in a hug.

“Hey, kiddo.” That seems to jar Rob back to reality as well, so he stands and shakes Elvis's hand.

“Nice to see you again. This is my wife Christine.” The introductions finally begin and everyone seems to relax significantly except Jo's mother. She's still starstruck, so Jo goes over to her.

“Mother. Please calm down. He's just a person.”

“A person you've idolized for two decades! How did you… when did… he…?” She stumbles over her whispered words.

“We met at one of his shows. We've been together since then. Now, please calm down.” Jo doesn't mention that the show was less than two weeks ago. Elvis walks back over to them, hoping he can put her mom at ease. He puts his arm around Jo's waist and holds his hand out for her to shake. She looks up at him and puts her hand in his and he promptly lifts it to his lips and kisses it.

“Elvis, this is my mother, Rose.” Jo looks up at him and he smiles.

“It's a pleasure to meet you, Rose. Thank you for raising such an amazing daughter.” Jo’s mother giggles.

“Oh! Aren't you sweet? Thank you. It's lovely to meet you.” Once the initial pleasantries are finished, Rose and the rest of the room settle back into dinner as Elvis and Jo take their seats. The meal passes with good food and polite conversation that gets more and more comfortable as each minute passes. By the end of it, everyone is talking and laughing with Elvis like they've known him for years. Jo is impressed with his ability to blend in, and honestly he is too. But he reminds himself that he's just a person like they are. There's no reason he should act any different. He glances over at Jo every once in a while and smiles, his body filled with a kind of golden warmth when he looks at her.

“She's really something, isn't she?” Jo’s aunt Carol asks, catching Elvis as he stares at her.

“She really is.” He looks at Carol and smiles.

“She's been through a lot. It's nice to see her happy. My sister did her best to raise her, but they didn't have it easy. She's done well for herself.” Elvis nods, not sure where this conversation is going. “I'd hate to see her go through more. She deserves something real.”

Ah, there it is.

“Ma'am, I assure you, I have no intentions of hurting her.” Elvis looks at Carol seriously.

“We never intend to hurt people, do we?” Jo had mentioned that her aunt was tough and protective of her to a fault. This must be what she meant.

“No, I suppose not. But I'll say this: I've never loved anyone the way I love her. If I ever hurt her, it'll hurt me more.” Carol gives him a small smile and pats his hand.

“Good answer.” She moves the conversation to a different topic and he catches Jo's eye. Her eyebrows raise when she sees who he is talking to, but he gives her a warm smile and she's reassured. For a couple that's only been together for a matter of days, they communicate without talking pretty well.

The evening passes fairly quickly with the children opening presents and the adults drinking hot apple cider and eggnog. At one point, Jo's sister-in-law looks around the room for someone to take her six-month-old while she deals with something else for the kids. Without hesitation, Elvis takes him and holds him in his lap, playing with him and talking to him quietly.

“He's good with kids.” Jo’s stepsister Christine comments.

“Yes, well, he's a dad.”

“Mhmm. He only has the one daughter?” Jo answers without taking her eyes off of Elvis.

“Yes, Lisa Marie.”

“Have you met her?” She turns to look at Christine.

“No. I suppose I will tomorrow, though.”

“Sounds like it's pretty serious, then.” Amy runs up to her mom and Christine wipes the chocolate off of her face before she runs away again.

“Yeah… you could say that. He asked me to move in with him.”

“Oh, my. Is that what you want? A life with a rock star?” Jo purses her lips.

“I want a life with him.”

“You don't want a family?”

“Why couldn't we have a family?” Christine shrugs.

“He already had one and it didn't work. I'd think he's done with that part of his life. And I've read that he-”

“I'm going to stop you right there. Whatever you've read is probably not true. And as far as a family goes, he and I are all the family I need.” Jo means it when she says it, but the second she does, she starts to wonder if it's really true. Christine nods.

“As long as you're happy.”

“I am.” Jo takes a big swig of cider.

“Then I'm happy for you.” Just then, Elvis makes some face at Jo as one of the little girls puts a Christmas bow on his head and she almost giggles openly. Christine catches the interaction and puts her hand on Jo's shoulder. “He seems like he really loves you.”

“He does. And I love him.”

“Then that's all you need to know.” She pats Jo's shoulder and then Amy is back and she has to go get her something in the kitchen. Jo turns back to Elvis where he bounces her nephew on his knee and talks very seriously to her other two nieces, his hair now full of bows. Would he be willing to have more children? She's always thought of herself with kids someday, but is Christine right about that part of his life being over?

******

When the evening concludes, Elvis and Jo say their goodbyes and head back to her car to drive home. He's in the driver’s seat this time and she's leaned against his shoulder happily.

“Hey, honey, can we take a quick detour?” She sits up a bit and nods.

“Sure, babe.” He turns down a road that will lead them out to the country, but not really towards Graceland. About twenty minutes later, he pulls the car off of the road and parks in a small clearing.

“You got a blanket in the trunk?” She nods, glad that she does. He hops out and fetches the blanket. “Come on, Tink.”

She grumbles and slides out of the car. He wraps the blanket around his body and pulls her to him so that the blanket covers her too.

“Now look.” She looks out where he points and gasps. They're on a bit of a hill, so she can see the whole field below them filled with fresh, virgin snow. Above that, the moon is almost full as it glitters on the blanket of white crystals. The image is breathtaking and she almost cries with how pretty it is.

“It's beautiful.”

“This is one of my favorite spots. I love how many stars there are out here. And especially when there's moonlight on the snow.” She's quiet for a bit as she takes in the scenery. Then she whispers.

“Thank you for sharing it with me.” He squeezes her and presses a kiss to her temple.

“I want to share everything with you.” Jo sighs. There's been a question burning inside her since she talked to Christine at the party.

“Can I ask you something?” Her heart flutters in her chest. It's not even what she thought she wanted, but being with him is different.

“Sure, Tink.” She hesitates for a moment, scared that this might be another thing that comes between them. He has the same fear, even though he doesn't know what she's about to say. Taking a deep breath, she continues.

“Would you want to have more kids?” He leans down and turns so that he can look her in the eye. She waits anxiously as he searches her face. At first, he's reluctant to make promises, but then the image of them in front of the fireplace with their little family passes through his mind and he knows his answer.

“Yes, honey. I'd love for us to have a little Elvis Junior or baby Jo runnin’ around.”

“Really?”

“Of course, Tink. I love kids and I love bein’ a daddy and I think you'd make a great mama. If it's what you want, we'll have a dozen kids.” She giggles.

“I think one would be plenty.”

“Whatever you want, honey.” He wraps the blanket tighter around them and she lays her head back on his chest. Fat snowflakes start to drift down from the sky as they stand there together.

Jo is as happy as she's ever been living her fairy tale. But she can't help the niggling thought that this might all be over as soon as he leaves for tour or Vegas. He's saying all the right things, but does he mean them long term? She's never been one to worry about the future, but the thought of losing him makes her stomach turn over. Still, right now he has his arms around her and she's perfectly content to stay there forever, looking out over the untouched snow with the moonlight sparkling like diamonds.

******

Almost the end!

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

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