#mo ran’s mother tried so hard to show mo ran the importance of kindness and it WORKED

[the-broken-truth]

Hey um if requests are open could you do house dimestrecu headcanons with a 👦🏻 reader maybe where the reader is alcina's biological son perhaps how the girls would be with an older brother sibling rivalry and stuff like that

Broken Truth: I smell drama! Let the words weave together!!

The Son of Castle Dimitrescu

"Mother, we brought you fresh prey." Bela said as she and her sisters drop the cloaked man on the ground behind the Lady's Grand Chair.

"Once again, my daughters are tending to my needs; so kind." Alcina said as she placed her wine glass down. "Let's take a look at them." She rose from her seat and looked down at the cloaked figure, obviously in pain.

"What is this, Daughters?" Alcina asked as she walked closer to the groaning figure - obviously male from the deep pitch of voice.

"We found him struggling to get to the castle - he kept muttering to himself." Bela said.

"He was obviously in pain but he really wanted to get here," Cassandra said as she kneeled by the downed man and grabbed the back of his hood tightly - catching his hair too. "Must really wanted to die."

"Ngh...Gah...M...M...Mother..." The man groaned but Cassandra scoffed before throwing his head to the ground - slitting the side of his head open.

"Ha, so pathetic - it's calling for its mother." Dani laughed when the smell of blood hit their noses. "Mmmm... He smells good. Do you want the first bite, Mother?" She asked.

Silence.

"Mother?" She asked again as she looked up at the tall woman...and the stunned look on her face - pure disbelief.

"Impossible...There's no way..." Alcina said as she sniffed the smell of blood again - it was familiar...far too familiar for her to be mistaken. She kneeled to the ground and gathered the man in her hands before yanking his hood off - her face gave a shattered expression when she took in his features.

"[Y/N]?" Her voice came as a whimpering whisper, she looked as if she was going to cry. The man opened his eyes - piercing golden eyes - and looked into Alcina's before smiling weakly and reaching out of her.

"M...Mo...Mother..." He said before his hand fell to the ground and his awareness was pulled to the back of his mind.

"[Y/N]? [Y/N]?! STAY AWAKE, MOTHER'S HERE! MOTHER'S GOT YOU NOW!" Alcina panicked as she gathered the man into her hands and ran out of the room, calling to the closest maid to get the doctor to the Old Master's Room.

The sisters just stood there confused for a few moments before they followed their mother and the man who was supposed to be their dinner.

[An Hour or So Later]

"How is he?" Alcina asked the doctor as she came out of the room with her mask on her face.

"He's very weak and malnourished, not to mention all of the scars and insection marks on his body. Wherever he's been for the past decades shows that he wasn't treated well and was used as a lab rat." The doctor explained.

"When will he wake up?" Alcina asked.

"Judging by the bags under his eyes and the paleness of his skin, he hasn't been able to get a proper night's rest - he might be asleep for a few hours or even days, but when he does wake up, he'll need a proper meal to get his weight back up." The doctor explained.

"Thank you, you may leave now." Alcina gave a dismissive wave of her hand and the doctor walked away as Alcina opened the door and walked. The entire time - the Dimitrescu Sisters were standing behind their mother, completely confused as to what was going on and why their mother was taking care of the food. They looked at each other before nodding and following their mother inside the room.

Here's the thing - throughout their entire lives living in this grand castle, they have never once been in this room; it remained locked for as long as they remembered and their mother kept the key close. When asked about the room, Alcina would get defensive and explain that the room was never to be opened - and if it was opened for any reason, there would be horrible punishments.

The first time they saw the room - it was grand: The walls were covered in Royal Blue Velvet with dark Ebony trims along the walks, the rug was large and circular - black with the Dimitrescu Crest in white in the center, the bed was against the wall with dark blue blankets and sheets, around the room was black wooden dressed and along the walls were different kinds of blades - from knives to full-blown dragon-head spears.

Bela walked over to her mother - her sisters following behind her - and looked as her mother eyed the sleeping figure of the man who rested in the bed with a smile on her face and tears in her eyes.

"Mother..." Bela tried to find the right words, "Mother, who is he? Why are you crying for him? Who is he to you?" Bela asked. Alcina wiped her tears before turning to face her 3 daughters.

"He...This man is someone very important to me. Someone I lost a long time ago before I met you, my wonderful daughters." Alcina said in the chair at the dresser - it was strong enough to hold her weight. "As you all know - I have a blood disease and it made it hard for me; one main issue I had was that I couldn't birth my own children...or so I thought." Alcina gave a sad smile.

"What do you mean 'or so you thought'?" Cassandra asked.

"There was a time, around the time I met Mother Miranda, that I found I was pregnant - I didn't believe it until I began seeing the results of pregnancy. I thought I would lose the baby, just as I had lost all my others but...I didn't. The baby was born healthy - it as a miracle that it didn't inherit my blood disease; it was strong...just like his father." Alcina smiled sadly.

"His Father?" Bela asked before her eyes widened in realization, "Mother...you don't mean..." Alcina nodded.

"Yes, that man is [Y/N] Dimitrescu - The Son of House Dimitrescu." Alcina smiled and looked at her sleeping son but the daughters...they could be more afraid.

[A Month Later]

Once [Y/N] opened his eyes, Alcina was all over him, babying him just as she did before he was taken away from her when he was a toddler - she tried asking him where he was for all that time but it made him whimper, he couldn't even be touched without flinching. His right leg experienced a deformity and Alcina gifted him a cane to aid him in getting his mobility back.

Whenever he would move, Alcina was right by him.

When he needed something, Alcina would be the one to get it.

When he was hungry, Alcina would personally demand the best food for her son.

When it was dinnertime, Alcina insisted that he'd sit beside her, which was Bela's spot.

Alcina would do anything and everything for her son - and the girls didn't like it.

They would try anything to get their mother's attention but nothing seemed to work.

Bela managed to get her mother a rare vintage - she shared with [Y/N].

Cassandra managed to hunt down large game for her mother - it was overlooked while she dined with [Y/N]

Daniela made her other a painting - it wasn't even looked at for Alcina was watching [Y/N] read.

The girls hated their older brother.

They didn't even see him as their brother - just an old burden that should have stayed gone.

He took their mother from them and he was going to pay for it. Dearly.

One day - Alcina had left for a House Meeting; [Y/N] begged her not to bring up the fact he turned to the castle in the meeting - it was a strange request but she agreed and left for the meeting. The moment she was gone, [Y/N] began to hobble in a random direction on his cane before it was suddenly kicked from under his hand, making him fall onto the cold hard tile.

"Look at this, sisters; the little thief without someone to protect him." The voice of Bela stood over him as she placed her foot on his back - her heel in his spine.

"We've been waiting a long time for this, you bastard." Cassandra said as she walked into the room with her sickle in her hand - the sight of the tip made the golden-eyed man freak out and try to crawl away.

"Oh, look. He knows he gonna die and he's trying to scurry away." Daniela said as she kicked the man in his side, making him curl in pain.

"No! Please, no more! Leave me alone!" He cried in fear.

"No more?! We haven't even done anything to you yet, rat!" Bela yelled.

"But you've done so much to us - taking our mother from us?! Have you lost your damn mind, Man-Thing?!" Daniela yelled.

"No, Mother, please don't! Mother! Mother!" He cried again.

"Mother isn't here to save you now but you're gonna suffer for all the time you spent with her, taking her away from us, you useless burden!" Cassandra raised her weapon and was about to strike when the words that came out of his mouth made them freeze.

"No, Mother Miranda; please don't hurt me! I'll be a good boy, just please, no more needles! No more pain! I won't ask to see my sisters again, please don't hurt me!" He curled up, clenching his head in pain as memories flooded back into his mind.

"Mother Miranda?" Bela asked.

"Needles and pain?" Cassandra said.

"His sisters?" Dani finished.

Bela took her foot off the man's back and listened to his pleads - his begging not to be hurt, wanting to see his mother, wanting to see his sisters. They looked at each mother before Bela kneeled on the ground before him and gathered his face in her hands, silencing him and asked what he was talking about. Once he calmed - he explained everything:

When he was a toddler - his father took him to see the Village's Priest, Mother Miranda, who gave him a large pouch of coin and he was never seen again. Mother Miranda then began to run experiments on him, trying to determine what made it possible for him not to inherit Alcina's Blood Disease. She mixed his blood with the Cadou and found an interesting symbiotic relationship between the two and was kept there for further experiments. The Cadou gave him the ability to regenerate faster but broken bones were harder to heal with the power. After decades of being a lab rat - he watched as Miranda made the daughters right before his eyes; he was there when they came to life and he called them sisters before Alcina called them daughters. He begged Miranda to see them, talk to them, and know something beyond the walls of his cell, but all Miranda did was cut him open and harvest his organs while he was still awake.

He managed to escape when Miranda was distracted with another experiment and left her keys unattended - he let himself out under the cover out night and got away from that hellhole. He had been limping with a broken leg, missing organs that were still regrowing themself, just to get to Castle Dimitrescu to see his mother & sisters.

The Daughters looked ashamed - for him to go through all of this for decades and risk everything to be with them...they were horrible sisters. They held him and begged for his forgiveness but all he could do was cry as he finally had sisters and was able to learn their names.

When Alcina came back - she wanted to spend time with her children but it turned out that the sisters wanted alone time with their brother and she was shooed out of the room - guess she'll have some wine until dinner then.

[ibijau]

jin ling / oyzz 32 pls!! :3c ❤️ u!!

so blocked on other things that I’m finally getting back to my prompts yay

If there was one thing Jin Ling had learned early on, it’s that fate hates him. His familial situation is good proof of this, though it is his love life that makes it the most obvious.

At twelve, he developed a crush on a girl from another sect who was staying in Jinlin Tai as a guest disciple. She was about two years older than him, pretty as the sunrise on Yunmeng’s lake, and strong enough to break a fierce corpse’s neck with her bare hands. It took Jin Ling weeks to decide how to talk to her, and when he finally did, an enormous pimple appeared right in the middle of his nose, disfiguring him. Jin Ling tried every remedy he could buy to bring his face back to normal, but only managed to make things worse. He never had a chance to talk to that girl, and she soon returned to her own sect, leaving Jin Ling completely heartbroken and ready to swear he would never love again.

A few months later, at thirteen, Jin Ling fell in love with a Yunmeng Jiang disciple. He tried to impress the older boy by showing off his diving skills. It was a common game for his uncle’s disciples, and Jin Ling had played it often enough as well. He liked to think he was good at it. His uncle had said he was good at it! And yet when he tried to dive in a very cool way to impress that one Jiang disciple, Jin Ling hit his head against something and nearly drowned. After that, he refused to come again to the Lotus Piers for ages, not until his uncle dragged him away from Jinlin Tai and forced him to go to a rather ill fated Night Hunt that changed his life.

If Jiang Cheng hadn’t taken Jin Ling to Dafan Mountain, he wouldn’t have met Mo Xuanyu. If he hadn’t met Mo Xuanyu and been rescued by him, he wouldn’t have had a debt toward him and helped him run away from Jiang Cheng in Qinghe. If he hadn’t angered his uncle like that, Jin Ling wouldn’t have needed to lay low for a while, and he wouldn’t have stumbled upon a group of juniors from various sects. And then…

Then he wouldn’t have met Ouyang Zizhen.

Meeting Ouyang Zizhen had been both a blessing and a curse. Well. Mostly a curse, actually.

Jin Ling, fourteen, with a bad ego, an even worse temper, and about to be hit in the face by more family secrets than any fourteen years old boy ought to have dealt with, just didn’t need the added horror of being in love again. It really was unfair and needlessly cruel of Ouyang Zizhen to be just that perfect, and handsome, and eloquent, and kind, and…

For a good while, Jin Ling managed to keep himself under control. He had bigger things to worry about, such as not getting killed by Xue Yang, or not getting killed by fierce corpses, or not getting killed by his uncle, and also discovering that his family was an even bigger mess than he’d ever realised, which was really saying something. And yet even with all those much more important things to keep him busy, Jin Ling couldn’t stop thinking about Ouyang Zizhen’s smile, his heartfelt tears for that ghost girl in Yi-City, the fierce way he’d fought in the Burial Mounds, how he hadn’t hesitated to stand up for Wei Wuxian… and also how he had firmly sided with the Ghost General against Jin Ling.

It really was Jin Ling’s fate to be eternally unlucky in love, he’d thought after that. And then, when he’d learned what kind of men his uncle and grandfather were, he’d figured that maybe his bad luck was just so his family would end with him, and stop making a mess of things.

And yet, in spite of being clearly cursed with the worst luck in the world, a few weeks after suddenly becoming sect leader, Jin Ling had received a letter. Not just any letter, either, but an invitation to join some other boys on a Night Hunt, among which Ouyang Zizhen who had been the one writing that invitation. Jin Ling’s broken heart had mended on the spot, delighted to find that Ouyang Zizhen had thought of him for this. Considering their last interaction hadn’t been too great, it had to mean something if he was invited, right?

It took some effort to convince the Jin elders, but in the end Jin Ling was sect leader now, and so nobody could really stop him from going wherever he pleased. He flew as fast as he could after leaving Jinlin Tai, and arrived less than a day later at the residence of the Baling Ouyang sect where Ouyang Zizhen welcomed him with that beautiful smile of his.

“You arrived a little early,” Zizhen said as he guided Jin Ling inside. The Baling Ouyang sect wasn’t very big, nor was it very rich, so the place they lived in was not much when compared to Jinlin Tai. Yet because Zizhen was there, Jin Ling found that simplicity charming, and that smallness cozy. “My father has a guest with him,” Zizhen explained, “but they’ll be leaving to their own Night Hunt soon enough. Well, they say Night Hunt… mostly Yao zongzhu and him like to head out and find a nice place to drink without my mother and auntie Yao bothering them.”

Jin Ling grimaced. Sect Leader Yao wasn’t very high on the list of people he liked to deal with. Zizhen noticed his expression of course, and laughed.

“I know, I know,” he said, leading Jin Ling inside a reception room decorated with rustic charm. Or at least, so Jin Ling chose to call it. “Jin zongzhu, just wait here and…”

“You can call me Jin Ling.”

“Wouldn’t that be disrespectful?” Zizhen asked. “I imagine people already give you a hard time for being so young, I don’t want to be too familiar and undermine your authority.”

Jin Ling’s poor heart started beating faster in his chest. Ouyang Zizhen really was too perfect, kind, courteous, clever… Even other kids in Lanling Jin were sometimes making a fuss about using Jin Ling’s title, especially those older than him, but here was Ouyang Zizhen, worrying about his image!

“I don’t care what others think,” Jin Ling said with all the haughtiness of a teenager with too much power. “You are my friend, so you can call me as you like.”

“Then maybe Jin Rulan?” Zizhen suggested. “It would be less…”

“You can call me anything you like, except that,” Jin Ling promptly corrected.

“Ah. Well, Jin Ling it is then,” Zizhen said, giving in. “Listen, I do have to tell my father that you’re here, or he’ll be cross later. He’ll probably want to drop by, but I’ll do my best to make sure it’s short. And then… it’s still early, and I don’t expect anyone else to arrive until tomorrow, so we could try to have some fun in town together?”

Jin Ling eagerly nodded at that proposition. Time alone with Zizhen sounded like the best thing ever. If he played this right…

While Zizhen left to go see his father, Jin Ling started pacing the room, trying to plan a course of action for the evening. He didn’t know what they might end up doing, since he’d never spent any time in Baling before, but surely he could hazard a few guesses. They’d have to eat, for example, and Jin Ling would of course offer to pay. Zizhen might protest, being the host, but Jin Ling would use the rank card and treat the other boy to any and all delicacies could be found in these parts. And surely there were interesting sights to see, or a scenic place perhaps? If they could go walk somewhere pretty, then Jin Ling would just have to take Zizhen’s hand and…

Or would it be better to talk about his feelings before? Jiang Cheng always said it was better to be direct in those things, so there could be no misunderstandings. Of course Jiang Cheng was terminally single, so perhaps not the best example to follow. But directness had seemed to work pretty well for Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji in that temple in Yunping, so clearly there was a merit to that idea. But how to confess? Zizhen was an eloquent person with a poetic turn of mind, whereas Jin Ling… well, Jin Ling knew where his strength laid, and it definitely wasn’t in eloquence. It ran in the family, apparently.

On both sides.

It was fine though. There was no shame in having a practical turn of mind. When they were married, Zizhen would be eloquent in his stead, and Jin Ling would do the accounting, and they’d be a perfect team. For that reason, it made sense that his declaration should be a reflection of his personality: direct and to the point. He just needed to stay calm, find the right words, politely express his intentions, and everything would be fine.

Jin Ling just needed to keep his cool.

All things considered, he should have remembered that this was not something he’d ever been good at.

So when he saw the door start to open again, when he caught a first glimpse of Zizhen’s beautiful smile, of his elegant eyes, Jin Ling panicked.

“Zizhen, I like you a lot!” he shouted. “Please allow me to court you!”

Ouyang Zizhen froze on the spot, while the door finished opening, revealing sect leader Ouyang and sect leader Yao behind the teenager, both of them staring at Jin Ling in shock.

Realising what he’d done, Jin Ling nearly fainted.

This time his reputation was ruined for ever, and he was never going to live it down.

[fortheloveoffanfic]

Lullaby

Keanu Reeves x Reader  (Chapter Summary- At a party, Keanu and Y/n meet for the first time and here, more than ever, first impressions count.)  Warnings- Age-gap, sexual insinuations (Releases on Wednesdays)

Chapter 1

Y/n never understood it, how she could manage to feel so alone in a crowd so big. Even with friends, the center of attention, just as she had been for so much of her life; the girl who everyone liked, who everyone wanted to be. The offspring of a socialite and the president of a company that ran the world’s fastest growing hotel and resort chain, rubbing elbows with the best of almost every industry. She came from a long line of old money, the finest of everything at her fingertips, being raised to be as influential as her parents, attending the parties, the fashion shows, taking the vacations. Y/n should have been happy, it was the optimum of the American dream and she hadn’t done a thing to deserve it. It was merely the luck of birth. She should have been happy, but she wasn’t, not really. Empty, maybe; she always had a hard time finding the same joy her parents had. 

Things had gotten a little better after Y/n had returned from college, re-integrating into the life, but to say that she was truly happy would still be a reach. Sure, her empty laughs weren’t as hollow and her persistent frown had turned into a line, usually painted in deep red, but that was about it, at the end of the night, when everyone left their house, Y/n still just as lonely as she was when they were there. 

“The guest list this time is insane,” someone said beside her, her cousin, just about five years older; Jillian. They usually found each at events like that, sticking together, with Jillian typically being the one to pull Y/n into crazy escapades that otherwise weren’t allowed.

Summoning a wide grin that she hoped would reflect pride, Y/n turned to Jillian, who looked much like herself. If their families weren’t so famous, if everyone didn’t know them, people might mistake them for sisters. A beautiful pair, who had been as genetically blessed as they were in every other way, had grown up extremely close, their families’ kinship intertwined; their fathers were brothers and their mothers were sisters, because after all, money was usually only ever attracted to money. At least, that was what they had learned. “It is,” Y/n nodded, “My mom met some people in Paris a few months ago, when she was there for fashion week. Some of the models brought their boyfriends.”

“Ohhh,” Jillian sang, “They must be the hot guys holding the purses. You think their open to infidelity?”

“What about Robert?” Y/n laughed quietly, for real that time. Robert was Jillian’s fiancée, but if they lived in nineteenth century, he might have been called her betrothed, with their relationship coming from family politics rather than love. He was a handsome man, probably in his early thirties, though his snotty demeanor and constant scowl had added another five years to his age. Robert’s family, like their own had descended from riches, and he was set to inherit millions in addition to a chain of companies. His still new relationship with Jillian, which had been an arranged one, was what their parents liked to call a “good match” and if Y/n didn’t start looking soon, she might be half of the next one. 

“What about him?” Jillian scoffed, rolling her eyes, “Rob usually has a stick so far up his ass that he’s blinded to everything else. Besides, he’s terrible in bed. We tried once and he kept licking my cheek.”

“That’s....really fucking weird,” Y/n cringed, walking arm in arm with Jillian around the edges of the room as they surveyed the crowd, or rather, its selection of men. Looking around, one might have thought that money could by looks; most of the people there, especially the ones around their age were gorgeous; from models to movie stars along with other, pretentious looking faces filled the Y/n’s home. Some lingered in the grand foyer while several others had gathered in the dining room and in the living room on the other side. “He’s hot,” Y/n pointed out a man near one of the bars, holding a wine glass, talking with an older couple. 

Jillian hummed in agreement, “He is,” she giggled, “And look at his hands, that means he has a big dick, right?”

Y/n shrugged, “I guess, but I thought it was shoe size,” she frowned, in all actuality, stumped on the issue.

“I don’t know. But at this point, it doesn’t matter, I just need to get laid,” Jillian grabbed Y/n’s hand, their fingers lacing as they placed their wine glasses on the table, “Come on,” she pulled her along towards their prey.

Keanu stood near a set of stairs, caught in conversation with people he didn’t even know. He didn’t know why he had accepted the invitation, maybe it was because when his manager had gotten the call, his publicist had insisted it wasn’t an invitation he could reject. They were too much of a prominent family, not going might have seemed like a snub which would only mean months of bad press. 

So, there he was, faking smiles and pretending to like everyone. Keanu had only been there for about an hour, and he had yet to meet the hosts but already he could tell he wouldn’t like them. Who threw black tie parties in the middle of he week without any foreseeable cause anyway? Worse yet, their house screamed ‘pretentious snobs’; reflecting the highest levels of French luxury. Walls lined with art from internationally famed artists framed shiny marble floors which in turn surrounded a grand staircase with a glittering chandelier hanging above. Two hallways stretched into a seemingly never-ending distance and the rooms on either side of the foyer were enormous, decked with imported furniture and cream and gold embellishments. It was the kind of place that made people scared to sit anywhere, that looked as if it belonged in a magazine or on display. There was no personality, no one thing that might reminded the guests that it was a family’s home.

Keanu couldn’t wait to get home, and hopefully, never get invited to another one of their parties ever again. With a heavy sigh, he wiggled his way out of yet another polite conversation, “Excuse me,” he cleared his throat, already stepping away, “I’m gonna head to the bar.” His leave was greeted with stiff nods, polite smiles and empty promises that they would all talk soon. 

Keanu journeyed to the bar, carefully avoiding any other interaction; he didn’t think he could stand anymore eye-rolling conversation without some sort of intoxicating buffer. 

As Y/n scurried to follow Jillian her hand had eventually slipped out of her cousin’s. Gigging too much to pay attention to her surroundings, she ran straight into someone, “Oh my god,” she gasped, barely evading their spilt drink; her mother might have had a heart attack if Y/n ruined her brand new dress, it had been a gift from the designer himself. For a minute, she watched as the whiskey made a pool near the edges of the navy blue silk and Y/n even had to lift her dress a little to spare it. Thankfully though, the glass hadn’t fallen too, else that might have been worse. With her eyes still cast to the floor, she was given the opportunity, Y/n was given the opportunity to look at the other party’s shoes; a pair of worn brown boots that looked like they were more suited to hiking as oppsed to attending elaborate parties in Beverly Hills, “I’m so sorry about that,” Y/n mumbled, her eyes travelling up, settling on his face. She almost had to stifle a gasp, never in a million years would she expect to see him at one of her parents’ parties, it didn’t seem like his style. Then again, she didn’t know him, not personally. Longish dark hair framed a handsome face, ending just above broad shoulders and his trimmed beard peppered with hints of grey handsomely complimented chocolate eyes. You’d have to be living under a rock to have never heard of him. Keanu Reeves.

He smiled at her warily, finding it a little cute that she stood several inches below him, “It’s fine,” he waved her off, “Maybe I’ve had too much anyway.”

Y/n chuckled quietly, shaking her head, “If you’re not leaving drunk, then I can assure you; you haven’t.”

“Is that so?” Keanu cocked a curious eyebrow, “What makes you say that?” Even as he spoke to her, Keanu found that the girl before him seemed oddly familiar, like he had seen her before. She was beautiful too, the kind of gorgeous that didn’t go unnoticed, still, he couldn’t quite place her face.

“Well,” she began, not in the slightest bit star-struck or phased that she was in the company of one of the world’s most famous movie stars- Y/n had had her her fair share of famous meets, “That’s what these parties are for. There’s propbaly more booze than there is water here tonight, and there are three pools in this place, so if you aren’t getting drunk, it’s all a waste.”

“You don’t seem drunk,” Keanu shot back, his handsome features taking on an interested smirk.

Y/n chortled, rolling her eyes, “Not yet.”

At that, Keanu scoffed; for a girl probably no more than twenty five, she sure seemed to have some fire in her. For a minute, they both just stood there, drinking each other in, and when he could barely hold her challenging stare for any longer, Keanu offered his hand, “I’m-”

“I know who you are Mr. Movie Star,” Y/n took his hand, her own easily dwarfed by his, giving it a slow, firm shake. It took a beat, but Y/n finally relented, ready to give up her own name when she was rudely interrupted by Jillian ‘rounding back towards them.

“Hey,” she greeted, smiling as she looked between them and Y/n reclaimed her hand, “You’re mom’s looking for you. She’s in the living room.”

Y/n sighed reluctantly, “Alright, to be continued?” She glanced to Keanu, cocking an eyebrow.

“Sure,” he obliged, watching carefully as she and the other woman, who looked much like her, they must have been sisters, he thought as they disappeared into the sea of people.

”Mom?” Y/n called as Jillian deserted her in search of more male entertainment.

“Honey!” Her mother returned cheerily, her father holding out an arm, pulling Y/n into a sideways hug, “We’ve been looking for you.”

“I’ve heard,” Y/n responded coolly, “What for?”

“Why else?” Her father was in a jovial mood, a sign that the alcohol had already shaken of his usual seriousness, “Our guests need to meet the future president of Warren Enterprises!” He explained, as if it were already plainly obvious, “Come on” with one arm draped loosely over her shoulder and the other secured around her mother’s waist, Y/n’s, father led them to and up the first landing of the stair case.

Loudly, he cleared his throat and clinked his glass with a spoon someone from the wait staff had provide. Y/n’s mother stood close to his side, smiling warm and proud, her hands circling his middle. Y/n’s scanned the crowd, for some reason, stopping when they locked with those of a familiar celebrity. From where she stood, she could almost see his mouth ‘o’ with recognition and she had to bite back a sly smile. When he had almost everyone’s attention,  her father began, “Goodnight ladies and gentlemen and thank you for taking the time to join us tonight. Most of you know probably know my family and I, but for those of you who don’t; I’m Michael Warren and beside me, is my beautiful wife, who’s way out of my league; Heather Warren,” Y/n’s mother blushed, lightly slapping her husband’s chest. Nearly thirty years of marriage and they were still every bit it love, depending on the day, Y/n would either find it extremely sweet or nauseatingly annoying. After he had quickly kissed her cheek, Michael continued, “And finally, we have the apple of my eye, our greatest achievement and the future president of the Warren chain of companies; Y/n Warren, my daughter,” at that, the crowd erupted in a round of polite applauses. When they died down he kept going, “In a few years, I know that Y/n will lead the Deliciae hotels, along with all our other endeavors  towards greater excellence, as she has done with everything else.”

Michael raised his glass and Y/n nodded in thanks, trying to ignore the bubbling anxiety that usually came with the thought of having to take her father’s place one day. As an only child, it was obvious that she’d be the one to do it, it was a fact that she had been sure of since she was twelve, but it never made knowing  easier. Sure, she had gotten a degree from an ivy league school, graduating at the top of her class, she was being trained for it everyday, shadowing her father since her return from Philadelphia a few months back, but still, Y/n didn’t think there was enough education or training in the world that could ready her for running a multi-billion dollar company. “To Y/n,” the words broke Y/n out of her thoughts and she forced herself to smile, whispering a quiet thanks as everyone rose their glasses

Not long after, everyone dispersed again, the quiet hum of chatter all around filled the house once again. Excusing herself from the company of her parents, with shaking, nervous breaths, Y/n decided that she needed some air and a drink. Collecting a glass of champagne from one of the trays being carried around by a waiter, she hustled towards the nearest patio door at the side of the dining room. Waiting until she had burst through the wide screen doors, cool air hitting her like a much needed slap in the face before her breathing grew heavy and ragged. As the panic from in the troubling thoughts grew in her chest, she fought burning tears, trying desperately not to sob right then and there.

“Are you okay?” A familiar male voice asked, coming from the side.

Y/n almost jumped at his question, turning wide eyed to find Keanu coming out from a dark patch near the bushes, tossing a cigarette to the cobble stoned ground, putting it out with the toe of his boot. Quickly, she turned away, downing the contents of her glass and swiping under her eyes, “Yeah,” she nodded stiffly, her voice breaking just a little, “I’m fine.”

“Doesn’t look like it,” he commented casually, stuffing his hand into his pockets as he stepped closer, “That’s a lot of pressure for a.....”

“Twenty-three,” Y/n provided her age with a huff, sniffling, embarrassed that Keanu had caught her on the verge of tears.

“For a twenty-three year old. That’s what’s bothering you, right?” He smiled sympathetically and Y/n’s face fell a little further, admitting he was right. Keanu rubbed the back of his neck nervously, feeling a little ridiculous for checking her out when they had first met. She was just a kid, way too young to be worrying about keeping a business of that size successful and worse, too be befriending a man his age. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Y/n scoffed a laugh that didn’t really have any humor behind it, “No.” Casting her gaze towards the awning land that spanned about a mile before it was blocked off by a high wall, she discarded her empty glass on the near by outdoor table. “I don’t know,” she shook her head, “I guess, I always knew that I’d have to do it one day. I mean, they aren’t gonna be around forever, but just knowing, thinking about it.....it’s horrifying. I’ve never even planned a birthday party or a family dinner I can’t run a company.”

“Maybe you can’t,” Keanu shook his shoulders, going to stand next to her, sure to leave an arm’s length between them, “Maybe you’re gonna suck. You could fuck it up, run the whole thing into bankruptcy, lose all your family’s money. You could do so terribly that all people will associate with you is failure.”

Y/n’s jaw slacked and her eyes widened with horror, “Well that’s not helping,” she scoffed, her lips quivering ever so slightly.

“You’re right, it’s not. But it’s also what you’re telling yourself. That you can’t do it. And you’re right to think it, because it is a real possibility. But you know what else is a possibility?” Keanu folded his arms, turning to face her.

When he didn’t offer anything further, Y/n loosely mirrored his stance, tilting her head, “What?”

“That you kick ass and you become one of the best presidents that your family’s company has ever seen,” when Y/n finally smiled at the positive thought, Keanu did too, pleased with himself that he had seemingly managed to help her mood. Then he continued, that time a little lighter, “Or you know, you at the very least, manage to keep it afloat.”

Y/n huffed a quiet laugh, playfully slapping his shoulder, “A plus advice,” she complimented as she grinned a little wider, “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome, but I don’t give advice,” he brushed off.

“Ohh?” Y/n raised her brows, curious, “So what was that?”

Keanu shrugged uneventfully, “Thoughts,” once again, he returned his gaze to the far off wall.

“Well whatever you call it, thank you,” Y/n said once again and they fell into comfortable silence.

For a while, they just stood there, but eventually, Keanu abruptly announced, “You know, I don't think we’ve been formerly introduced. Keanu Reeves,” he held out his hand.

Biting back a smile, Y/n once again took Keanu’s hand, marveling in how they could be soft and calloused at the same time, “Y/n Warren. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Likewise,” Keanu beamed, “I knew that you looked familiar.”

“Yeah? Y/n giggled, her hold on his hand steady, “Do you know me from that time I got drunk in Bali on Spring break or that ridiculous family of the year article on my parents?”

“Both good references,” Keanu agreed, finally putting together all the places where he had gotten a glace at her name or a peek of her picture somewhere on the internet, “But it was actually on that Time’s piece on top 20 heirs of the decade. If I remember correctly; you liked double chocolate ice-cream and your first car was a red BMW for your eighteenth birthday”

“Good memory,” Y/n giggled, her eyes sparkling, “But it was actually a Mercedes for my sixteenth birthday.”

Keanu nodded wistfully, rubbing his fingers through his beard, “That’s.....just as fancy. Mine was a Volvo,” his tone was light and teasing, highly unlike the annoyance she’d get from people who never saw past the money.

Y/n joined his quiet laugher, sighing as it died down. “What are you doing here anyway? No offense, but you’re not the kind of guy that I expected to see at one of these things.”

“And what kind of guys do you usually expect to see?” Keanu probed, admittedly interested in what Y/n meant.

“Arrogant pricks,” she offered bluntly, “But you,” she squinted dramatically, “You don’t seem arrogant, or like a prick.”

“Thanks?” Keanu chuckled, “I stayed at one of dad’s hotels a couple months ago and we met. It was probably for just a couple minutes, but I got then invitation about two weeks ago and my publicist basically said that I had no choice in the whole thing. So,” he gestured widely with outstretched arms, “Here I am.”

“Here you are,” Y/n mirrored, blushing for a reason that she couldn’t point out. It usually took a lot to make her blush, but something about Keanu made it easy, or maybe it was the alcohol. 

“So you were forced,” Y/n mused, “I can totally relate.”

“Oh yeah? Why’s that?” Keanu chortled, trying to ignore how much more beautiful Y/n seemed now that she was smiling. 

Y/n snorted in a way that her mother might have deemed ‘unbecoming’, “You think I wanted to spend my Wednesday night talking about proposals and mergers? And worse yet, how available everyone’s son is,” Y/n’s eyes rolled at just the thought of all the conversations she had had that night, about how much time she had spent running around with Jillian dodging anyone with a single son her age.

Keanu’s head fell back in laughter and Y/n thought, that for a man old enough to be a father, she was immensely glad that he wasn’t, considering how attractive he was. Rugged handsomeness; Y/n had seen the movies and the pictures, Keanu had aged like expensive whiskey, if only she could have a taste. “People have been trying to set you up?”

“Yeah,” she nodded, “Minus the pony show, it kind of felt like a county fair.” Their laughter eventually became reduced to twined smiles and as the space between them lessened, “I’m not interested their type though.”

“Their type?” Keanu’s brows furrowed, “What’s their type?” He licked his lips, looking down at her close to his chest, as much as he had resisted it, Keanu had drawn closer to her. God, his mind whispered as their close proximity clouded his thoughts, she’s so beautiful, a doll wrapped up in fine silk. 

“Boys,” her voice had grown hoarse, in a throaty whisper, “I don’t like boys, they’re so.....immature and inexperienced.”

Keanu hummed in a agreement, “Sounds like you need a man.”

“It does, doesn’t it? A man with experience, who knows what he’s doing,” as she spoke, Keanu’s hand went to her waist, running the side of her torso before going around her, settling on the small of her back.

“Aren’t you something?” Keanu chuckled lowly, Y/n a little closer, “And here I was thinking you were a good girl.”

Y/n gaze darkened and she smiled suggestively, “Is that what you want me to be?”

All the alarms in his head had started to go off by then. She’s too young, half of his mind insisted, but every other part of him pushed him to submit, to kiss her and then some. Y/n looked so delectable, already in his arms, pressed to him. Keanu could feel her heat through the barrier of their clothes and the inviting view of her cleavage aided by the low cut of a dress that didn’t allow for a bra wasn’t really helping either. “Fuck no,” he breathed, his hand sliding a bit lower, cupping her backside. Keanu would have liked to think, that by all counts, he was a pretty decent guy. The kind that followed the rules and didn’t typically grab a girl’s ass an hour after meeting her, but Y/n was so enthralling that she was reminding him that under the right, or rather; the wrong circumstances, he could be anything but decent.

Licking her lips one last time, Y/n’s arms circled Keanu’s neck and without another word, he leaned down, his lips hovering a bare centimeter away from hers. It was a hair away from happening, and Y/n knew that she wasn’t ready for it to end there. She could feel his breath on her face and she cocked her head to the side to get a better angle, closing her eyes as she did. 

“I have terrible timing, don’t I?” And just like that, they sprang apart, both sucking in nervous breaths. Y/n’s hand went to clutch her chest, ignoring the sinking feeling she got as the moment got further and further away. 

“Jill?” Y/n groaned, disappointed. 

“Sorry,” she cringed, “You two were in the middle of something. My bad,” Jillian held up her hands defensively, “I swear I wouldn’t have interrupted if it wasn’t important.”

“Okay,” Y/n nodded and when Jillian didn’t go on, she gestured with her hands, Well, what is it?”

“Oh yeah! Um, they need you inside.....it’s urgent,” for another minute, Jillian lingered in the doorway, her eyes flicking between them, “Well, I’ll give you two a minute and meet you inside. Okay? Okay, I’m going now,” she waved awkwardly.

Once again nervous, Keanu stuttered, “You should....”

“Yeah,” Y/n nodded hurriedly, “I need to.....get......I’ve gotta go,” she shook her head, scurrying off.

With a heavy sigh, Keanu ran his hands though his hair. Half of him was disappointed that he hadn’t gotten to at the very least kiss her, while the other was relived that he hadn’t, the former being a little more overwhelming. Turning on his heel, he was trying to clear his head, when he heard the clicking of heels behind him, “For the record, you know where I live, and I’ll be here tomorrow if you’re still interested.”

“Alone?” He offered a intrigued smile.

“Completely,” Y/n winked, once again hurrying off. At her final exit, Keanu scoffed, still smiling, she really was something, and he could already tell that Y/n was up to no good. 

[mimymomo]

Orphydice/Weathering With You AU Part 1

Okay this AU has been bugging me all night so I have to scream about it to my unknowing followers. (Damn it Mo, not another AU! You don’t have time for this!!) Do not be alarmed inner me, this AU will mostly be confined to a list! This one in fact! Or another one is this one does on too long...

I know for a fact that no one in this fandom saw this movie so I’ll try to explain it as best as I can here:

Eurydice was a runaway. Even at the bitter age of 16, she knew what kind of situation she was in and it wasn’t a good one. Neglectful parents, living in a small town where everyone knew one another’s business but that didn’t mean they were gonna help you with shit.

She tried to get emancipated once, saved up a bunch of money from side temp jobs between school but that plan ended up dead in the water before she could jump off the diving board. Her parents found and stole her savings, her hard-earned money. They gave her hell for it, going around telling stores, not to hire their “problem child” and she couldn’t find a permanent job afterward.

So she ran. Hopped on a bus and set out for the city. While traveling, the weather got bad. The weather had been doing that more and more recently. Sure it was April and storms happened, but not violent snowstorms that lasted days and frozen over lakes and roads, inches piling high along street-sides. Or rain showers the flooded fields and drowned basements. Thunder and lightning shaking homes and striking trees. Winds sweeping children off their feet, soaring in the sky like a tangled kite.

One such storm occurred during the journey, heavy rains and violent winds, forcing the driver to make an emergency stop at a motel and wait out the storm. As Eurydice steps off the bus, one of her bags (a small drawstring sack) gets swept up in the wind aim the direction of the street and she gives chase. As she reaches down to grab her bag, she sees a light in the corner of her eyes, shining bright and drawing closer, closer.

Suddenly she’s yanked back as a honking car zooms by. She’s being held snug against someone’s chest, someone who smells of something floral and a hint of alcohol. “Gotta be careful, girl. Don’t wanna be turned into a pancake now do ya?”

Eurydice turns around and freezes- the woman is beautiful: long ankle-length dress the shade of healthy green grass, her brown curly hair is braided back, flowers of different colors twisted in the mix. Her eyes warm and attentive. She’s carrying a small bag herself, with what looks like a few bottles of wine sticking out the top.

She introduces herself as Persephone and before Eurydice knows it, they’re sharing a room together. Eurydice tried to protest but the woman clad in green insist already arranging a room with a double bed. A few hours later, they’re showered and laying on their beds, room service spread out on trays and Seph half finished with a crack open bottle.

Persephone tells Eurydice she was visiting her mother up north (her mom apparently owns a vineyard) however her trip was cut short when her husband demanded (her words) her to return. “That man,” Seph curses drunkenly, waving her bottle, the liquid sloshing around the funneled glass. Eurydice’s only know Seph for a few hours but she’s already enamored with the woman and her attitude.

The next day when they arrive at the station, Seph offers Eurydice a business with her information on it: “Anthomania” in flowery lettering along with an address and phone number. A flower shop.

“I never asked but what brings you to the city? I can tell from your expression that you’ve never been here before.” Eurydice wasn’t ready for that question. “Oh just visiting, uhh some...relatives! Yeah, relatives! For spring break.” Seph rolls her eyes, not believing the girl for a moment but deciding to play along anyway, “so you know where you’re heading then?” Eurydice nods and they separate.

The first week is a struggle. No one will hire her with her limitations (no resume/references, she’s underage and constantly asked where she should be in school, she doesn’t have an address nor her social security number, and she can’t give out all her information in fear of her name popping up on a missing child’s list). So to put it lightly...she’s kinda screwed. She’s been staying in a really cheap hostel living off corner store food. She gets in trouble for loitering a few times and once while rummaging through some trash she came across a gun and decides to keep it for safety reasons (this will be important later)

One day, thinking she’s walking into a job site, she accidentally stumbles into an old, rundown bar. There’s barely anyone in there besides two people sitting at a table in the far corner, a man passed out at the counter. The air smells musky, traces of pungent alcohol fill the air and also the smell of someone buttery. Eurydice’s stomach growls. She didn’t have money to spare on breakfast or lunch recently. She knows she shouldn’t but she takes a seat at one of the tables, her back facing the bar counter. She contemplates what she’s doing and maybe if she should go home. But that thought disappears just as quickly as it showed up.

Out of nowhere, a tray of two burger sliders and a basket of fries are set down in front of her, followed by a glass of water. Eurydice whips her head and is met with two hazel eyes, the prettiest eyes she’s ever seen. The boy is young but has a charm to him. Lanky and tall, his brown hair sticks up to the sky as if his fingers had just run through them. “Sorry if I’m overstepping but you looked hungry and lost so...” his voice is soft and awkward as hell, but she finds it endearing. “Also Mr. Hermes will be back soon and he probably won’t like seeing someone underage so I’d eat that quick.” “How do you know I’m underage?” Eurydice shoots back with a raised brow. The boy flushes pink, blood floods his cheeks, ears, and neck, “oh! I’m sorry! I just thought-”

Eurydice laughs, “I messing with you.” “Ohhh...okay,” the boy smiles, scratching lightly at his cheek. Eurydice finds herself fighting a blush as well. ‘Why is he so cute??’ “I can’t pay for this.” The boy waves her concerns off, “it’s on the house.”

Before she can argue and refuse, a customer yells for around round and the boy begins to shuffle away. “Thank you,” Eurydice butts in, “for the food, I mean.” The boy grins and walks away.

That burger and fries were the best food she’s had in years.

The next day, she finds herself standing outside Anthomania, the brick building sits on corner, wide windows that let you see completely inside the shop. It’s flowers, everywhere- flowers along the walls, in stands amidst the floors, in pots, small and large, arranged bouquets in buckets near the front. Eurydice steps in and is overwhelmed by the sweet scent, sunlight bleeding in from the washed windows. What catches her eye is a small bouquet of carnations: reds, pinks, and whites. “Didn’t expect to see you here so soon.”

Eurydice jumps and spins around to see Persephone with her arms crossed, her green dress replaced with a garden styled apron. The two catch up and Seph calls Eurydice out for lying about visiting relatives. Eurydice stays the rest of the workday and later as Seph is closing up shop, she intends to walk about to her hostel room but Seph offers her a ride. Once the get there Seph forces her to grab her things and pays the bill. And drives her to her place.

It’s huge, a mansion guarded by a gate at the edge of town. The inside is just as beautiful as the outside but eerily quiet and somehow suffocating in a way. She meets Seph’s husband, Hades. He works as a CEO of some company, mining? Electric? Eurydice doesn’t know. He doesn’t seem particularly fond of her especially after Persephone announces that girl would be staying with them for now on and being working as an assistant/apprentice at her flower shop. Hades fights her on this but the woman wins out in the end.

As the days go on Eurydice notices how dysfunctional the couple are. They definitely love each other but...oof. Eurydice, when she’s not working her shifts, starts cooking meals and cleaning around the house and starts winning over the man of the house and the three slowly start to become a sort of family in the following month.

One day a customer comes into the flower shop, bracing the stormy weather. He’s an older gentleman wearing a silver suit with dark skin and gray hair. He’s coughing hard but still cheery. Seph and the man catch up and Eurydice figures they must be close. She doesn’t mean to eavesdrop but she hears them talking about something crazy: an urban legend of a child blessed by the gods who can control the weather. She thinks it’s stupid and doesn’t realize she said that fact out loud.

“Maybe child but you never know,” the man chuckles. Seph laughs at Eurydice’s shocked face, “brother, this is Eurydice. She’s working for me as an apprentice as sorts.” The man shakes her hand and begins to cough harshly again. “You should really go and get that checked out,” Persephone persists. The man waves her off, “I’m aight, just a little cough from the weather. Plus money’s been tight with the bar and all plus the boy.” He buys a few bouquets to be delivered next week and leaves. Eurydice ponders about why he said, ‘it’s impossible,’ and she leaves it there.

She’s the one who has to make the delivery. Turns out it’s the same bar she met that boy at. She hesitantly walks inside hoping to see the boy but no dice. She drops off the flowers and says hello to the man who she still doesn’t know the name of and heads out. Halfway back to Anthomania she sees something that catches her eye, no, someone. ‘It’s that boy!’ He’s being dragged by two older men, his face nervous. She can instantly tell something is wrong. She follows them and sees them leading him down a dark alley in the direction of a shady building. Before she realizes she already running. She grabs the boy's hand and they’re off.

The two men chase after them and corner them, knocking Eurydice to the ground. Eurydice reaches into her bag and pulls out the gun. The men at first think it’s a fake and start to roughhouse the boy saying that he set them up and will have to pay which causes Eurydice’s blood to boil. She grips the gun tightly, her fingertips turning white, she trembles and her vision goes hazy from rain and adrenaline, then suddenly...bam!

A shot gets fired off.

No one was hit but everyone is shocked. The boy is surprisingly the first to recover and he pulls Eurydice to her feet and they run away.

The escape to an abandoned half-underground train station. Trains covered in moss and plant life lay there rusty as sunlight barely shines through dirty grime-covered windows. Despite its uncleanliness, there’s something magical about this place, Eurydice can feel it in her bones.

“Why did you do that? Where did you get the gun?” the boy asks, huffing and puffing, athleticism is not one of his strong suits. “I thought you were in trouble,” Eurydice fights back. “And I found it.” The boy dips his head, “my guardian is sick but he always says that he doesn’t have the money to spare to get checked out. I needed to make some extra money and they promised me a well-paying job at this not exactly savory club if I performed there.”

Eurydice gapes, she has so many thoughts running through her head she doesn’t know where to start so she just says, “you’re a performer?” The smiles, “yup, I sing and play guitar. Plus I write my own music. I never introduced myself huh? I’m Orpheus.” “Eurydice.”

“Do you want to see something cool?” Orpheus asks, acting as if the previous incident with the gun didn’t just happen. “I mean, sure but it’s kinda a mess out there,” Eurydice points out. Orpheus ignores her and offers out his hand. Eurydice takes it and they walk back to the entrance.

When they reach the outside, the sky is gray and cloudy. Rain and sleet pour from the sky mixing with the dirty dusting of snow on the ground.

“Would you like the weather to be better?” Orpheus asks. “I mean of course I would,” Eurydice shrugs, “but I doubt that’ll happen anytime soon.”

“I don’t know,” Orpheus says, his eyes shut lightly. “I think the weather can surprise you. Just watch.” Eurydice looks around not sure where she should be looking until...

“La, la la la, la la la~!” A heavenly voice rings out, echoing among the buildings.

Suddenly the rain stops and the clouds part and disappear from the sky. Rays of sunlight breach out coolers by a rich sea of blue. The sun...Eurydice hadn’t seen the sun in so long.

“Oh my god, you’re a weather child! You can control the weather!” Eurydice screams, turning to Orpheus who finishes his song as a small red flower appears in his palm. A red carnation.

He offers her the flower and smiles. “Yeah, I guess you could say that I am.”

...

Wow, I typed all of this and only got like...1/3 of the way into the movie...so part 2 coming soon? I love this movie and subsequent au so it’ll probably be out tomorrow if people want it?

[swinfinities]

Long Live the Queen: Part Sixteen

Padmé took a long, deep breath. It had been years. Long, heart-wrenching, war-torn years. A long time ago, she had been a senator and a diplomat. Negotiation and diplomacy had been her weapons of choice. Now, somehow, she was a general, coordinating attacks and deploying troops, waging war against the most hated man in the galaxy—a man that she had once considered a mentor and a dear friend.

Padmé had only begun to realize that she shouldn’t be so surprised by where she had ended up. Her entire life had been war. Even as a newly-elected queen, war had found its way to the peaceful world of Naboo. She had hardly been a teenager then. She often wondered then if she was really ready for such responsibility. She still wondered.

But it didn’t matter now. The past was the past. The only thing she had the power to change now was the present. And now it was time for action. It was time for her son to come home.

Home. She wasn’t sure where that was, anymore. It had been Naboo. But now that was only a world tainted with sad memories. She hadn’t been back since the Clone War ended. After a while, Padmé just sort of accepted that she was now someone without a home. Like a Purrgil, drifting amid the stars.

But Luke had a home. At least, Padmé hoped Luke would still treat it like his home. For all its faults, Tatooine had kept her son safe for years. Hopefully it would again.

Until they all jumped right back into the danger.

The battered old Corellian YT-model freighter thundered down from the sky, kicking up a miniature sandstorm as it came to rest on the sand.

“It’s a wonder that thing still flies!” coughed Owen Lars.

Padmé’s reunion with the Lars family had been a much sweeter one than she had anticipated. In spite of the way that she had left things, running off in the middle of the night with their nephew and that “crazy old wizard.” They hadn’t spoken in years. For all they knew, Padmé and Luke were both dead, or left rotting in some Imperial prison.

But, as always, Owen and Beru brought Padmé back into their home with open hearts and tearful eyes. And Padmé forgot why she could have ever expected anything different.

When the dust had cleared and the roar of the freighter’s engines died off, Padmé’s heart leaped when the first pair of feet came strolling down the boarding ramp.

She hardly recognized him. She remembered leaving behind a little boy, blonde-haired and starry-eyed. Scared, but ready for adventure. He had returned now a young man, with a strong body and an even stronger resolve shining in his blue eyes.

He was dressed in Jedi robes, the long brown cloak flowing in the wind, his blonde hair shining in the light of the suns—his father’s lightsaber hanging at his waist.

Padmé broke down into tears. Because he looked just like Anakin.

Luke held his mother, and she let herself melt into his arms. The two wept together for a while, happy to just be together again.

“Oh, Luke,” Padmé sobbed. “I can’t believe I ever let you go.”

“It’s alright,” Luke said. “It’s okay. It was supposed to happen. It… well, this was my destiny.”

Padmé had never really understood the Force, at least not in the way that a Jedi did. But she had often heard them speak of destiny and the will of the Force. Now she prayed—to the Force, if it would listen—that destiny wasn’t going to lead them into disaster.

After a few minutes, Obi-Wan Kenobi exited the freighter, followed closely by the diminutive figure of Master Yoda.

Padmé finally pulled herself away and dried her tears, freeing Luke to greet his aunt and uncle. 

“Obi-Wan,” said Padmé. “It’s good to see you again.”

“And you as well,” he said, bowing slightly. “I was hoping that at least a few tears would be shed on my behalf, but—”

Padmé laughed. “I’m glad the swamp didn’t do much to weaken your sense of humor.”

 “That remains to be seen,” Obi-Wan replied. “But I am glad, at the very least, for a dry pair of boots.”

Padmé smiled down at Yoda, leaning on his gnarled wooden cane.

“Master Yoda,” she said.

“Your Highness,” he replied.

I am a queen no longer, she thought to reply. But she knew better than to argue with one as wise as Yoda. After all, she hadn’t lived for nine hundred years. So, she was just glad to let the warmth of his smile soften her war-hardened heart for a short, happy moment.

“Not too poorly, the war has treated you, I hope?” Yoda asked.

“As good as any war can treat someone, I suppose,” Padmé sighed. “There are worse days, and there are less worse days.”

Padmé laughed softly, but it was a sad laugh.

“But I don’t need to tell you that,” she said.

“Mmm,” Yoda grunted in reply, shaking his head. “A terrible thing, this war is. Much death have I sensed. Yes, and pain. Much pain still to come, I fear.”

“Well, if your plan really does work, Padmé, hopefully we stop this war before it really gets started,” said Obi-Wan.

“We’re going to need all the help we can get,” Padmé said. “Even three Jedi may not be enough. Which reminds me… Luke?”

He spun around, turning away from his embrace with his Aunt Beru.

“There’s … someone you need to meet,” Padmé said.

She walked up to her son, placing her hands on his shoulders, which were already almost too tall for her to reach.

“This may be hard for you to hear, and… I know you’re probably tired of so many secrets. But it was so important that this was kept a secret, even from you. It was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done, I promise you. But it was the only way to keep the two of you safe.”

“I don’t understand—” Luke started to say.

“There is…” Padmé said. “There is another Skywalker.”

Luke’s eyes narrowed in confusion. Or was it surprise?

“What?” he gasped. 

Padmé looked toward the entrance of the old Lars homestead—the one that had been their home for more than a decade. She motioned for someone to come.

A young woman stepped out from the shade. She was dressed in a simple white robe, her hair done up in two elaborate buns on either side of her head. A white hood was draped gently over her head to shield her porcelain skin from the garish sunlight.

“Luke,” Padmé said. “This is your twin sister: Leia Organa, Princess of Alderaan.”

*****

“You know,” Luke said. “It’s funny.”

“How’s that?” Leia replied.

“How you got picked to be Princess of… what is it? Alderaan. And I got shipped off to Tatooine of all places, living on a moisture farm. You know, there’s not a kid in Mos Eisley that wouldn’t kill for a chance to set foot in a palace, let alone live in one.”

“Living in a palace isn’t really as glamorous as you think it is,” Leia said, rolling her eyes.

“Oh, yeah, I’m sure it’s really hard waking up to the butler bringing you breakfast in bed every day. I can’t even imagine how difficult it must be to step out of bed and wonder ‘which balcony shall I sit on to sip my tea today?’.”

Luke tried (rather poorly) to mimic the snooty sort of accent that he had heard many of the core-worlders and Imperial-types use.

Leia socked Luke in the arm. They both laughed.

The long-lost siblings sat alone together in one of the small cabins of the ship that was speedily carrying them back towards the fourth moon of Yavin. It was quiet, except for the dull vibration of the hyperdrive echoing through the cold, metal walls.

Leia sighed and shook her head.

“All this time,” she muttered. “I never knew I had a real family. I mean… my parents—”

“You mean Her Royal Highness, Queen of Alderaan?” Luke tried the accent again.

Leia shot him a look.

“My mom and dad,” she corrected. “Are my real family, of course. But I always thought my birth parents were dead. Then, a few years ago, I met Padm—er… my real mom. Our mom. But I had no idea who she was. Still, I always had this weird… feeling when I was around her. I don’t know... I don’t know how to describe it.”

“I know exactly what you mean,” said Luke.

“And then… I started getting involved with the Rebellion,” Leia continued. “My dad didn’t like it, but… it was where I belonged. I’ve been lucky enough to see behind the Imperial curtain, so to speak. I know what really goes on in the Empire. And I decided a long time ago that I can’t sit around and wait for someone else to stop it. Anyway… I saw mom around the Rebel base on Yavin a lot, at least whenever I was allowed to be there, which wasn’t often. I knew she was someone important. She hardly ever showed her face to anyone outside of High Command. Only a few people knew her name. It was only a couple weeks ago that I found out why. My dad just sat me down with her one day and explained the whole thing. That Padmé was my birth mother. That she was Padmé Amidala, Queen of Naboo. That I have a brother. That my father is—”

Leia choked on the words.

“Anakin Skwalker,” Luke finished for her. “Jedi Knight. That’s who our father was. Darth Vader is… something else.”

Leia sighed. “I cried and cried for days after that. I don’t know if it was happy or sad, or sometimes both. I was so excited to have this new family, but just so sad that I missed out on it all before. Eventually, I ran out of tears to cry. And now… now I just don’t know how to feel.”

Luke placed his hand on hers.

“Afraid,” he said. “That’s how I feel, anyway.”

“I thought Jedi weren’t supposed to be afraid,” Leia said.

Luke looked down at his feet, sheepishly. “Fear begets anger, anger begets hate, and hate begets suffering. It is natural to feel fear. It’s what you do with it that matters. Do you turn inward or do you turn outward? At least… that’s what Obi-Wan always says.”

“I’ve heard lots of stories from my dad about Master Kenobi. It’s kind of crazy that the hero from my old bedtime stories is sitting in the next cabin over.”

“And I never even knew he was a Jedi. All my life, he was just the old hermit that lived on the edge of the Dune Sea. Then, all of a sudden, he is a Jedi Master, and I am supposed to just leave everything behind and become a Jedi, too.”

“I’m sorry,” said Leia. “I really can’t imagine what that must have been like. Being so alone for so long…”

“Don’t be sorry. I guess I was scared for a while. And then I was angry for a while after that. But I wasn’t alone, not really. Obi-Wan and Yoda helped me. They made me into who I’m supposed to be.”

“You think it’ll be enough?” Leia asked.

“Enough for what?”

“Enough to win.”

“I… don’t know.”

The Skywalker siblings were quiet for a while.  The silence made it easy for the weight of everything that was about to happen start to sink in.

“Do you… do you think we’re going to make it through this?” Leia asked, clearly forcing back tears.

Luke didn’t say anything for a long time.

“I’ve been taught that I shouldn’t fear death,” he said at last. “That I should… how does Yoda put it? ‘Rejoice for those that transform into the Force.’ But… somehow… I know that we’re going to see dad again. And that’s all that matters.”

“How can you know?”

“A feeling.”

[mybeautifuldecay]

Private Tutor. Chapter Twenty-Seven; I Haven’t.

I know this has been a long time coming, but I have some New Years resolutions - one of them is to get this one more up to date with less time between updates. Writing these days is incredibly hard because my job from September suddenly became quite intense and I’m finding it increasingly more difficult to enjoy Show!OL to the point where I sort of zoned out...though I still love fic of all kinds. 

Happy New Year all!! <3 

Master List is HERE if you need to remind yourselves :)

The phone call came in the middle of an intense study session and Claire barely heard it ring.

“It’s for you.” Murtagh called, sliding her mobile across the bar as she lifted her head from the particularly large textbook.

“Hello?” She answered before mouthing ‘thank you’ to Murtagh and slipping into the ladies bathroom. “This is Claire speaking.”

As the door closed behind her, Jamie came out from the kitchen, wafting the hot chips with his free hand. They could hear a slight mumbling through the thick wood but no actual words which made him edgy and nervous. Putting a chip into his mouth, he placed the bowl on the bar and kept his eyes glued on the bathroom.

“It willna make her come out any quicker, my lad.”

“Do ye ken who it is?”

“Nah, I couldna tell, though he was Scottish.”

“It’s Ned,” he sighed, “I dinna think she kens anyone else other than Joe and he’s a Yank.” At the mention of the lawyer, his heart rate increased exponentially. With the chips going cold in front of him, he tapped his foot nervously against the bar stool. He could see her wandering up and down through the glass panel but there was nothing he could do to alter the course he just had to hope that Randall had done the honourable thing.

Stepping outside, shedding the scent of stale urine, Claire bit the inside of her lip to try and stop herself from crying.

“I’m free.” She whispered, the choked sound echoing around the empty pub as Murtagh quirked a brow.

“Christ. Sassenach. He signed them?”

“Y-yes. By noon tomorrow I’ll officially be divorced.”

A smile overtook the worry on Jamie’s face as he stood and strode towards Claire. Placing his hand over the arch of her belly he rested his forehead gently against hers. “In three months, mo nighean donn, ye’ll be a mother and I’ll be a da - and we’ll be free to marry should ye want to and I canna wait.”

Tears ran down her face, her cheeks pinked from holding her breath as Ned had conveyed the good news to her and her heart was beating clearly in her chest as the weight of her sham marriage lifted from her shoulders.

After their return from Lallybroch and through the beginning of Claire’s course both her and Jamie had patiently waited for any news from the lawyers about the proceedings but Ned had been suspiciously quiet for a whole two months. Though cold, September and October had been milder than usual but they had both begun to numb themselves - even the excitement of the coming halloween hadn’t brought Claire any relief. But, now, just in time for the run up to Christmas, Ned given them some unexpected (added) joy.

“I don’t think I can read anymore about the central nervous system tonight.” She hiccuped, her hands shaking as she placed the phone back into her pocket.

“Nor should ye have to,” Murtagh interjected, “have some champagne on me, aye?” He said, reaching into the small fridge to collect a bottle. “Go upstairs and celebrate the two of ye.” With a wink and a nod he passed the cold Bollinger over to Jamie and watched as the two disappeared through the door to Jamie’s apartment.

They were calm and quiet for all of a moment but the second the air settled around them, Claire let out a squeal of delight, her hands coming to cover her mouth as she bounced on the balls of her feet. “I’m free, Jamie. A divorcee.”

Standing with his hands in his pockets, Jamie twisted the material against his fingers, the sweat dripping down his spine as his hands gripped the small velvet box that he had concealed earlier. “How would you feel…” he started, the pulse racing in his neck as he tried to pluck up the courage to ask the important question, “if I were to ask ye, Claire *Beauchamp*...”

She saw the nervous twitch, the tilt of his head which highlighted the wee droplets of moisture forming on his forehead and she recalled the time, not so long ago, when she’d removed her first wedding ring and how it had felt to finally be free of the shackles of it.

“You remembered my maiden name.”

He’d seen it on the forms she’d been filling in and he’d taken an internal snapshot for reference later.

“Aye. I want to ken everything about ye, Claire.”

“Including whether or not I’ll say yes...to your question?” She said with a knowing glint in her eye.

“Aye.” He whispered, the nerves suddenly dissipating.

Reaching forwards, she pulled his hand from his pocket and smiled shyly at what she saw clasped between his fingers. Placing her mouth carefully over his, Claire kissed him as she rested her hand over his. “I think you already know how I’ll answer. I don’t think you’d have been carrying this-” squeezing her fingers around the back of his hand she let her nose bump against his as she paused, “waiting for Ned to call with news if you had even considered the possibility of me saying no.”

“Say it, then.” He returned, his eyes closed now as he pushed his flat stomach against her distended one. “If ye know what ye want.”

“Right now, would you judge me if I said I just wanted you to take me to bed?”

In the last month her hormones had gone wild, lust ravaging her at a moments notice and having Jamie touch her - even in the most discreet way, caused her temperature to rise in the most delightful way.

“Say yes and I willna judge ye ever again.”

“I’d say screw you, Jamie, but really I mean it the other way around.” She sighed, giving him her most coquettish look.

“Such a filthy mouth, Miss Beauchamp, I like it.”

Removing her top with a swift flick of her wrists, she mouthed “good” as she stepped backwards towards the bed.

Perched on the edge with the duvet scrunched around her bottom, she looked glorious with her maternity bra sitting snuggly between her belly as it covered her breasts. He wanted her naked, he loved seeing the changes in her body as she grew bigger with their child and he especially loved seeing the flush blossom across her skin in the few moments when desire began to take hold of her. She didn’t even need to tell him, she just got this twinkle in her eye and then her flesh just seemed to get this iridescent glow that called to him on a primal level.

“If you want them off,” she said as she leaned backwards on the bed, “you just have to come over here.”

Needing no more coaxing, Jamie went, wrapping his arm around her waist he pulled her close and buried his nose beneath her chin. She smelt of talcum powder, a type of motherly scent that clung to her skin. Dragging himself lower he placed his mouth over her covered nipple before sucking softly.

She moaned making him suck harder. Even half clothed he could tell that she was desperate, the way she bucked her hips and clung to him, her hands now lost in the mass of curls that lay at the nape of his neck.

“Have ye thought about much else for the last few weeks?” He moaned as he fell onto his back, pulling her over his hips.

“I haven’t. No.”

“It’s just us now, Claire. You and I. There’s nothing to stop us.”

Undoing the clasp of her bra and flinging it onto the floor, she took both of his hands in hers and lay one of her the arch of her belly and one over her bare breast. “I’ve never been happier.” She whispered, the rasp of her voice causing the breath to leave his lungs in an instant. “There’s nothing I want more. So yes, Jamie,” she continued, writhing her hips suggestively, “Yes. I’ll marry you.”

[swoleovan]

Fingertips Across My Skin

{4.8.19, 11:00 PM}

Clyde threw his phone on the bed, along with himself. A sigh escaped him as he wrapped his inner elbow around his eyes, surrounding his vision in complete darkness. This plan of Eric’s was very much out of his usual comfort zone, Clyde wasn’t built to be malicious in any way. But he was angry, and cheated. It all felt too unfair. He knew it wasn’t the right thing to do, but he’s doing it anyway. He’s going to help break whatever thing is going on between his dad and Liane.

Liane was a good soul. She was always kind to him when he was younger, always asked him if he wanted some snacks and just all already reminded him of a good mom. It’s not like it was a bad choice in a woman. Clyde could think of a million and one different ladies his dad could have been with that would have been terrible for the family. Clyde was angry because it was happening. He didn’t want his dad to move on. He didn’t want a new mom. He didn’t want anyone to replace his mother. No one had the right.

He removed his arm and sat up in bed, glancing at his phone. Eric had yet to respond. He might be stirring up some plan that suggests they kill Roger. Clyde will have to do everything in his power to convince his friend that no, murder is not the answer. The brunette looked back at the clock that sat on his end table. It was late. He should probably get to bed.

Clyde shrugged the jacket off of him, throwing it on the ground in a pile of dirty laundry. He kept telling himself he was going to pick it all up later, but then later always came too soon and he’d push it back again. Maybe now was the time to do it. He stared at the pile for a bit, then walked over to his hamsters cage. Maybe he’ll pick it up finally later. Sunshine was resting peacefully in her little favorite corner, and Clyde didn’t want to bother her. So he just opened the door a tiny bit to pour in some food for the night, and closed it as softly as he could.

Buff was no where to be found, as usual. Clyde just stepped out of his room and nudged the food bowl with his toe, trying to leer Buff out of his hiding spot. It didn’t work. Oh well, looks like he’ll just see him in the morning. The boy poured food in there as well.

The television wasn’t running. Clyde knew this because he was the only one in the house. But he could still hear soft noises, as if a conversation was being held somewhere in the house. Clyde stood up straight, slowly, listening as carefully as he could. When he determined that yes, that was someone voice in his house, he reached into his room to find his metal baseball bat for protection. He hoped it was just one of the guys coming over for an unexpected sleep over. Kevin did say he wanted to stay with him all week while his dad was gone, after all. But Clyde receive any information about it. So he could only assume the worse.

He took small steps towards the stairs, his ears twitching every time he heard that noise. He couldn’t make out the words, but now he could hear something being tussled with. Part of him thinks Buff turned the tv on again, and that he’s getting worked up over nothing. But his heart still ran fast, and his hands shook every so slightly with fear of the intruder also having a weapon.

When he got to the stairs, however, he didn’t hear anything coming from down them. Confused, Clyde lowered his bat. The minute he did, a gust of chills ran down his spin, making him physically shiver and almost dropped the object completely. He sucked in air, his knees shaking. When he let out the breath, he was baffled to see visible evidence of his breathing. What the hell, how cold was it in here? He felt his nose begin to freeze, and he moved towards the thermostat. But the sounds started up again, this time loud enough to know exactly where it was coming from.

Down the hall, to the left. The hallway bathroom. Clyde stared at the door in fear. He hasn’t been in that room since his mothers death. No one has, really. The toilet was ripping from the tiles and the sink and shower was covered in rags and plastic. It would be locked, if it weren’t for it only doing so from the inside. The brunette swallowed his fears, whoever snuck into his house was definitely asking for it now. That room is off limits to everyone. And Clyde was going to show them why.

Each step made him colder, made his heart beat faster. When he got to the door, the whispering became louder. His muscles twitched at the noise of a woman, sounding like she was in pain. Maybe a homeless lady who was hyped up on drugs. Clyde heard about that happening to other people. He gripped his bat tighter, and tried his hardest to speak with the most intimidating tone he could muster, “You’re caught. Whoever’s in there can come out now. Or else I’m going to force you out.”

For a moment, there was nothing. Clyde thought he’d have to fight someone tonight. But just as his hand wrapped around the door handle, the softest, most familiar voice reached his ears, calling his name. He dropped his bat instantly, eyes wide and heart stopping.

“Clyde... Clyde, baby...”

The momentary shock fell through, Clyde was angry. How dare someone come in here and impersonate his dead mother. He practically punched the door open, steam coming out of his ears in pure rage, “How dare—“ he stopped, the feeling of coldness consuming his entire body instantly. It was practically an freezer in here! But most important, Clyde saw nothing. The voice was gone.

He walked in the bathroom bravely, looking around in every corner... what was going on? Clyde crosses his arms to keep himself warm. Whatever it was making that noise, it’s gone completely now. He didn’t hear anything else.

Choosing to believe he’s going crazy and not about to be murder, Clyde walked towards the door. He reached for the knob, but it wouldn’t turn. Trying with all his might, he yanked and jingled it to free himself. What the hell? It was like someone was holding the other side. Buff doesn’t have thumbs!

“Hey!” Clyde banged on the door, causing the walls to rattle, “When I get out of here I’m kicking some ass!” Fucking robbers! Just take stuff and leave!

“Sweetheart,”

Clyde stopped mid bang. No no, that time it was too clear. It was right behind him. There’s no way anyone could fake that. Face going pale, he turned, slowly, breathing hard and not at all.

There she was. The face he thought about so often. The face he looked at every time he used his computer. His mom stood at the height Clyde remembered her at, only he was much taller than her now. Her hair was perfect, not a single strand out of place, her skin soft looking, arms looking inviting and warm. Clyde pressed himself against the door, trying to keep his balance. He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. His mom smiled at him, which made his breath get caught in his throat.

“Your father is trying his best. He’s moving on.”

“Mom,” Clyde’s eyes went red, a cough like sound escaping his throat. It felt tight. He slid down the door, giving up on standing. Betsy took steps forward, and before he knew it she was sitting in front of him, graceful and lady like. Clyde reached forward with a shaking hand. She took it in here and gave him a squeeze.

She felt so real.

“It’s going to be okay, ducky,” Betsy reached forward with her other hand to cup Clyde’s now tear filled cheek, “you and your father don’t have to get along. I’m sorry I’m not here to keep the peace.”

Clyde breathed in rigged breathes, the tears nonstop. He could barely see, but she was so clear. So bright, and lively, and mom like, “M-Mo-om—“

“Sh, sh,” Betsy smiled wider, her own eyes looking a bit puffy, “sometimes life is like this. You need to be yourself, plum. Love yourself, and whoever you want. Your dumb dad can’t control you, and will probably never understand. But he is grieving as well. Do not mistake his selfishness with apathy.”

Clyde threw himself at her, wrapping his arms around her as tightly as he could. He didn’t know how this was happening, but he won’t waste a second figuring it out. He needed her. He missed her. He cried in her shoulder as she embraced him back. He called for her so many times.

“I love you, my baby boy.”

Clyde squeezed, but he didn’t feel her anymore. He opened his eyes painfully, looking around. He was hugging nothing. The room was a normal temperature now, and his clothes were wet from his face. He sniffed, leaned back and continued to cry.

Why did life have to fuck him over like this.

[andromytta]

What’s a Snookie?

SPN Rare Ship CC: Round 20 | andromytta vs. @inter-ruptingmoose

Prompt: Ice Cream Cones

Ship: Claire Novak/Kevin Tran

Word Count: 1631

No Archive Warnings Apply. Tags: 

Fluff and Humor

Snookie may be OOC

fanboy dean

boardw

Summary:  Two families go on vacation to celebrate getting into Princeton. Two soon to be Ivy Leaguers realize they have a common passion.

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15498963

Written for @spngenrebingo  Square Filled:  Free Fluff

Claire Winchester-Novak was going to have the greatest two weeks of her life.  Her dads were taking her and her best friend, Alex Hanscomb-Mills, to the Jersey Shore to celebrate her getting a full ride to Princeton.  It also worked out well for Alex’s moms, who were in Europe taking a second honeymoon.  Claire couldn’t think of a better way to spend the time between high school and college than with her favorite people in the world.

Three days into their trip, the four of them were walking along the boardwalk, as they had done the days previous.  Claire and Dean were in the middle, with Castiel next to Dean and Alex next to Claire. Claire suddenly looks up at her dad and says, “Hey!  Do you think we’ll be blessed with a Snookie sighting?”

“What’s a Snookie?” Castiel and Alex asked simultaneously.

Dean and Claire shared a love of trash TV that the others just didn’t get.  Dr. Sexy, MD and Jersey Shore were their favorites to binge watch, and they were both fans of Snookie.  When the reality show star had a guest role on Dr. Sexy, they wouldn’t stop talking about it for days.  Clearly no one was paying attention.

“Actually, Kiddo,” Dean began as he pulled something up on his phone and held it up to her, “we are definitely getting a Snookie sighting today, and an autograph.”

Claire excitedly grabbed his phone out of his hand as she read the screen.  “She’s doing a book signing?  Here?  At the boardwalk?  And you’re taking me?  You are the best dad ever!”  She stood on tiptoes to kiss his cheek before handing his phone back.

“Hey, what am I, chopped liver?” Castiel asked from the other side of his husband.

“Ok, fine, you’re an awesome dad too,” Claire replied and kissed his cheek as well.

“Ugh.  I think I’m going to puke!” Alex announced from Claire’s other side.

“Hey, just because Jody and Donna dumped you with us instead of taking you Europe is no reason to rain on our happy family parade, young lady,” Dean quipped.

Alex dropped her head in her hand and groaned.  “Why do I even know you people?”

Claire slung an arm around her best friend’s shoulders.  “Because you love me, and you know I come with dork dad baggage.”

“Hey, I thought we were awesome!” Dean protested.

Claire shrugged.  “I’m a teenaged girl.  My affections are fickle.”

“Yeah, yeah.  Once I get you to Snookie, I’ll be awesome again.”

“It’s possible.”

***

Elsewhere on the boardwalk, Kevin Tran and his mother Linda were also taking a holiday to celebrate his own full ride to Princeton.  Kevin was currently pleading with his mom to take him to the aforementioned bookstore.

“I can’t believe with your limited exposure to television for one hour a week, you spent it watching trash television!  What else did you watch?  That horribly inaccurate Dr. Sexy, MD?  You could have been watching National Geographic.”

“Mo-om!  I have to rest my brain somehow!  Relaxation is just as important for neurological development as study is.  Man cannot live on caviar alone!”

“Ok, fine, we’ll go see this Snookie.  You did work hard all through high school, and you’ll be working even harder once you start college.  I suppose you deserve your hobbies.”

“Great!  Let’s go!”  Kevin practically dragged his mom down the boardwalk towards the bookstore.

They made short work of their journey, and soon Kevin found himself standing in line to meet the reality star of his dreams.  His mother was standing off to the side, trying to look stern, but failing miserably, her son’s joy bringing a smile to her face.  Kevin was bouncing on the balls of his feet and trying to see the autograph table over the crowd, paying no mind to the line forming behind him.

Claire and Dean arrived around the same time, standing in line while Castiel and Alex stood off to the other side, rolling their eyes fondly.  Claire had her back to the person in front of her as she was animatedly talking to Dean about their favorite Snookie moments.  “Remember when she was on Dr. Sexy and she played a ghost, but being transparent didn’t take away from her sassiness and she was like…” Claire was gesturing wildly and didn’t notice when she took a step back and ran right into the back of Kevin Tran.

“Hey, watch it…” Kevin started just as Claire turned around to apologize.

“Oh, I’m so sorry…” The words trailed off as their eyes locked, blue to brown.  Claire was the first to break the silence.  “Um, hi.  I’m Claire.” She offered her hand to him to shake.

He gulped and accepted the proffered hand.  “Kevin, uh, my name…that’s my name.”

Claire smiled brightly at him.  “Nice to meet you, Kevin.”

Dean not-so-subtly pulled their still clasped hands apart.  “I’m Claire’s Dad.  Nice to meet you,” he grumped as he shook hands with the stunned boy.

“Um…hi Claire’s Dad…” Panic started to fill his chocolate eyes as Dean continued to shake his hand aggressively.

“Dad, stop,” Claire ordered, removing his hand and pushing him back.

As the line crept forward, Claire engaged in small talk with the cute boy in front of her, much to Dean’s dismay.  He tried to join the conversation multiple times, but backed off when Claire scowled at him, so he resigned himself to standing behind her and pouting.  He wasn’t able to engage his daughter’s attention again until they were at the autograph table.

Claire was first.  “Oh my God.  You’re amazing, I love you so much.  You were my favorite on Dancing With the Stars,” Claire gushed as her book was signed.  “My dad brought me because I got into Princeton,” she continued on.  Snookie signed her book “Congrats on the Ivy League. Love, Nicole.”  Claire stared at her book as she was waiting for Dean.

“Uh, hi, um, Nicole. You’re so pretty,” he stammered awkwardly as he presented his own copy of her book.

Claire interrupted. “That’s my dad.  Sorry he’s such an old skeezer.”

“I dunno, he’s kinda cute,” she replied as she started to sign.  “You got a name, Daddio?”

“Dean.  My name’s Dean.”

She finished signing and handed his book back.  “Here you go, Hot Stuff.”  She winked at him as he clutched the book to his chest and backed away.

Dean was so stunned by his interaction that he didn’t even notice when Claire wandered off with Kevin. In a daze, he found where Castiel and Alex had been waiting for them.  “Snookie thinks I’m cute,” he said to Castiel.

“Well, that makes one of us,” his husband replied dryly.

“Shut up, you love me.”

“You’re lucky I do,” Cas said as he looked around for their daughter.  “Dean, where’s Claire?”

Alex chuckled as she spoke up.  “Over there with that cute boy she bumped into in the line.”  She pointed to where the two were ducking out the door.  “Oh great, now I’m stuck with the Dork Dads.”

***

Claire giggled as she and Kevin ducked out of the store, ditching their parents.  “Hmmm, I guess I should feel bad stranding Alex with my dads,” she said as they made their way down the boardwalk.

“Alex?  Is that your boyfriend?” Kevin asked nervously.

“No, Alex is a girl,” Claire replied vaguely.

“Oh, so your girlfriend?”

“Haha.  No, just my best friend.  More like a sister.  My girlfriend and I broke up after her mom died and she had to move away.”

“So, you’re single?” Kevin fished for information.

“Yep.  You?”

“Uh, yeah.  Ever since my girlfriend went crazy and slit her roommate’s throat.  I’m pretty sure she got possessed by a demon.”

“Wow.  Creepy.  So, what do you say we go get some ice cream?”  Claire’s ability to gloss over the most uncomfortable situation with food was surely a habit she picked up from Dean.

“Oh, uh, ok.  Sure.”

They walked to a little ice cream stand a few blocks away from the bookstore.  Claire ordered the “Napoleon,” a giant waffle cone filled with five scoops of whatever flavors she wanted.  Kevin paid, even though he didn’t get anything but water.  They sat at a nearby bench and when Kevin tried to dip a spoon into Claire’s cone, she pulled it away.  

“Dude!  If you wanted ice cream, you should have ordered some!”

“But, I thought you were going to share.  Especially when you asked me what kind of ice cream to get.”

“I was looking for a suggestion, not offering you my treat.”

“Rude!  I bought it!” Kevin couldn’t help but laugh.

“Ok, fine.  You can have a bite.  One bite, from this layer.”  She pointed at the third scoop down, a blue one with multicolored bits throughout.

“Awesome, bubblegum. I always wanted to try that flavor.” Kevin helped himself to a hearty spoonful of the confection.

“Hey, not so much!” Claire protested with a laugh.

Kevin grinned at her and went in for another bite.  “So, Claire, what would you say if I asked you out for dinner and movie?”

“I’d ask what’s for dinner and what movie?”

“Hmmm….” Kevin made a show of thinking deeply.  “Burgers and the new Marvel film?”

“Make it Star Wars or no deal.”

“Done.  Saturday night?”

“Done.  We’re staying at the Palms, room 210.  Pick me up at 7?”

“Hey, so are we. 310.”

Claire looked at him, shy for the first time.  “We could walk back together?”

“Ok.”  Kevin stood up and reached for her hand.  

She let him pull her up and they were met with three pairs of stern parent eyes: blue, green, and brown. Alex stood off to the side with her arms crossed over her chest.  “Busted,” she chuckled at them.

[newathensrp]

OOC Information

Name: Lest

Age: 19

Pronouns: he/him

Timezone: EST

IC Information

Name: Aodhan Ward

Age/Years At Camp: 20 yrs old, has been coming since he was 15

Pronouns: he/him

God: Apollo

Powers: Audiokinesis - In addition to being able to easily pick up new instruments, he has an ability to put emotions and other feelings into music he plays. for example, he could play a note that gives a positive feel those who hear it that could be interpreted as a yes or positive response to something, or a handful of notes to portray being angry. While the feelings he puts into his music doesn't necessarily inflict that feeling onto listeners (though it can if he has the intent to and puts the energy into it, but it’s much more draining then just portraying a feeling.), it does add another guaranteed emotional layer to music being able to make happy songs inflict a sad feeling and vise versa. His instrument of choice is the irish bouzouki, which he carries on him at all times. Biokinesis - like most of his siblings, Aodhan can heal with his voice, however it's rarely used because he is selectively mute. He has tried to re-purpose this power to work with instruments with no avail. Misc - surprisingly athletic, and while he's skilled in many games he has terrible luck that usually result in him tripping or having his chances ruined somehow. Unlucky - Aodhan is plagued with terrible luck. He tends to carry good luck charms with him in an attempt to negate it and is willing to buy into pretty outlandish stuff in the name of a good luck charm. Selective muteness - not particularly a power, but an important aspect of himself. It stems from psychological problems and not a physical issue, so it can’t be fixed with ambrosia. He can speak to himself when he’s alone, or when he’s with people he feels close to and safe with. He can also sometimes make small humming sounds depending on how he feels in a specific situation.

Personality: Outwardly, Aodhan tries to be polite and easy to get along with, and while that isn’t necessarily a false front, his inability to speak most of the time ends up making him keep most of his thoughts to himself since he typically isn’t around anyone who knows ASL so he’d rather act easy to get along with to avoid tough situations where he’d have to explain himself. he’s a very frank person and isn’t he type to lie to keep someone else happy and he tends to give his opinion whether it’s wanted or not. He’s very expressive with his face and body language to make up for not being able to express himself with words most of the time. He gets bored easily but feels guilty admitting it so he tries not to show it but isn’t very good at it. He feels a drive, pretty much conditioned into him, to fit in with people around him and he’ll sometimes catch himself making slight and subtle changes to himself to fit in easier with whatever group he’s with. Though he tries to ignore it most of the time, the want to conform does win over sometimes so he can sometimes come off as fake or superficial to people. While it’s something he does pretty much unconsciously without realizing it, it’s something he hates doing and if he realizes he’s doing it it can throw off his mood for the entire day. Because of flip-flopping between what the “right” way to act is growing up, he doesn’t always have a solid sense of self and often relies on the way his peers act and follows their lead. When he’s alone he tends to be the most genuine and while he tries to be that around other people, it tends to get lost. As a genuine person, he’s very straightforward and while he’s definitely the type to complain about it later, he’ll put up with pretty much anything. Whiny tweens? He can suck it up and babysit them for the day. Annoying cabinmates? He’ll live, but just know he’ll complain about it pretty harshly later. He can be pretty snarky but typically keeps it to himself. He can be pretty lackadaisical in nature and doesn’t plan for the future, but just kind of takes whatever comes at him. He is actually very talkative when given the chance to be, but is content being in the background of most conversations and is fine going days without talking to anyone. He gets anxious in crowded places and around a lot of people, especially if he doesn’t know them well. He’s very self-reliant and doesn’t like or feel the need to rely on anyone else. He’s the type to not believe anything until he’s seen it himself. He’s very much a morning person. Also he’s a libra sun sagittarius moon if that says anything.

Appearance: short strawberry blonde curls frame a slightly tanned face littered with freckles. He has a very straight nose that's a bit on the larger side, and while he has a very diamond face shape, he doesn't have particularly strong features. His right eye is light blue and his left eye is a gold-yellow color. he has a scar on the right side of his lips and continuing down over his chin. His ears are on the larger side. While he is of irish descent, he was raised in the US and doesn't have an accent for the most part, but it can be heard in some words from being around his mother at home who does have a strong accent. He carries his bouzouki with him at all times, usually strapped to his back similar to a guitar. He has a bit of an athletic look and he doesn’t look particular built or muscular but he’s a far cry but being lanky. He likes loose and baggy clothes and favors more casual looks. He prefers comfort over style.

History: Aodhan was raised believing that he was nothing out of the ordinary. His mother, Cait, didn't want him to know about his father or about any powers he may have had. In their small midwest suburban town and to his mother, conformity was everything. When she remarried when Aodhan was 6, all the couple wanted was a normal family and a normal life and Cait figured that as long as she kept him away from his greek heritage and didn't tell him about his powers she would be able to have the normal life she craved, going to PTA meetings and baking muffins for the local churches bake sale. She had her way for 6 years before things started deviating from her dream of a white picket fence. She may have loved her new husband, but her new husband did not like Aodhan. He was always too loud, too energetic, too something. Cait was so wrapped up in her love and drive to fit in that she didn't notice, or perhaps chose not to. At such a young age the way he dealt with it was that he slowly stopped speaking, eventually dwindling to barely being able to speak at all. Most of the time, he was able to speak around his mother. He began learning ASL through a program at school and his parents were encouraged to learn on their own time, but they never did. There was always something, they were too busy to, they didn’t have time, they didn’t think his bout of muteness would last. When he was 10 years old and only able to speak when he was alone with his mother or with the few close friends he had, he begged Cait to let him pick up an instrument as a means of expressing himself. While she had tried to keep Aodhan away from instruments, fearful that they could trigger some power within him, she felt guilty and blamed herself for his selective muteness so she lent him his grandfather's irish bouzouki. She regretted her decision when within weeks he was playing it like he’d been playing it all his life, but she didn’t have the heart to take it away from him. The same year his mother and stepfather had a baby together. Aodhan adored his baby brother and especially loved to play music for him! He was able to speak around his brother. Aodhans earliest use of his powers was playing music to calm his brother down when he started crying. Aodhan didn’t completely understand what he was doing or how he was doing it, but he knew that he just had a way of playing music that would make his baby brother laugh. He proudly showed it to his mother one day, and she banned him from playing music for his brother. After that, his mother and stepfather began to heavily discourage him playing instruments and their negativity towards his music did make him drop the bouzouki for a time. He’d play along, he thought. He’d try to be the perfect son, despite the fact he couldn’t talk he did everything to be enough for them. Normal enough. Good enough. It worked for a few years, until he was 15. He had a friend over who found his bouzouki abandoned in the back of his closet and asked him about it. He told them he used to play it and told them about he used to play a certain way and it would make his brother stop crying, but his parents told him to stop playing when they found out. They asked him if he could play something to relieve their stress from schoolwork, half as a joke but aodhan said he’d give it a try since his parents weren’t home to hear. It turned out that there was a big upside to making sure that aodhan never used his powers or knew about his divine heritage all these years: he was almost completely off the radar from monsters. Keyword is almost. When Aodhan hard the scream of his little brother downstairs and ran downstairs, the last thing he expected to see was a monster ripping apart his kitchen. His first instinct was to keep his brother safe and ran in without thinking to pull his brother out of harm's way, only to put himself in more danger, earning him a scar down from his lip to the bottom of his chin that he would later explain away to people as “he fell”. They were lucky, very lucky. It was almost as if all the luck Aodhan had to use over the course of his life was used right then and there and he would never be lucky again. A Satyr who had been tailing the monster to find the demigod it was hunting swooped in at the last second and drove the monster off. Aodhan was sure that the boredom from living in the most generic town on the planet was really getting to him when he stood in the doorway of his kitchen, watching as a satyr yelled profanities after a monster out the back door. Turns out, it was much more than just boredom. After being left alone for nearly 15 years, the use of his powers was starting to attract monsters. Unlucky for him, this particular satyr didn’t speak ASL. after a back and forth attempt at signing and frantically looking for a pen and something to write on, Aodhan was left wondering if the leftovers he had earlier had gone bad something. Him, the son of the god apollo? No way, he thought. “That’s the stupidest thing i've ever heard. Im not gonna believe some fuckin goat man in my - there's a goat man in my kitchen. Either im losing my mind of maybe he isn’t spouting bullshit.” When Cait got home she realized she couldn’t hide it any longer and confessed the truth, Aodhan was the son of Apollo and she’d kept it and his powers a secret all these years. After a teary confession from Cait, Aodhan decided to go with the satyr back to camp half blood and new athens. After a lifetime of conformity and doing everything he could to be as normal as possible, he hoped that maybe he could finally catch a break. He typically stays at camp/new athens year-round but occasionally visits his family, but his relationship with his mother and stepfather have never been the same since the secret of his father's identity came out, but he is still close with his brother.