#the art is usually made by the sibling who escaped (or more or less tried to heal) and what that means if you’re not that sibling

[genhernandez]

Hey, look! It's GENEVIEVE HERNANDEZ. Did you know they WORK as a LAWYER at LEGAL LIGHTHOUSE ? I guess they're from NEW YORK CITY, NEW YORK and have been in town for TWELVE MONTHS , living in HAWTHORNE HIDEAWAY. I also heard they're a little HARDHEADED, but also very GRACEFUL which definitely makes sense.

Born in the "city that never sleeps" to District Attorney Andre Hamilton and renowned stage actress, Eileen Debose, there was no doubt in the world that their little Genevieve would grow up to be anything less than 'ordinary'. Contrary to the stereotype place on those living in the dual-arenas of politics and the arts, Genevieve couldn't have asked for a more picture-perfect childhood. With no other siblings in tow, she was very easily the apple of her parents' eyes, especially her father's who always saw her as his perfect equal. The pair were inseparable, always going on trips together and sharing too many inside jokes, much to the amusement of the rest of the family.

It wasn't until Andre was let go from his esteemed position, after a string of scandals and allegations, that things weren't as idyllic as they first appeared. Turning to the only solace he could find; a bottle of aged whiskey or two, the Hamilton patriarch was a shadow of his former, doting self. The vocal battles between Genevieve's parents seemed to become a part of their almost daily routine. The fights always ended the same — with her father, regretting the venom in his words and promising to be better and her mother, tired and weary, vowing to leave. Months passed until it wasn't hard for the littlest Hamilton to feel like the loneliest girl in the world, immediately jumping into her studies as a means to escape.

College gave her a means to both hide away from the world and learn about it. She would spend most of her collegiate hours stalking the library's vast, spreading shelves in the hopes of somehow outdoing her father's legacy as well as dulling the darkness his downfall had caused. It was on a dreary Tuesday afternoon and on her usual quest, Genevieve tripped and fell, quite literally, head over heels for someone who looked unusually out of place amongst the law books of Honoré and Dickens. Shaking hands, he introduced himself as Cristian Hernandez.

With his cool, calm exterior, Genevieve was immediately entranced by his surprisingly gentle demeanour. To her, his outward features juxtaposed those inside, to her, he was exactly what she needed. Piece by piece, he collected her, he made her see her worth and seemed to love every inch of her and they were intoxicatingly happy. Naturally with this new and exciting plans for the happy couple; marriage, babies, careers. Months passed before the young moved into a small, shoebox-sized apartment, Genevieve could make peace with her decision of falling so hard and fast in love and she had to quickly as without a word as another wrench would be thrown into the works.

Sure enough, there came a call from her mother, her voice barely above a whisper and her tone mournful. It was her father. Despite his best efforts to make amends and cut back on the drinking for his family, it was his heart that finally betrayed the rest of his body and her mother found him in his favourite armchair, having passed away in his sleep.

Since her father's funeral, it seemed as if her life had changed forever. She had never felt alone yet so together with her family and Cristian by her side. They'd come through so much together, good and bad, and she was sure he was 'the One'. So it wasn't much of a surprise to anyone when wedding bells sounded and she could finally take his last name.

Before arriving in the picture-perfect town, Genevieve and Cristian had tried everything to finally achieve their goal of becoming parents and raising a family of their own, with no success until the couple decided to take things easier and not think about it for a little while. Sure enough, those little pink lines gave them everything they could possibly imagine and they were soon blessed with a beautiful baby boy, Samuel. Four years later, and completely surprised once again they were lucky enough to become parents again to another son, little Marcelino.

With her career flourishing and her family thriving, Genevieve couldn't ask for a happier, more picturesque town for her boys to grow up in. Though she can't mistake the feeling of wanting to expand their brood a little further, perhaps with a little girl like herself, who is the apple of her father's eye.

[anneonomus]

would you rather by phoebe bridgers is NOT THERAPY get help 🤣

[astaroth1357]

Demigod MC Series: Athena

So. I have to deal with the virgin goddesses… By mythos, there really shouldn't ever be children of Artemis, Hestia, or Athena (yes, Athena was a virgin goddess). PJ got past that by making it canon that Annabeth and her siblings were born from cracking open Athena's skull (yes, that's also more or less the canon explanation). They gloss over it real quick but I remember, Rick. I've always remembered and that mental image has haunted me for years...

I can't, in good conscience, ignore the history around Athena's worship (call it an academic restraint) but I REFUSE to do the skull thing. So, since I make the rules here, I'm going with magic adoption. They still get magic powers, they're just more human than demigod. Cool? Cool.

Demigod MC Series: Intro, Aphrodite, Hermes, Hades, Dionysus, Demeter, Athena

Lucifer

The human that popped out of the portal seemed to have enough sense not to attack everyone in the room for a change, but even Lucifer could tell that was more of a strategic choice than for lack of ability...

Their very existence was highly unusual… and quite worrisome. He wasn't even aware Athena could have "children" of her own, but apparently she had been taking in some particularly bright humans to raise and train like her own...

Unbeknownst to him, a surprising amount of human scholars, diplomats, and generals have her to thank for their trade… and that alone should speak to the level of intrigue at play here. 

Was this an accident or Athena's attempt to plant an Olympian spy in the Devildom too…? Either way, he didn't trust them from the get go…

Look, Lucifer isn’t stupid. Athena is a goddess of Wisdom and War and war happens on more than just the battlefield… 

Since they've shown up records have been going missing, official documents keep getting misplaced, and he swears that there's some kind of bug in the student council room...!

It's infuriating watching the MC suck up to Diavolo when he's almost certain that they're running their own agenda behind the scenes! And he can't prove any of it!! They cover their tracks too well!

Lucifer has one of those corkboards covered in newspapers and string in a secret wing of the Castle - 100% dedicated to just tracking the MC's activities…. The longer they're there, the more obsessed he becomes...

He swears between Simeon, Solomon, and MC he feels like a shepherd wondering why the sheep are growling… The Devildom has never been in more danger than it is right now... Send help.

Mammon

To be honest, he kind of thought that they were just going to be Satan 2.0 but that's not really true.

They're more than just a book sponge! Though they do read, like a lot. Let’s just say from one schemer to another… Game recognizes Game.

They come up with plans and ideas soooo fast, it’s insane! Honestly, there are times where he has a new money-making plot and he just brings it to the MC first to run it over. 

Nine times out of ten, not only do they sniff out any problems but they have a solution for him in a matter of minutes! His scheme game has been on point since they’ve shown up!!

They’re also even better tutoring than Satan is, so he’s even managed to get a couple A’s for the first time in his life! Lucifer actually told him he was proud (which he secretly recorded and now uses as a ringtone much to his brother’s regret...)

So yeah, he likes them... buuut that doesn’t keep him from thinking they act a little weird sometimes... 

Mammon: *points to a unused tower close to the RAD building* Over there is the Tower of Sorrow. We use it for storage.

MC: Ah. Interesting… *starts writing in a notebook, muttering* It may need a few minor tweaks but the location is defensible...

Mammon: *stops* Ya say somethin’?

MC: *looks back up* Nope! Say, you’ve been to the Castle a lot haven’t you? Do you know any good ways in?

Mammon: Uhm… Why do ya want to know that…? *starts looking around for Lucifer*

MC: In case of emergencies. I like being prepared. 🙂

Mammon: Look, I don’t know what Lucifer might’a told ya…

MC: I’ll pay you a thousand Grimm for it.

Mammon: Well shit, ya want those maps with or without color?

... Yeeeah, that’s pretty weird… But it’s probably fine. I mean, as long as they keep giving him money, who’s he to complain? 🤷‍♀️

Leviathan

Also thought that they’d be a lot more like Satan but was pleasantly surprised that they were into more than books.

What else did they like exactly? Military strategy!!

It’s been a looong time since he’s been able to talk to someone who’s actually interested in all the battles he’s fought, both in the Celestial Realm and the Devildom, and their curiosity is kind of flattering...! Not a lot of people take his strategic prowess all that seriously anymore...

Plus, they are the BEST partner to have any turn-based strategy game. Hands down. He once got stuck on a level of D-COM for weeks until the MC walked in and mopped the floor with the AI!! They have a serious head for probability and tactics.

The House once made the mistake of letting these two be on the same team during a Hell Game and they absolutely demolished the competition. Mammon didn’t even get a single shot off before half his team was lost to a rigged paint grenade… It took a whole day to clean up… 

However, Levi’s also noticed some odd things about the human… He likes that they’re interested in his past but maybe they’re a little… too interested?

Levi: -and that’s how we defeated the Four Horsemen before they escaped from Purgatory. 

MC: Wow, Levi that’s seriously impressive!! *furiously scribbling on a notebook*

Levi: Well t-thanks… 😅 But, uhm... are you writing that down…?

MC: Hm? Oh no, just doodling. *they lift up the notebook to show a bunch of cute little sketches on the page… and not the magic-based invisible ink all over them…*

Levi: Oh you draw too? Can you do fanart???

MC: Eh, sometimes. But say Levi, can you tell me about your naval ranks again? I’m still really curious… *gets the pen ready again with a smile*

Satan

Oh, it's been a long game of cat-and-mouse between these two… and unfortunately, it’s been pretty addicting too.

He honestly had every intention of tricking the human into making a huge mess do he could bother Lucifer, but at every turn they proved just a hair too clever for him...

He once gave them a cursed book to “lend” to Lucifer, but they saw through it the moment they touched it and lifted the spell before handing it over.

He rigged a podium to spray glitter during one of Lucifer's speeches but the MC disconnected the trigger mic before he even got on stage. It was pretty dang frustrating...

At one point he got so desperate that, just as a test, he tried to trap them in the House's Music Room. Fortunately for them, it only took a few minutes to work out an escape. They even passed by him in the hallway with a wink!

It's confounding! It's infuriating!! 

...and it's so damn sexy... He should be furious but he’s just in awe!!

Add on that they know their art, literature, and multiple different crafts thanks to the tutelage of their adopted mother and that’s it. He’s finished. This boy is in love.

Truthfully though, a part of him is 90% sure that they’re also gathering state secrets… Like, they’re watching Barbs and Diavolo far too close for comfort - but he just can't bring himself to care. 🤷‍♀️

The MC could walk into his room one day and say, "Hey, do you want to help overthrow the monarchy with me?" and he dreads it because deep down he knows that he wouldn’t say no…

Take some notes, kids. Some bad influences get you to drink or do drugs. Others pull you into a centuries long conspiracy to destabilize and topple rival realms from within… But he has fallen for their brain hard. Devil help them all…

Asmodeus 

They’re pretty clever, he’ll give them that, but uh… Are they a little off to anybody else?

Asmo is a charmer by birthright so he has a bit of nose for when someone’s just a liiittttle too nice… Not much of a nose mind you, because he can be thrown off by compliments himself, but enough to think that the MC might be a little too… “kind” for their own good...

First off, who wants to spend that much time with Levi?? They don’t even seem that interested in anime! They just keeping asking him for old war stories…

Then all the sucking up they do to Diavolo and Barbatos? Look, he gets it. Diavolo is a delicious piece of man-hunk and his butler could give him a lesson or two in sweet-talk (and he has), but they seem to be just a little too… nosy.

Of course, Asmo’s suspicions disappear pretty quickly after they start to spoil him with spa nights and beauty secrets they picked up from “casual research” into the subject.

And you know, get a little Demonus in Asmo and start massaging his back? Oh, sweetie he’ll sing like a bird!! … with gossip. Singing with gossip.

Asmo: So I’ve heard that Lucifer has been spending more time at RAD than usual… His whole club is talking about it, they think he’s meeting with some witch!

MC: Hm, is that so? *works on a knot near his shoulder blades* What do you think?

Asmo: Ooh~! Right there, MC! *purrs and lays his head on his arms* Well come on, this is Lucifer we’re talking about! I’m sure he’s just working.

Asmo: Hmm... though come to think of it, I think I heard him asking Barbatos for the spare keys to the Tower of Sorrow…

MC: Oh really? Huh. *works out the knot and gets up* I just remembered that I left some papers with Satan... I’ll be right back.

Asmo: You’re going already??

MC: *waves him off quickly* I’ll be right back, Asmo. *hurries out the door to do totally on-the-up-and-up things… surely*

Beelzebub 

Honestly he doesn't like this one… But not for the reasons you'd expect.

He agrees with everyone else that they seem a little shady, but Solomon and Simeon are too so it's not like that's anything new... 🤷‍♀️

No, no. He dislikes them because they're the person who FINALLY figured out how to keep him from eating all the food in the kitchen!!

Turns out that the trick was to put a teleportation charm on the fridge door that would send all the food away if it’s opened after a certain time of night… 

And where does it go? The Purgatory Hall fridge. And where does the Purgatory Hall food go…? The HoL fridge…

It doesn’t sound so bad until you remember that it means half of their fridge is now Solomon’s leftovers…. 🤢

After they put the same kind of spell on the pantry, it was all over… He couldn't get midnight snacks from the House anymore… Everything was contaminated by Solomon…

The MC is a nice enough person, he doesn’t have a lot of complaints about them, but he wants them to leave. Now. This is inexcusable… He’s so hungry… and he doesn’t want to die by “goulash” or whatever Solomon calls his latest culinary catastrophe… He’s still too young for death… 😓

Belphegor 

In a way, he absolutely could not have asked for a better person to help him get out of that attic.

… In another way, he got one of the worst possible people to try and kill... Like. They saw through his scheme sooo fast…

How was he supposed to know that the human had training in body language and sniffing out lies???

Getting the door open was a piece of cake for them. They knew enough magic to undo the seals and just rummaged around Lucifer's stuff long enough to find the key to the door. He could not have found a more competent individual for a break out, really.

It’s just… well he didn’t expect to go from locked in a room like a prisoner to tied up in enchanted rope, still like a prisoner but now mobile. 😑 

They even used his own hug ruse against him! They caught his wrists when they got close and tied him up before he could shake them off...

Admittedly, it wasn't exactly the best look for them either - what with walking Belphegor downstairs to the others like a one-man-prison-caravan but they're as silver-tongued as they are sly so they talked their way out of it beautifully… 

And like hell was he going to trust them after that!! And not even Beel liked them so something had to be up...

Well, you want a detective? Look no farther than Belphie (no seriously, it’s in the canon). He can put things together pretty fast when he puts his mind to it and watching the MC for a while gave him enough proof to work off of...

He always knew that, humans were bad news and the MC just proved it to him all over again. They are bad news, bad bad news and they’re going to-!

Overthrow… Diavolo…? Is that what he is getting from them…? Huh…

Wait a second, MC. You might just have him interested… 😏

[softgaycontent]

Autistic Amity Analysis:

(Spoilers up to S2E2 Escaping Expulsion)

CW for: referenced child abuse, ableism

Good post here as well on Amity being Autistic. I may touch on some of the same points because the source material is the same.

Alador

Amity's father, Alador, is fairly overtly autistic. It runs in families.

Justifications real quick because he doesn't mask like Amity so it is easier to point to clear signs:

Fairly non-expressive, holding the same half-lidded expression that Amity does as default

Extremely interested in animals/creatures, to the point of being distracted by them in the middle of conversations

Unbrushed Hair / lack of attention to or care for grooming, even at important functions or for family portraits

Very intelligent / creative / technical (a successful inventor)

His body language and the way he holds his hands over one-another after Odalia crushes the bug-thing

Unsure if this is Odalia knowing her husband well or her being very rude (probably both), but she is constantly doing things like bringing him back on track or gently moving him away as they're leaving the school. He does look kind of annoyed when she reaches inside his coat for their business card though.

NOTE: I think if Odalia had any real influence over Alador at all, she would have at least made him tidy up for the family portrait (he has unbrushed hair, goggles, and abomination goop on him). She either truly respects him for who he is or can't make him do anything.

Abuse

Odalia seems genuinely fond of her husband. She sees him as her equal, and expects others to respect him as well (introducing him as the greatest inventor in the Isles). Unfortunately Amity, as her child, is not given the same room to be herself. She is expected to have all the strengths as her parents, with none of the "weaknesses".

It would not be surprising if Alador struggled growing up autistic and truly believes that teaching Amity to cover it up is better for her. It's unclear how much of her overall abuse is perpetrated by each of her parents, but Alador does seem to be an active (not just passive) participant at least some of the time.

In Lost in Language, the twins justify being cruel to Amity because "she's got to learn", and that as "her family" they are responsible for showing her "tough love". This is clearly something they picked up from growing up in an abusive household, but it may be something they particularly believe about Amity, their weird little sister who doesn't act quite like the other kids, and gets upset too easily.

Amity's necklace may have started as a way for Odalia to remind Amity in public places to make eye contact with people, to stop stimming, or otherwise mask. She has worn it since at least whatever age she is in the flashbacks of Understanding Willow (6-10?).

Special Interest

Amity and Luz both really love the Azura books. Luz is canonically neurodivergent with ADHD, which has some overlaps with ASD.

One of Amity's main forms of expressing herself seems to be in relation to the books. She draws herself as or with the characters often, befriends Luz more easily because of their shared enjoyment of the series, and tries to replicate a scene from tGWA in real life (Thorn Vault).

Emotions

Amity is fairly stoic. She is not super expressive most of the time, and her eyes are often held in the same half-open way her fathers are. Exceptions being when she is very angry or (more rarely) comfortably happy that her eyes open fully and more of her face changes.

Amity taps her hands against her knees when she is excited in Wing it Like Witches, and really tends use her hands to express herself a lot.

Her siblings make fun of her for getting so mad that her whole face goes red, which seems like the sort of reaction you might have if you were taught not to stomp out your anger like you want to, and hold it in instead.

Justice

One symptom of ASD is feeling very passionate about what is fair and what isn't.

Amity is shown consistently to get very angry over fairness. First, when Luz and Willow cheat by pretending that Luz is an abomination (taking Amity's badge), then again when Eda and Lilith cheat in Covention, and finally at the fact that her siblings never get in trouble despite their frequent troublemaking.

This is the thing that drives her to anger more than anything.

She seems visibly mad at her mom while her friends are being expelled in Escaping Expulsion up until Odalia reminds her that she didn't uphold her end of the deal (re: the expo) at which point Amity gives in and looks defeated instead. Seemingly, she accepts that this was her fault and there's nothing she can do.

Comfort

Amity seeks comfort in dark, quiet places. Her favorite place to spend time is a secret little room in the library. In Covention, Amity finds a dark corner to sit in to calm down.

(Arguably the fort that she and Willow built in the flashbacks of Understanding Willow was away from the other campers and out of the sun as well.)

Touch

Amity seems to like being touched (by Luz and Willow) clearly friendly ways, and strongly dislikes being touched at all other times.

Amity's siblings mostly seem to touch her in ways that annoy her in Adventures in the Elements. First on purpose, squishing her in a lean between them both, then possibly on accident, as Edric copies the hair ruffle Eda had just done to Luz. Amity seems to visibly dislike the feeling, and the fact that it messed up her hair.

She also really hates it when Hooty touches her; although most characters acknowledge him as annoying, she really loses it when he touches her again.

When Luz hugs her in Understanding Willow, Amity does not reciprocate, even though she seems to enjoy the gesture. She also reacts noticeably to the fact that Luz is still holding her hand after they arrive back in the owl house.

She seemed to enjoy keeping a close proximity to Willow when they were kids.

Misc

Amity takes Luz literally when she says, "I'm picking up what you're putting down."

Hair

OK this one is purely a bonus headcanon about Amity's undercut. :)

Amity's hair is shown to be rather thick in her concept art, and Emira also seems to have very thick hair, so the reason it is not big and poofy in canon is probably due entirely to her undercut.

A lot of autistic kids have sensory issues around having their hair brushed, which only get worse with large, thick hair which tangles easily.

I like to think that Odalia had a lot of trouble brushing Amity's hair and putting it up into a neat style every day. much less teaching her to do it for herself. Eventually, she gave up and took Amity to get her hair cut, eliminating a lot of the thickness with the undercut, and providing Amity with a hairstyle she could easily manage herself.

Amity loved it, and also really likes running her hands over the short parts when she is by herself.

(While Odalia is too harsh about the way Amity behaves and looks, she will usually actually meet her half-way on sensory accommodations, like comfortable sheets)

[belovvved]

!!Emergency!! Unsafe Housing Situation/No Transportation!!!!Help a Non-Binary Artist achieve relative comfort!!!

I wish that none of this was real, and that I don't need help. I don't even know where to begin. But I'm trying to open up, I can't keep trying to do everything alone.

PLEASE BOOST... if you cannot donate or help me find resources in my city (San Antonio, Texas)

CASHAPP: $citrinebat ZELLE: freedumb210@gmail.com

Any advice or resources will be much appreciated.

I grew up never speaking out because I would always get silenced, my parents are good at manipulating others to believe that they are decent people. I am not welcomed or safe at home.

Basically, I was born to two teenage parents that weren't ready to have children or mature enough to be with each other.

I grew up seeing my mom get abused by my dad verbally, physically, and emotionally. I would always stick up for her, and so the relationship between my father and I has never existed... In fact he hates me for being outspoken, and protective. My mother takes out her stress and abuse on me too. She's tried drowning me when I was 8 and I found out later from my aunt. My mother has Stockholm syndrome, she even went so far as to take a felony for him and has not had a job in years.

It has been my whole life, and I'm the oldest out of 5 including myself. Many times I've tried helping my mom, only to have her hurt me again in some sort of way- by going back to my dad, borrowing money, gambling, drinking etc. She never admits her faults, and plays victim which is something I am not trying to do.

I still cannot believe that this is what has become of the family I romanticized. I've discovered that my parents, and brother are severely mentally ill- my parents take prescription pills that aren't theirs... some of which I do not know completely. My brother has become psychotic and has black-out rages where he hurts someone in the family or breaks things around the house.

In the past I always had to lean on other relatives (now passed) for support or past partners- (which I do not want to do anymore).

I left as soon as I graduated from school in 2018 (Summa Cum Laude). I wanted to pursue going to art school or architecture. But I couldn't due to the fact that my dad sold drugs and his taxes weren't accepted in FASFA. I had to wait until I turn 21 to file independently but even when this came around (Oct.2020) I wasn't prepared in anyway possible to pursue higher education.

-Things in the past were manageable, because I had my Grandma who supported me in everyway possible while she worked two jobs. She took me and my 4 siblings to and from school. While my parents stayed at home sleeping. She did everything she could for us, and then in 2019 she was diagnosed with cancer and died within 3 weeks, inside of the home I am currently living in.

She bought me a car before right before she died- which my mom used whenever she wanted to in order to escape from my dad momentarily. It had 56k miles at first and I never got to drive it until 100k+ miles. By the time I got it back, my mom cracked the windshield and stained the interior. It got repoed after 3 months of me using it because my grandfather left the country in 2020 to pursue his new wife (in her 20's) and his new family. He stopped paying on the car without telling me, and didn't transfer the title to me, so I had no way of preventing anything.

My only source of transportation was taken from me in March 2021. So I lost my job, my car... and I need help because I have to start all over.

I currently live at my Grandma's house where she passed away inside of the living room. The a/c has been broken since last summer (2020) and there is no heat or hot water and I just endured that during the Texas Winter Storm.

Whenever my Grandfather returns from out of the country I will have to find a place to stay but that means making 2-3x the rent and having a job for at least six months. I cannot return home because my brother is a reflection of my abusive father and I DO NOT FEEL SAFE being around him.

My brother has broken a window on me, physically has hurt me more than once. My dad calls me a whore + so many other worse things. My mom borrows money from me and gambles, and drinks. Just uses me to babysit and has made me quit my art internships in Highschool to babysit while she goes out with friends at the bar

I have been trying to sell art, and nudes in order to get a car... so that way I can try having a job. I have facial piercings and tattoos on my hands so everything is difficult.

The only thing I am at fault for is my way of coping. It's hard to foresee a future for yourself when you're living with trauma...

I didn't want to believe that my parent's don't care but after losing my job and car in March 2021, my mom has not since checked up on me or asked if I was okay. In fact has asked me to borrow money, (she usually doesn't pay back) My dad fixes A/C for a living, and has not fixed the A/C for me since last year.

My mental health is starting to take a toll on me lately and I don't want to end up in the Psych ward again..... Luckily I have a few really amazing, supportive, loving friends. But everyone has their own lives and I can't depend on anyone. I wish I could be the person helping them.

I don't want to take from others who cannot give. I want to be able to have transportation, pursue school, and also feel comfortable and safe where I am living. Past partners know where I stay, and so does my abusive brother and I live in fear of them coming over uninvited.

Please help me get to a place where I can truly grow, and flourish. Please help me feel unashamed about speaking up and asking for help. My dreams are to start a nonprofit for domestic violence victims, foster animals, and start or be apart of a printing press for creatives.

I sell art and make music in my freetime. I lost my only support system a little over a year ago and since then it has been super difficult trying to do things on my own, and I'm tired of depending on sexual partners for help (+ experiencing rape/sexual trauma), as a NONBINARY person being perceived as anything less than a soul is painful.

You can support me by commissioning or purchasing art here. Or donating anything will help- everything goes to my phone bill, food. I am on my last $500. I am really worried because lyfts and ubers add up, and I am uncertain of when I can find a job that will hire me due to my self expression.

Thank you for reading.

[whereflowersbloom]

Nursery

The evening light looks orange enough to catch fire through the window. Its such a nice day to start working on the most important room of their home. It’s more than just a room actually, the nursery.  It’s a precious and tangible promise. A promise of a life that would be full of everything a child should have.  A promise of a childhood free of pain or worry or neglect, one that would know unconditional love and attention in abundance. There was a large ivory rug that covered half of the gray hardwood floors, to the white furniture, which consisted of the changing table and dresser. They already had the antique birch and oak crib that belonged to the Wayne family. Pennyworth insisted they kept it.

Inside these mint green walls, no joy would ever be denied to him. Damian would make certain of that. Everything his son desired, every need satisfied, every wish made true. His child would be cared for, tenderly nurtured and assuredly protected. By all means. He would make sure to set consistent rules and limits, keep in mind that conflicts are one way that children first learn about self-control, compromise and cooperation that’s what he had read. They had been expecting Malik for six months and twelve days now. Yes, he was definitely keeping track of the days. He prepared a pregnancy calendar board marked with the ultrasound appointments, prenatal classes, and other details in case of emergency. Reminders. Raven had commented several times he tried too hard, but Damian had this compulsive need to be in control of everything. They were creating their own family together, As a future father Damian wanted everything down to the littlest detail to be perfect.

Was his first son’s arrival anticipated with so much enthusiasm from both Kent and Wayne family, his heart swelled with a familiar warmth. Malik would be loved and probably spoiled by his siblings. Jason was already saying he would teach him shoot accurately without missing a single target, as soon he was able to hold a toy blaster, Dick kept mentioning Mar’i needed a playmate preferably Tamaranean-proof, Tim as usual didn’t show much excitement but the last time there had been a spark of interest in his dark blue eyes when they showed his family the 4K ultrasound video from the last obstetrician’s appointment. Stephanie hoped he liked waffles. Malik would have a very different life. Father...Bruce was still digesting the news of becoming a grandfather. Damian could swear for a second caught the glimpse of an emotional Alfred tearing up tears of joy, the British man promised to be around to help in any way the young couple requested. A new Wayne heir.

He can’t help wondering at times, even under different circumstances. Did someone personally build him a nursery? He knew the obvious answer no. Did his mother think to baby-proof the whole League of Assassins compound? He highly doubted it.

Perhaps this was what fatherhood was about: Staying up at night, thinking incessantly about his son’s life and future, worrying about which school he would attend, if he would practice a sport, maybe basketball like Dick, or take after him, take interest in martial arts and swordsmanship. There was no need to get worked up over numbers for a college fund. Eventually he would be in charge of Wayne Enterprises, thankfully Drake sticked around to manage the overall operations, assist the board meetings, whenever Damian was away from Gotham due to Titans or Batman’s business. Drake indeed proved to be quite clever and capable. His mind went back to his son. Will Malik feel loved? Have absolutely no doubts he was wanted. Damian would be by his side ensuring he did. Silently vowing.

Now if only he could finish assembling the convertible crib. He hasn't tried to throw any items of furniture yet, but he's fraying dangerously close to actually doing it. This fucking manual was useless. Damian was currently siting on the hardwood floor, eyes carefully scanning the sheet of instructions again for the fifth time.

“Don’t tell me you’re still in here.” Raven asked her husband with hands on hips as she entered the room. Her long hair in a loose braid, wearing an oversized shirt and comfortable shorts. His green eyes focused on her round belly. She looked so beautiful with a life growing inside her. Her beauty stabbed at his heart like a great knife The miracle of procreation. A new life. Damian had spend the last two hours in the baby’s nursery, claiming he didn’t need help doing a simple task as building a crib. Not Grayson or Jon. Specifically not Conner Kent.

“I’m not leaving this room until this damn crib is properly assembled!” Damian replied obviously annoyed and frustrated. She could perceive his increasing frustration miles away. A heavy sigh escaped her lips. Dealing with pregnancy hormones and an annoyed husband wasn’t easy.

“We could always ask Clark or Jon for help...” Raven suggested vaguely, violet eyes flickering around the room. It was unlikely that Batman had any experience when it comes to baby furniture. On second thought having two Kryptonians with superhuman strength, surrounded by fragile baby furniture...Idea dismissed.

“Over my dead body.” Damian muttered stubbornly, jaw set like the idea of asking for help is a personal insult.

Raven just shook her head and headed over the dresser and looked at several of the outfits that they already had for little Malik, who recently started kicking her with more force, at first it was just a tiny quiver, Raven admitted it was tremendously exciting when she felt it, like a flutter. Damian was there right next to her, wearing an amazed expression on his face, but then Malik began kicking more in the evening, recurrently, she noticed. He was also an early riser just like his father. She observed that some of the onesies were from some members of the Justice League. There’s was a Aquaman one, Flash, Superman, recalling it was a present from Clark and Jon. She smiled softly as she pulled out a black one with the Batman symbol on it with the words saying 'Future Batman' on it. She took it, turning around to show it to Damian with a raised eyebrow. “Whose ideas was this?”

“Don’t look at me. Grayson thought it would be an appropriate gift.” Damian muttered sulkily as he continued reading the manual of instructions for the crib he insisted assembling himself, studying it with knitted eyebrows. Was the manual in Swedish? What there anything this man couldn’t do? Except perhaps build this Swedish convertible crib which was clearly giving him a headache.

“Why am I not surprised?” She rolled her eyes as she caressed her swollen belly affectionately. She did it often, out of instinct. It felt so natural...yet strange. In less than three months she would become a mother.

Mother. She was about to be someone's mother. She had only ever pictured the idea in an abstract sort of way, never really picturing it clearly until Damian brought it up about four months after their engagement. Even after a Damian came into her life, she never imagined he would want to have a child with her, if she were being honest. She was not human. This child was not completely human and yet she was certain of risking her own life protecting from any harm. It’s the type of love that leaves you speechless at the end of the day. It’s a love so pure you almost think it can’t be real. Lois told her once all the forces on this planet will never beat that of a mother. Those words were probably a universal truth.

I am writing this oneshot but I’m not sure I can finish it. But here’s a fragment. I apologise if it isn’t that good but it’s 3am and I’m exhausted 😅😅😅

Malik belongs to @deep-in-mind67 💚💚💚💚

[calpops]

falling facade | c.h.

part six: falling feelings

part one: falling flowers | part two: falling freedom | part three: falling fears | part four: falling failures | part five: falling fame

5k words

Copyright © 2020 calpops. This original work is not allowed to be reposted on any platform in any format (translations included).

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“What’s this?”

Calum’s attention swiftly turned from cleaning his house and getting it ready for his parents arrival to Arden. She stood in the kitchen, facing the fridge with a timid hand outreached to the door. He knew exactly what caught her attention and prompted the question. He bit back a smirk as he left the throw blanket he was folding in favor of sidling up to her, hip pressing into the cabinets and a nonchalant hand finding the cool marble of the countertops. Her fingers lingered on familiar paper and she turned to face him with a raised eyebrow.

“Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten your own work,” Calum teased and let his smirk come back full force.

She let out a small giggle through her interrogation and shook her head. “Okay wise guy. Why is it on display on your fridge door?”

The paper placemat Arden had quickly drawn Calum in in red crayon and sharp lines laid under a magnet on the face of his fridge. He had fished it out of his wallet the night before, not having forgotten it in the folds but keeping it around in an attempt to remind himself of what was real. Their time at the diner was the first of many escapes. It was a comfort to know something honest and authentic stayed with him when he was forced to lie through his teeth; to fabricate stories during interviews, to pose for social media and paparazzi. It was of him and drawn by her in a moment that no one else got to share. It was theirs and theirs alone.

“Because I’m still waiting for a painting to put on the wall. I thought that’d be a good place holder and reminder,” he said and shot a pointed look at the blank living room wall; the empty space above the fireplace begging for life of lively colors and loose waves created by Arden’s hands. It was front and center. A place Calum would be able to see it from almost any position in the living area of his home. He continued in a teasing tone, “you should really get to it.”

Their conversation on the beach about the Clifford house hallway once being lined with Arden’s art only to be replaced by band accolades hadn’t escaped Calum. His request of a painting reminiscent of sunset on the beach wouldn’t go forgotten or be replaced. Arden nodded, the motion was slow and her gaze was indecisive, fingers abandoning the placemat to curl at her sides. A forced shrug lifted her shoulders.

“You know painting is just a hobby for me, right? They’re nothing special,” she said, her voice became meek and her eyes averted his gaze.

Calum was picking up on subtle queues. Her usual ability to hold eye contact faltered when anything about her life was in question. The strength of her words felt weak and weary as if there was a weight crushing her; taking away her usual eloquent articulation and animation. Calum eyed her for a moment, took a peek at the drawing on the fridge and turned back to her.

“Just a hobby,” he replied to the first half of her statement. “That you enjoy and are really good at.”

She smirked, finally looked directly at him once more and raised an eyebrow in challenge. “I also enjoy dancing while I clean and singing in the shower but I assure you I have no rhythm and am not the Clifford sibling blessed with vocal abilities. Sometimes we just do things; whether we’re good at them or not.”  

Calum didn’t know if he had the ability to challenge her further, to push her and make the strength in her voice falter again. So he changed the subject and took her mind away from replaced paintings and feelings of inadequacy and back to lighthearted teasing tones that lifted weight off the reality they were living. Just like moments in the car where their situation became a joke, Calum changed gears in hopes it would make her smile and quip back at him.

“So you won’t be singing at our wedding then,” he said with an over dramatic sigh and side eye; found that his plan rewarded him with a smile and a laugh.

“No, I’ll save that for you,” she replied and twisted the ring that Calum was becoming accustomed to seeing on her finger. The diamond was still much too gaudy and unlike her but it felt familiar and Calum was unable to picture her without it. “If you’re lucky maybe I’ll show you my dancing on our honeymoon.”

Now Calum’s cheeks were warm and tinting with a blush that spoke of the implications her words held; watched as she skipped away from him with a sarcastic laugh following her to the living room where she finished folding the abandoned throw blanket. Calum didn’t have a comeback or rebuttal though his thoughts were filled and alarm bells tried their best to ring through the haze. He shook himself, tried to blow those thoughts away and nearly jumped at the sudden knock on the door. For a moment he feared it was their parents arriving early, interrupting their plan to work out what details they would and would not share with them during their suspected inquisition. But he rationalized and realized it was Michael, he was to arrive early to be in on the details. He wasn’t sure if Michael’s arrival was better or worse.  

***

Calum’s arm found its way around Arden’s shoulder in an all too natural sense. It fit a little too perfectly, was a little too easy and normal. Eyes were on them, parents and siblings; eyes that questioned and eyes that knew but had inklings of wonder clouding them. Michael had agreed to keep up the charade though he made a point that he wouldn’t like it and they both owed him big time. Calum’s arm around Arden was all part of the act but Calum could tell Michael was pondering why it was so easy for them to pull off. He could also see the doubt in his sister’s frown and hoped the panic wasn’t so clearly written on his face. He knew he wasn’t standing with his usual confidence, posture a bit slumped and weight bearing into the cabinet behind him. But Arden eased into his side and loosely held his hand; helped to settle the nerves that simmered and sparked with their families arrival.

“What’s this?” His sister Mali asked, repeating Arden’s earlier words verbatim, touching the same place mat secured to the fridge in the same exact way.

A small grin captured the corners of Calum’s mouth. There were a lot of things he felt he wasn’t prepared to answer or could have thought out more, but Arden’s art wasn’t among them. He knew exactly what to say.

“Arden drew it. On our first date,” he offered and felt the shift of Arden moving to look up at him.

“First date?” She wondered aloud, eyes meeting and holding gazes as she arched her eyebrow in question and amusement.

“At the diner,” Calum began and blew out a breath, hand gliding down her arm as he got lost in the role; caught up in a new game where control really did land in their own hands. He offered truths veiled with something more and something less. He shifted his gaze back to Mali who was eyeing them both; sizing them and their story up. “She told me to sit still and hid it from me until it was done. I’m keeping it up until she gives me a real painting.”

Mali nodded but her eyes squinted and lips pursed for a moment. She took a few seconds to accept the truth and offer a smile before wandering off in search of Duke; past their parents congregated in the dining area. Calum let out a deep breath, all the nerves that felt on the edge of exploding calmed at his sister’s acceptance. Neither Calum or Arden moved from their position, his arm still held her close and her hand didn’t drop from its hold. If asked by Michael later it would be out of necessity. If Calum was honest with himself it’d be a source of comfort.

“Here I thought our first date was the wedding,” Arden whispered, nose twitching as she blushed a timid pink. She stayed quiet so no one else could hear her words but her eyes were wide and told Calum truths no one else would understand. “Your way we got engaged before we even started dating.”

She let out a small giggle and the sound was enough to collide with Calum’s nerves and make the slight alteration of the truth come to life and feel real. Maybe their first date was the wedding, maybe it was an escape in a run down diner, maybe it was a night under the stars during a dying party where inhibitions roamed free. Maybe they hadn’t been on a date at all. What Calum knew was whether the scenarios were real or fake there was something building within him that he couldn’t control or deny.

“We didn’t need to date before we got engaged,” Calum whispered back, eyes averting to the dining room for a split second to ensure their privacy. Their parents still lingered and made small talk; Michael did his best to act as the host. “It was love at first sight, right?”

Arden shook her head, tendrils of hair fell into her face that Calum felt comfortable enough to push back behind her ear this time. She bit her lip and pushed away from the counter their backs were pressed against; Calum worrying for a moment she was also pushing away from him, but she stayed under his arm and her hand firmly held his.

“I’ve known you most my life. I don’t think we fell in love when we were six.”

“Love at second first sight then,” he amended with a laugh; wondering if there might be some validity to that statement.

During their time in the face of the facade Calum often found himself thinking of the first night he had seen Arden again. The house party was ingrained in his memory and the subtleties of her under moonlight stayed with him in vivid flashes and familiar words. He hadn’t known it upon second first sight, not in that split second when their eyes met across the yard and she offered a recognized head nod, but it started to become apparent with backs pressed to the siding, drinks gone empty and pouty lips begging for a favor.

Calum let Arden lead him into the dining area where they were met with an unexpected outcome. Mali’s slight doubt and questioning was drowned out by the belief of their parents. The stories they fed them seemed to win them over; made them excited at the prospect of their children finding each other and falling in love. Though it was quick and unprecedented—with phone calls and circumstances that felt nothing short of suspicious—their parents were blinded by what they assumed was their children’s happiness. Happy. Proud. Excited. All of those words floated around them in a barrage of parental chatter. Calum felt the shift in Arden before he saw it; the way she stiffened against his side, her hold loosening on his hand and the shift of weight from one foot to the other and back again in a rhythmic sway of uncertainty. He wondered if it was anxiety, if the situation wasn’t okay, if there was underlying guilt brimming to the surface.

They made it through dinner, most of the time was spent in a haze that passed over Calum’s thoughts as he drifted from checking the rigid posture that captured Arden and the beaming smiles that their parents graced them with. Every intone of excitement, every near teary eyed admission of pride and pitch of happiness in their voices had Arden lurching. It was minimal and went past the others but Calum caught the subtleties; the slight twitch of her arm or the purse of her lips, the downcast gazes of shiny eyes. His own nerves had calmed but he worried for Arden. It was her want to keep up the charade but he had to wonder if her mind was changing and what that meant for the rest of the visit.

It wasn’t until after dinner when the dishes were done and everyone had split up into smaller groups that Calum sensed something was completely amiss. Arden was in the living room with Mali and her mom—he’d heard her voice just moments ago—but when he rounded the corner she was gone. Before he could ask, before he could even form the thought to ask, Mali was answering for him.

“She took Duke out,” Mali said as she stood and gestured to the sliding glass doors that lead to the backyard. Calum was quick to head over but his sister stopped him short with a low murmur and hand on his wrist. “I know management has a hand in this.”

Calum knew his surprise showed; jaw slackening and an air of disbelief leaving him at the unexpected cornering. Mali could read Calum like a book and they’d never been ones to keep secrets. She was a bit more comfortable reaching and pushing for answers than Calum was but knew when to let up. Her touch fell and she nodded out the door.

“But I know you’re doing what you think is best.”

Calum swallowed down a lump in his throat and exited the house with Mali’s parting words ringing through his mind. The yard was empty, the sun was setting low on the horizon and casting glimmering specks of light against the water in the pool. It reminded him of the sunset dancing along the beach. Of Arden in the water and his towel. Of moments that were too real to be part of the farce. She was nowhere in sight and the usual jingle of the tags on Duke's collar couldn’t be heard. He figured she must have gone to the front yard or up the street to give the old dog a good stretch and walk after dinner. He rounded the side of the house and stopped short. She sat in a familiar position; back pressed to the siding and face turned to the sky. Duke was settled in her lap and nosing his concern into her stomach. Her hands slowly pet him and Calum came to see the glint of a fallen tear tracking down her cheek.

“Arden,” he said her name softly, his own worries etched into his voice. He didn’t want to startle her but she turned to him quickly and wiped at the tear, tried to pretend it wasn’t there or that he hadn’t seen it. She was making to get up but Calum settled down beside her and she stilled. “What’s going on?”

She sighed and he heard the brokenness of her breath. The fracture between the inhale and exhale. “Pretending is just a lot harder than I thought.”

Calum’s chest tightened and his fingers curled into his palms at her response. Her voice was shaky and her hazel eyes were distant. He didn’t understand what she meant. It all seemed to be going well—their parents weren’t as probing as they thought they’d be, they weren’t disappointed in their rash decision or the way they painted the engagement; with glints of the truth and softened edges of drunken escapades.

“Why? They’re all okay with it. Happy even,” Calum offered in an attempt to soothe whatever was bothering her.

Pretending for their parents had been her idea; a request so as not to disappoint her parents with a drunken story and fake relationship. They curated pieces of the truth together and kept to their guns. It was working. But she was cracking and Calum didn’t know why.

“Did you hear them?” She asked and shook her head as Duke nuzzled in even closer, feeling her distress and wanting to offer comfort as well. “They said they’re happy… and proud. The only thing they can be proud of me for is something that’s not even real.”

Calum blanched at that statement. He felt the wind knock out of him and suddenly all the subtleties of Arden at the table began to make sense. It was his turn to shake his head, not able to grasp why she would feel that way. But the shine of her eyes and the bite of her lip spoke volumes of the sorrows she was feeling.

“They didn’t say that’s all they have to be proud of,” Calum reasoned, knowing her parents and the love and pride they had for both of their children and all of their accomplishments.

“I know,” she seemingly agreed and let out another breath. “But they didn’t say they were proud of anything else. Because there’s nothing else.”

“That’s not true,” Calum denied and knew he shouldn’t tell her her feelings were wrong or invalid but they sounded like intrusive thoughts and self doubt; something he’d struggled with himself and would’ve liked to have someone to put them into a new perspective. “You went to university, you travelled, made amazing art—there’s plenty more than us for them to be proud of.”

Arden didn’t say anything for a moment, content to take comfort in the affection Duke was showing her. Calum saw the wavering of her jaw and contemplation cut across her face. She took another few seconds to pull her thoughts together before turning to look him full on, familiar eye contact bringing her fully back to him. He preferred when their gazes didn’t break—liked the strength he could find in hazel even when the subject was delicate and breakable.

“Michael never told you why I really came to visit, did he?” She inquired and Calum realized he hadn’t even asked.

He was too caught up in getting to know her and playing the game that he forgot it all started with a visit. He forgot she had been dodgy in answering that first night at the party. He was sure there was more reasoning than missing Michael for her sudden appearance in a place she so vehemently avoided and seemingly despised.

“No,” Calum answered. “I didn’t ask either. I figured you’d tell me when you were ready.”

Her shoulders slumped as if the weight of the story was bearing down on her at the prospect of telling the truth. Eye contact was steady as she opened up and revealed pieces of her past Calum had only been left to wonder about.

“I was supposed to be figuring things out here. Trying to get my life together and make decisions. Michael was trying to help.”

Calum nodded his understanding. There was a time when he had decisions he needed to make too; two paths unwound at the same time and no right or wrong answer had seemingly been in sight. He’d done the same, sought out his family and then listened to what was inside of him. It took time and then it was sudden, the band was the path he followed and it was a choice he had never regretted. He wanted Arden to follow a path like that too, to wherever she was seeking and find whatever she wanted in life.

“I get it. I know how difficult that can be,” he said and watched as a look of disbelief cut across her features and settled in the way she stared blankly back at him.

“How would you know?” She asked and though the question may have seemed accusatory or like he could never understand, her tone verged on begging to know if he really did and how it was possible. “You had the band. Isn’t that what you always wanted? Didn’t you just… know?”

Calum let out a small and almost sarcastic laugh and quieted when he realized Arden was serious. He realized she didn’t know the choices he faced. They weren’t exactly close during their teenage years; the formation and come up of the band had divided their worlds even more so. It was hard to think of those times, after the weeks Calum had spent with her and all the bits and pieces of their pasts coming back it pained him to think they had been so close yet so very distant from each other for years.

“I had the band and I had football. I had to choose,” he explained and caught her attention as he noted the arch of her eyebrow and the stall of her hand petting Duke.

“But you had options,” she mumbled. “Either would have been something to be proud of.”

“Neither had that certainty, the band might not have succeeded, my football career could have burnt out before it really began. I had to make a choice and then I had to take a chance.”

A breeze passed between them as Arden contemplated his honesty. The situations weren’t carbon copies of each other but they were similar enough Calum felt empathy rattling his ribcage and putting a pang of pain through his heart. The crumple of her face and the stray tear she didn’t bother to brush away left Calum breathless and wanting to reach out. He was hyper aware of everything; their parents in the house, Michael, alarm bells ringing so clearly in his mind, but drowned them out in favor of following his initial instinct. The pad of his thumb was gentle across her cheek, she didn’t say anything, didn’t flinch or question the action. His hand and heart fell as she slightly pulled away and abandoned his gaze to stare up at the night sky. She shifted and settled, sighed once more and geared up to voice her thoughts and struggles by sinking into the comfort Duke provided.

“I wish I had something more solid, something I want. All I have is half a degree and no fucking idea what I want to do with my life. I dropped out of university and travelled to ‘find myself’ but really just ran away. I have nothing that I’m good at.”

Calum was about to interject and remind her of paintings that once hung in the hallway and a place mat posted on the fridge. Her hand finding its way to his knee stopped the words from coming out and he had to wonder if that was her intention. One breath and it was gone.

“At least, nothing that I’m so passionate about that I know it’s what I want,” she said in one fell swoop and surprised Calum. “I don’t have a dream that I'm chasing. If anything I’m only trying to move out of someone’s shadow and doing a bang up job of it. Now I’m caught behind two and stuck in lies that will never end. That’s nothing to be proud of.”

Calum’s throat tightened at the unexpected honesty and turn the night had taken. Only minutes before they were surrounded by family and mindless small talk—or so Calum thought. It was about the engagement and the band and in that moment Calum realized anything to do with Arden outside of their situation hadn’t been brought up. He couldn’t imagine feeling casted into the shadows. His heart ached for her and the struggles she felt she was facing alone.

“I’m sorry for asking you to pretend with our families,” she added, head shaking slightly. “That wasn’t fair. I should just toughen up and tell them the truth. And don’t worry, I’ll tell them it’s my fault and I asked you to go along with it. You shouldn’t have to take the fall for my lies.”

She made to move as if to get up but Calum was quick to stop her; just a light touch and slight shift stalling her intent and bringing them closer. Duke was in her arms but found his way to the ground and stalked off back into the house. A belated moment and skipped heart beat gathered courage for Calum and helped words come out that he had been thinking for weeks. Words that settled in the back of his throat and burned sugary sweet.

“What if it’s not all pretend?”

“What?” Arden was quick to respond and panic—the fear that captured her eyes was unsettling. “Calum, what do you mean?”

She was poised and waiting for his answer as his mind went into chaos. He wasn’t sure he was ready to face everything that came with his own truth but the words came out too soon to stop them. His thoughts were tangled now, fleeting visions of real moments dancing around his mind.

“That we’ve been real… with each other. All those moments away from it all. Those were real. Weren’t they?”

They were real to him—and so were the feelings that followed and defined those moments. The alarm bells rang in full force as she tilted her head and the minimal distance between them felt craterous and minuscule all at once. Peaches invaded his senses and the taste of sugar was just a breath away but it was blown away by approaching footsteps. Arden moved away on instinct and Calum wondered if alarm bells rang in her mind as well. She settled back on the grass just in time for Michael to round the corner and come into view with his arms crossed and a ghost of a smirk disappearing from his face. Calum and Arden both looked up at him in silence and waited for him to speak first.

“Everyone was wondering where you guys wandered off to,” he began and then shot a pointed look at his sister. “Mum and Joy are talking about wedding dresses. Told them I’d find you, they thought you wouldn’t want to miss it.”

“Right, thanks for the heads up,” Arden said around a sigh and began to stand.

She shot Calum a glance as Michael began to lead her back to the house. Calum was quick to get up and follow her into the conversation of possible bridal styles and centerpieces. Duke had found his way to his usual perch on the couch and perked up when Calum and Arden walked in. Calum took up Arden’s side as she broke into the discussion by clearing her throat to announce her presence. The mothers turned to look at her; eyes alight with wedding wonder and idle chit chat being broken.

“I don’t know how to say this,” Arden began and Calum’s stomach sank as he realized the truth was verging on her lips. His hand reached out for hers, in solidarity, to show that he would stand beside her no matter what she decided. They could weather the storm better together than stranded and alone.  “But Calum and I aren’t getting married.”

Instant regret flooded Arden’s eyes as the room fell silent and shock hung thick within the air. She tensed against his side and turned to look at him with a pleading expression that Calum could only interpret as reversing the statement and making the visible disappointment and heartache vanish from the room. He hoped it was what she wanted.

“Not yet, anyway. We rushed the engagement, clearly. We don’t want to rush the wedding too. We want to enjoy some time together without the pressure of planning. We’ll let you guys know when we’re ready for that,” Calum jumped in smoothly as he watched the panic disperse from Arden’s eyes and felt the appreciative squeeze of his hand—a signal and a thank you that reassured him his hope was correct.

Everyone simmered at his explanation; they called Arden’s statement complete theatrics and not a funny joke though they were laughing, Calum guessed it was more so in relief than in good jest. Michael was the only one who didn’t wear a reaction so clearly on his face, just an arch of a questioning eyebrow at the initial honesty of Arden he hadn’t been privy to. Calum knew some explaining to Michael was due—and that Mali wouldn’t be so easily satiated with the on the fly explanation he had come up with.

The rest of the evening went by in a blur of nerves that kept both Calum and Arden on their toes. They tried their bests to remember the odds and ends of what had already been said. Mali pulled Calum aside for a moment as the night was dying down and a bite of fear coursed through him as he knew her suspicions were sharp and came with merit.

“I still don’t know what’s really going on,” she began and offered a sympathetic smile that helped to calm his nerves. “But I can tell there’s something real there. Just be careful, okay? I don’t want to see either of you ending up hurt. Especially not by each other.”

Calum took her words for all they were worth but only slightly nodded to show he had been listening. He still couldn’t manage to give her the answers she was seeking but the nod acted as much more than a method to show he was listening. He understood. He confirmed. He agreed. The last thing he wanted was for this entire situation to end with hurting hearts.

The hole of lies and half truths they were falling into was being dug deeper and deeper; no landing was in sight. He swept the room as everyone prepared to leave or settle in for the night and his stare landed back on Arden who hadn’t peeled her eyes away from him since his saving moment. It took one look to realize that falling was okay, as long as it was with her. As long as it was real. Calum had started to speak his truth to her and now he could only hope that all of the falling feelings that consumed him were somewhere within her as well.

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[tails-and-scales]

The Lamia of Tails and Scales

Figured it was about time to get a proper master list up, especially because the amazing @dotchi13​ and @novetteus​ commissioned the wonderful @calmchapsart​ for art of the bitties offered here which I am extraordinarily grateful for. 

Nocturne

Nightmare lamia bitty

Venomous

Venom causes clotting in the blood that takes hold quick, venom is almost more like an ooze instead of liquid

12-18 inches long

 6 inches ‘standing’

 5-7 pounds

Has a very notable scale color, the top scales are a deep purple while the belly is a dark cyan, on the back of the lamia’s tail is a large, light purple crescent moon

 Prefers to be around his owner and the select few he trusts

*Warning* This bitty is easily influenced by negativity and can corrupt, becoming feral if one is not careful. Handle with extreme care, especially if there is a Lumen bitty that is being mistreated or if you mistreat the Nocturne Bitty. Nocturne is much like Lumen in the way he gives off a slight negative aura in a manner like Nightmare, but having the brothers together is the easiest way to combat any issues

Feral Nocturne  (Note that these are not offered if it can be helped)

Reacts violently when provoked 

More likely to bite

Is easier to provoke without his twin close by

Secrets his venom through his scales and over his bones to give the goopy appearance 

Can be ‘reverted’ from his feral form by time with his twin, must be left alone for a few days for the Lumen to calm and comfort 

Will not easily trust after being soothed from his ‘feral state’

Scales will turn black with a violet Moon, and the underbelly will be a vibrant cyan

Has four tentacles on his back that he will use to constrict prey 

Lumen

Dream lamia bitty

Nonvenomous

*Produced an antivenom to Nocturne’s venom

* 9-15 inches long

* 5 inches 'standing’

*4-6 pounds

*Has a notable deep golden scale color on his tail with a pale yellow belly, and depending on how the lamia is treated/the amount of negativity he has to 'combat’ some of his scales may darken to black. On his back is a very notable yellow-orange sun marking.

*He’s rather energetic and playful, enjoying being around Ink and Swap!Sans bitties. He does enjoy being around Nocturne due to the family bond between them.

*Warning* This bitty is a lot like Dream in the way of he does give off a positive aura, these bitties do try to help but are oft taken advantage of. Be careful if you plan to try and take advantage of them, as if they have a Nocturne nearby, the Nocturne will attack. They do not like being separated from the Nocturne they hatched with, and can be very despondent for a fair while, even with other bitties

NOTE: It is best to adopt these lamia together due to the venom/antivenom correlation. And if the are adopted separately, do try to keep in touch with the person who got the other sibling to arrange playdates, the lamia do not like being separated

Impurus

Shattered!Dream lamia bitty

Venomous

Venom is very similar to Nocturne, however it does not kill near as quick, it ends up being either nonfatal or a very painful death. His bite on other bitties can turn them feral (very similar to how Shattered!Dream corrupts others)

10-16 inches long

5 inches 'standing'

Weighs 4-8 pounds

The top scales have darkened to a dark yellow with black splotches, the sun marking not being grey instead of yellow, and the belly is a dark gold, bones are black and goopy

This bitty loves to tease and taunt, often being cruel to other bitties, it is recommended to only have this bitty and not have him around others.

*Warning* This bitty is recommended for a very patient, and experienced owner, keep him away from Nightmare bitties, and be cautious around other bitties.

Umbra

Nightmare lamia bitty (Shattered Dreams AU)

Venomous

Venom is just like a regular Nocturne bitty, however he rarely bites, as such the  venom causes clotting in the blood that takes hold quick, venom is almost more like an ooze instead of liquid. Due to the Impurus’ nature, a Lumen’s antivenom would be what helps most if there is an accidental bite.

15-20 inches long

7 inches 'standing'

Weighs 7-10 pounds

The main scales are a near black purple, with small flecks of white scales, the purple crescent moon on his back is a more lilac hue, and his underbelly is violet with a black stripe down each side

This bitty is a good bitty with children, playing with them and reading books with them. Pair him with an Elisium bitty and you'll have a slightly worried lamia who is trying to make sure the smaller one is well looked after. Make sure to keep him as stress/any negative emotion free as it can affect him.

*Warning* This bitty is very protective of his family, and in turn that means he is protective of his owners and other bitties. The only time this bitty will bite is when his family is threatened. If he is kept around negative emotions, he can become 'corrupted' and violent

Elisium

Eden lamia bitty (Shattered Dreams AU)

This bitty’s ‘venom’ is actually a form of antivenom to the Impurus’ venom and can aid with the ‘feral/corruption’ of other bitties if they are bit by the other lamia.

6-10 inches

4 inch 'standing

Weights 5-7 pounds

The scales are a maroon with small yellow star marks speckling near where the scales meet bone, and the underbelly is a soft gold. His eyes are mismatched, one red, one green.

This bitty has a very innocent personality, and is oft with a childlike wonder. He tries to make many friends and gets along with (or tries to) any bitty or human. He greatly enjoys being around an Umbra due to the familial bond

*Warning* This bitty is very curious and can end up being under foot often, one needs to watch where they step and make sure this bitty does not take any serious falls. He is still a young lamia and is a bit fragile.

Ascella

Dreamswap Dream lamia bitty

Venomous(?)

This bitty's venom is strange as it acts more as a purification item than something to kill

9-15 inches

6 inches 'standing'

4-6 pounds

The scales are a bright gold with a cream underbelly, on his back there is a yellow orange sun pattern and cream hued feathers decorating the scales. There are times, when this bitty is well cared for and his magic is high, that he does have wings, and they are strong enough that the bitty is able to fly up to his owner's shoulder.

This bitty does not get along very well with Nightmare bitties, and has his own sense of justice. He does look out for other bitties and can be kind, granted he often behaves a bit tsundere about it and refuses to acknowledge said kindness.

*Warning* This bitty does not tolerate any kind of abuse or mishandling of himself or other bitties and will not hesitate to protect and take other bitties to a safe area. If this bitty is truly made a foe, it leads to a very dangerous lamia.  We do our best to raise the clutches of Ascella and Nox together to at least keep them cordial with each other, and the ones that live as hatchmates are quite fond of each other and don’t mind being adopted out together.

Nox

Dreamswap Nightmare lamia bitty

Venomous

His venom is similar to other Nightmare lamia, but it is weaker. It causes the blood to clot up easier but does not cause clots due to being injected.

10-14 inches long

5 inches 'standing'

5-6 pounds

The scales of this lamia are a mix of violet and orchid with a near wine hued crescent on his back, and his underbelly is a gentle lavender.

This bitty is honestly a bit timid, often avoiding Ascella bitties due to the threat they pose to the Nox bitty. They do well in quiet environments and enjoy being around their owner. They prefer lower energy bitties if there are other bitties in the family, and they love either soft music or reading with their owners.

*Warning* Try to avoid overloading these lamias senses, as they are much more wary than the others. As long as they are kept away from Ascella bitties, they'll be safe and calm, otherwise they may try thrashing or biting to escape. We do our best to raise the clutches of Ascella and Nox together to at least keep them cordial with each other, and the ones that live as hatchmates are quite fond of each other and don’t mind being adopted out together.

Rever

Empireverse Dream Lamia

 Produces the antivenom to Cauchemar

 Weighs between 9 - 12 pounds

 Standing height is 8 inches

 Length: 16 - 22 inches

 Ivory colored scales with a pale yellow underbelly.

 There is a golden colored stripe down the left side of his back with a sun resting in the center of his back.

 The marking on his back matches the one on his face.

 Usually a very peaceful bitty, loves being surrounded by nature and animals. He may oft be found in a garden if given the chance.

 Loves to teach others and gets along really well with upbeat or energetic bitties despite his peaceful nature, some examples being Swap Sans and Ink bitties.

Cauchemar 

Empireverse Nightmare Lamia

 Produces a neurotoxin venom

Weighs 12-15 pounds

 Stands at 9 inches

 Length is 18-24 inches

Ebony colored scales with an eggplant purple underbelly

There is a cyan stripe down his right side with a moon resting in the center of his back

 Much less chaotic than the feral Nocturne, more calculating and strict, but also quite protective over his family if he deems something a threat.

Greatly enjoys working on difficult puzzles and reading by moonlight.

Gets along well with ‘bad’ bitties like Horrors, Killers, Murders, and Errors. He will try to make his own little ‘court’. I can definitely recommend Dotchi’s wonderful shop if you do want to get him his own little court.

Dreamtale was made by @jokublog​

Dreamswap was made by @onebizarrekai​

Shattered Dreams was made by @erroredart​/@shattereddreamsau​

Empireverse was made by @lunnar-chan​

[tsarisfanfiction]

Unexpected, Not Unwanted

Fandom: Thunderbirds Rating: Gen Genre: Family Characters: Lucille, Tracy Family

A new PoV for #fluffember day 15 - Son/Daughter.  I’ve never tried to write Lucille before, but I’ve tackled Jeff a few times now so it was time to switch things up a bit.  For those that haven’t noticed, I use the birth order Scott>John>Virgil in my fics, which usually doesn’t affect the stories all that much but is very important in this one!

It might not have been her intention to end up with five sons, but that didn’t mean she loved them any less.

She would never say any of her sons were an accident, because that implied a level of unwantedness that could hardly be further from the truth.  She’d always wanted children, one day, excited to explore the challenges of motherhood once she found the right man to be her husband and their father.

That didn’t change the fact that her first pregnancy was unexpected.  Her first absent period was the clue, the second confirmation, and from there it was a whirlwind ride of hormones no anecdotes from her own mother nor her mother-in-law could properly prepare her for.  Nine long months of mood swings, pains and underlying panic that she wasn’t ready to be a mother, not so young and still in the honeymoon phase of her marriage, was rounded off by a surprisingly quick labour, for her first child.

Scott’s love of speed started early.

She hadn’t been ready to be a mother, the weight of the wedding ring on her finger still feeling fresh with less than a year since she’d received it, but one look at determined blue eyes and that didn’t matter.  She was a mother, and this small, delicate child she’d brought into the world needed her.

It wasn’t easy.  Jeff was gone for much of it, already dedicated to an expedition before she’d realised she was pregnant.  He’d managed to be there for the birth – an anxious first-time father somehow more terrified than she was – but it was barely a month later that he was gone, leaving her to turn to her parents and in-laws for help.

Still, despite the absence of his father for much of the first year of his life, Scott didn’t seem at all daunted by the world.  She didn’t know it at the time, but four more sons later and it was painfully obvious that he’d been paving the way for his future siblings.

(She wondered, sometimes, if he’d always known he would have little brothers).

John, at least, was planned. In all honesty, he was the only one that was, a nice two years younger than Scott – close enough in age to bond, but far enough apart to grow into being their own people.  In a mirror of Scott, Jeff was off planet when he was born – a relatively last minute change of personnel and a reluctant baby to leave the quiet of the womb for the noise of the world combining to whisk her husband away a week before her waters broke.

Like Scott before him, John’s first year of life was largely filled by grandparents, although he also had a curious toddler poking and prodding at him with big blue eyes.  She was never sure if it was curiosity or jealousy in those earliest days.

If Scott was loud and fast, then John was quiet and patient.  He rarely fussed, content to sit and watch the world around him – and then the sky, after one memorable evening where she found Scott had escaped his bed and instead of running to her, as toddlers were known to do, had run instead to his little brother to point at the stars.

(She never knew what he’d told John, but from that day onwards, John always looked to the stars).

After the noise of Scott, John’s comparative silence had been a point of concern.  She knew that babies were all individual, but such a stark contrast between her sons caught her off guard.  It was only after a few months that she realised John was quiet because Scott made the noises for him.  The big brother instinct he became known for later in life started almost immediately; somehow, he always knew when John needed something before John started to cry, and John – smart, observant John – learnt fast that it was less effort on his behalf if he let Scott make the noise instead.

Virgil, for all that he was equally spaced from Scott and John, followed his biggest brother in being unexpected.  It was not that they didn’t want more children, but it was very easy to track the date of his conception back to Jeff’s return from another mission.  Like John, he was reluctant to leave her when the time came, several weeks after he was due, but like Scott he was a noisy baby.

She thought that bemused Scott a bit, finding that the tricks he’d figured out for being the best big brother he could to John didn’t work for Virgil.  Virgil had a big set of lungs and absolutely did not need biggest brother to talk for him.  John found this utterly bizarre, but quickly and begrudgingly realised that with Scott’s attention no longer entirely on him, he had to speak up for himself, now. Much to her amusement, while Scott may not have consciously known how to big brother Virgil, despite that, as soon as he could crawl it was Scott, and not her, that he aimed for.

(Virgil always was drawn to Scott, right from the start.)

Like his brothers before him, Gordon was unique.  Scott had been fast, John quiet and Virgil reluctant, but Gordon was troublesome. Another unexpected pregnancy – once again with suspicious timing around Jeff’s latest mission return – he couldn’t let anything go to plan.  Complication after complication arose, giving rise to suspicions amongst the midwives that her body wasn’t fit for a fourth pregnancy.

She could never give up on him, though.  Not when gentle hints were dropped that perhaps it would be better for her if there was no fourth child, that the signs were there that he wouldn’t survive to term. Not even when she was induced after a shade over seven months because the complications got too much.  Gordon didn’t give up either, lungs to rival Virgil’s as soon as he realised how to use them.

(She knew that Gordon was like mithril, from the stories.  Light and delicate in appearance, but stronger than the toughest steel.)

With three elder brothers, Gordon wanted for nothing.  John sat by him as he read his books, letting him shriek uninterrupted and shooting disapproving looks at anyone who tried to quiet him.  For a child who loved silence, he was surprisingly tolerant of noise from his brothers, as long as he was experiencing it on his own terms.  Virgil alternated between a clear adjustment of not being the family baby anymore and attempts to emulate Scott by being the best big brother he could be – even if that meant letting Gordon near the paints and the carnage that always followed that.

Scott, old enough to understand now that all babies were different, watched.  The same instinct that had him crying on John’s behalf resurfaced as a silent guardian, observing what Gordon liked and what he didn’t.  It was Scott that first got into a water fight with Gordon, small splashes at bath time that Gordon returned with a fervour beyond anything he gave to everything else he threw himself into – a feat she hadn’t thought possible.

After the difficulties of Gordon’s pregnancy, they made the decision that they shouldn’t risk a fifth. Jeff had been terrified throughout the seven months, to say nothing of the panic in her three boys whenever Mommy went into hospital again.

In many ways, Alan was the most stubborn of the five.  Unexpected in that she’d been on birth control to prevent further pregnancies, and then determined to prove them all wrong.  The midwives sighed in quiet despair, Jeff returned to blind panic, and Scott – now old enough to know what, exactly, had happened with Gordon – drove himself into a frenzy to keep both her and his fourth, yet-unborn, sibling safe.

It was Scott that made the decision easier.  The idea of ending a life never sat well with her or Jeff – a belief that was solely responsible for Gordon’s continued existence – and with their eldest son firmly attached to the new life they agreed to risk it, once more.

Proving Scott’s faith in him right, and perhaps trying to show up his immediately older brother, Alan was as smooth sailing as Scott himself had been, all those years earlier. Easier, in some ways, because this time she knew what to expect.  Right on time, eager to follow his brothers, he’d brought himself into the world with the same determination he’d continue to face the world with.

Gordon, long used to being the baby of the family, found no use for the squealing creature she brought home.  Not, at least, until Alan was big enough to become a partner in crime, at which point a switch was flipped and it was almost impossible to find one without the other, much to the consternation of the older three.  Virgil, emboldened by his success at big brothering Gordon, took to the expansion of his responsibilities like a duck to water.  If she ever needed a little help, it was always Virgil there first.

Much as he had with Gordon, John sat quietly with Alan.  She caught him by Alan’s cot one night, pointing at the stars and patiently teaching him constellations when the youngest should have been fast asleep, and wondered if he remembered Scott doing something similar for him, once. As for Scott himself, if there was anyone who could claim to perfect the art of being a big brother, it was her eldest son.  He let Virgil run ahead, because Virgil wanted to help, but he was always there one step behind, watching over both of them and ensuring Alan always had whatever he wanted.  Piggy back rides were far from uncommon.

(It was clear that Alan wanted to stand shoulder to shoulder with his brothers.)

She and Jeff were blessed with five beautiful boys, even if Jeff was rarely around for their infant years, and there was nothing she would ever change about any of them.  Scott was protective and bold, John quiet but sharp, Virgil calm and loyal, Gordon wild and strong, and Alan stubborn and determined.  Together, they balanced each other perfectly.

(People asked if she wished she had a daughter, if that was why she had five sons?  That question was barely worth an answer.  Wishes implied she was unhappy with what she had, and that couldn’t be further from the truth.)

[slversoul]

* lauren tsai, cis female + she/her | you know ramona pei, right? they’re twenty-three, and they’ve lived in irving for, like, eight years? well, their spotify wrapped says they listened to can i believe you by fleet foxes like, a million times this year, which makes sense ‘cause they’ve got that whole sitting at the bottom of a swimming pool while your lungs are screaming for air, the muffle of a tv from behind a closed door at 3am, ripping your dress as you crawl into your friends window thing going on. i just checked and their birthday is march 6, so they’re a pisces, which is unsurprising, all things considered. ( corny :D  )

also sorry this got so long :(( really meant to shorten it but uh oh well. let’s get into it shall we...  

TW: blood mentions, violence, arson, emotional manipulation, cheating, absentee parenting, parental fighting

ABOUT.

in her hand, ramona held an antique vase, white with blue detailing. passed down from generation to generation, it had been in her family for decades. not wanting to drop it, she held it as tightly as possible. held so tight that it shattered anyway, breaking into hundreds of pieces that cut her hand as they fell.

a trip to china to celebrate graduating college despite having two children in between, patti met a man and had a short-lived but passionate affair, only to return home to find out she was pregnant.  

in the middle of a storm, ramona was born into a home longer than it was tall. patti gave her her father’s last name, some shallow attempt to connect her to a man and culture she didn’t know. 

ramona’s early years float through her mind like a montage of memories. rolling in the dirt and eating worms. climbing up the trees that shadowed the driveway to their house, jumping from branch to branch. cutting her doll’s hair before cutting her own to match. the first meeting of patti’s new boyfriend. his hairy belly hanging out of his white wife beater as he fell asleep on the couch with the tv on.

patti loved her children. she loved trent, shirley, and ramona with her whole heart, but she was tired. working all day and all night, it was hard to keep tabs on them at all times. the three of them woke up early every morning, singing as they packed lunches, and they kept up with their chore wheel, and they ran barefoot for hours in the woods behind their house.

she first learned to swim in a grimmy lake a couple miles from her house. she’d sit on the bike with trent as he took them there. she jumped right in and paddled her arms until she learned to stay afloat. she’d go under and swim deeper and deeper until her siblings were screaming her name. she’d come up and laugh, knowing that her siblings cared for her.

her first friend was debbie. they were inseparable. holding hands on the playground. playing hopscotch after school. swimming in the lake by her house. as the days went on, debbie made new friends. less and less she was at ramona’s house, eating peanut butter sandwiches trent had made. a thursday afternoon, ramona stole a hershey’s bar from the gas station — deb’s favorite candy. after her mom tucked her in, she snuck out and ran to her friend’s, still in her pjs. she threw rocks at the window, and one was thrown a bit too hard, shattering the window. debbie’s screams woke the whole neighborhood. the cops were called. while she was escorted home, ramona was crying the whole time, confused as to what she did wrong. all she wanted to do was win her friend back.

she felt like she didn’t belong. she’d cut up pictures of her favorite actresses and paste pictures of her own face over theirs, hanging those portraits all over the walls of the house. if she lived like the characters on the tv, she would have to be real. that was real life. there were times when everything felt perfect. the feeling of relief that comes from placing the last piece in a puzzle. snapshot memories like sitting at the table with her siblings, swinging her feet because her legs were too small to hit the ground. her first kiss underneath the slide. running with her friend, crayons in hand as they doodled along the walls. she was inclined to freeze these memories, trying to prolong them and make them last forever.

so when trent left for college, ramona, 13 at the time, hugged him so tight and wouldn’t let go. her mother and sister had to pry her off of him, and she scratched him so hard she drew blood in the process. or when her first boyfriend broke up with her and two weeks later he had a new girlfriend. she took her nail polish and wrote ‘cunt’ on his locker, earning herself a week-long suspension. shirley only congratulated her. her mother was at work. her step-father was passed out on the couch.

she acclimated to high school easily with shirley there to guide her. but she quickly made her own friends. tamra’s parents were hardly home. her house served as homebase. ramona’s parents didn’t realize when she left. they were too busy screaming at each other over the static of the tv. she’d slip out and run to tamra’s, climbing into the window left open. they’d put makeup on like their favorite movie character and get in their nicest dresses, before meeting their girlfriends and boyfriends in the parking lot of the abandoned walmart, making a competition out of who could get the drunkest. they would head home and four or five of them would pile into tamra’s bed and sleep there until late afternoon.

ramona’s first serious relationship was russell. she swore they were in love until she caught him making out with someone else at a bonfire. she pushed him over and ran into the woods. two weeks later, they were back together. he was her dream guy. not even nicholas sparks could write a lead so romantic. he kept pushing her and pushing her because he knew she wouldn’t let go. until one night she got so mad that she smashed in the windows of his car and sliced up the leather interior. fits of rage were rare for her, but when they came around, they were all consuming. she was lucky he didn’t press charges. 

life was a whirlwind of change the summer before sophomore year. shirley was packing up for college. patti was getting a divorce and moving them to irving, her hometown. ramona locked herself in her room. she wouldn’t come out for anything. the next day, when she still wouldn’t leave, shirley broke into her room, only to find it empty with the window wide open. a town-wide manhunt ensued, only to find her hiding up in a tree in the woods. 

even though she was back home, she wasn’t really there. she wouldn’t speak. didn’t speak until the day shirley moved away to go to college. 

 despite her reservations, she liked irving. she had never seen the ocean before. ramona stepped up to the shore and looked out at the horizon. peace washed over her as the waves lapped at her ankles. there was a sense of security in feeling so small. she took to swimming in the ocean rather than the lake, searching for sea creatures big and small to befriend.

the tv was always on at their house. her mom couldn’t stand the quiet and neither could she. the house was empty with three less booming voices. ramona clung to her friends, using them as an escape for everything she didn’t want to think about.

surrounded by all of these people, she still felt alone, isolated, like they only loved a certain version of her. when her and patti left to meet trent to visit shirley at school, she cried the whole trip, thinking her friends would talk about her while she was gone, and that they would be closer when she wasn’t there.

but she seemed to always be there, forcing her way into every plan and every activity rather than be left out. it was suffocating, but she was usually kind, so people put up with her.

there were always the times she wasn’t kind. when she’d make passive aggressive comments about what a bitch someone was because they didn’t want her using their favorite eyeshadow. or when someone said they wanted space and she went on a tirade about how horribly they treated her because she didn’t want them to leave her -- a reactionary measure that always seemed to make everything worse. but then she would act out her favorite television episodes for her friends and they would laugh and clap along, forgetting her desperate attempts to fight change. 

she couldn’t follow in her siblings footsteps. siblings she hardly hears from anymore, but desperately tries to reach out to. she stayed home and got a job as a swim instructor and a lifeguard in the summer. she sells handmade jewelry on the side. she’s floating and untethered, waiting to see where the tide carries her, only wanting to make fun memories from now until the end of time. 

PERSONALITY. 

um she’s a bit horrible? her heart is always in the right place and her intensions are good. she romanticizes literally everything. she wants to be loved so badly that she will look past any and all flaws <3. she often acts out because she is scared of losing her friends, and so she’ll be rude and passive aggressive. she wants them to feel like they need her more than she needs them. it’s all a weird power move in a way to keep her friends close. consumed by fomo. sometimes she can be outright mean and aggressive, but she really has to be pushed to her limit. doesn’t ever see what she’s doing as wrong. her older siblings were more of parents to her than her actual parents, and since they were all within 5 years of each other in age, her siblings never disciplined her because they were all immature. she is playful and untamed and just likes to do things because she can’t sit still. can always be found hanging out with friends and doing arts in crafts, or climbing rocks or swimming in the ocean. 

HEADCANONS.

she can’t get rid of things. her windowsill is lined with empty makeup bottles and empty deodorants and flowers in old wine bottles. she wears clothes until they literally fall apart. she has a million posters and pictures covering every space of her walls and ceiling. her room is a collection of her life with piles of clothes on her desk chair and bras and sweaters hanging from door handles.

for three months, she wore a bathing suit every day. some days it was under regular clothes and others it was the only thing she wore. she liked it and thought it was fashionable. it was how she was most comfortable.

she can’t drive! only rides her bike!

only wears dresses now <3

cannot sleep without the tv on! likes to hear voices lull her to sleep and inspire her dreams.

speaking of dreams, she has a whole notebook filled with the time she decided to analyze dreams for fun. has a notebook per passion she wants to explore. is always trying new things or researching new things to try to find her forever interest, not coming to terms that she wants to run wild forever and live like a witch in the woods, completely unburdened by anything.

she has a scar on her knee and the palm of her hand. she was hiking up a waterfall with friends one time, and got dared to climb up some slippery rocks. needless to say, she fell and cut herself badly.

she likes laughing and running and swimming. she likes posters and nail polish and cozy comforters. she dislikes being confined indoors and people who go out of their way to be mean and rainy days. she dislikes the color orange and words she can’t pronounce and learning from a textbook. she likes bikes and she doesn’t like cars. she likes anyone with kind eyes.

[cutebubbles]

What if the Sakamakis had sisters?

So this is an AU where the brothers had comforting female figures growing up. The boys would still have PTSD and other mental issues but I like to think they would have more sympathy to other people in this universe (plus treat Yui better due to having female figures they respect)

Warning: mentions of sexual assault/rape

Sumiye Sakamaki

Mother: Beatrix

Age: 18 (physically)

Name meaning: bright mind; smart girl

Hobbies: Playing the harp, cleaning, organizing

Bio: Sumiye is the second oldest and twin sister to Shu. She and Reiji are the “parent” older siblings of the house, though she’s more open in showing kindness and gentleness. Sumiye is the one who usually keeps the peace in the house whenever to call out Reiji when he’s being too harsh with his rules or stopping arguements between her siblings.

History: Beatrix put all her attention to Shu and Sumiye for different reasons. Sumiye was specifically was taught from a young age how to be a proper lady to attract a husband for political reasons. She tried to please her mother but Beatrix was never satisfied with any progress she did and Sumiye slowly came to resent her. Despite hating what her mother has done to her and her brothers, Beatrix’s teachings are ingrained in her head to the point she gets anxiety whenever she feels she doesn’t live up to what her mother taught her. She works too hard being the “mother” of the family to keep her siblings happy but also because she fears disappointing others like her mother was with her. As a child, Sumiye snuck out with Shu to escape the pressure from their mother and befriended a boy named Edgar from a village. He was her first love but she thought he died when Reiji had the village burned down. Mourning for his death, she locked herself in her room until Reiji and Shu put aside their differences to visit her together.

Shu and Reiji: Sumiye is often the mediator between the two and they’re usually quick to stop disagreements when she tells them to. Sumiye would relate to Shu when it comes to the pressure Beatrix put on them and she would spend as much time with Reiji as she could (being aware he felt lonely). Caring for Sumiye is the only thing Shu and Reiji have in common. Unlike Shu, Sumiye was angry at Reiji for what he did to the village. When she locked herself in her room, she realized their mother was the direct cause for Reiji thinking he needed to do that to get her attention and he probably felt like be abandoned him like Beatrix whenever she visited the village with Shu. Seeing that Reiji is remourseful for what he did she forgave him and focused her hatred to her mother.

Yukiko Sakamaki

Mother: Cordelia

Age: 18 (physically)

Name meaning: snow child (Cordelia hates the snow)

Hobbies: Running, nail art, cooking

Bio: Yukiko is the fourth child and the oldest between her, Ayato, Laito, and Kanato. Yukiko is dubbed “the fun older sibling” by Ayato and Laito due to being more playful and more willing to do things than Shu, Sumiye, and Reiji. She’s the sibling who is willing to listen to any of their problems and is the not judgemental about it.

History: Cordelia hated Yukiko the moment she found out she’s a girl. She wanted a male heir to grab Karlheinz attention and saw her daughter as competition for her husband’s affections. Once she gave birth to the triplets, she treated Yukiko as a maid as soon as she was able to walk and made her take care of her brothers. Yukiko was the only caring mother figure the triplets had in their lives. Cordelia would abuse Yukiko to take out her anger and to make her face “ugly” so she wouldn’t be beautiful as her. She would also have suitors she wasn’t interested in go to her and some would sexually assault her. Later, her mother would try to kill her in a jealous rage when Karlheinz rapes her but is saved by Ayato stabbing her. Then Laito pushes Cordelia off the balcony, she and Kanato burn her body together and laugh as they watch the flames.

Ayato, Laito, and Kanato: Yukiko was the one who raised her brothers. Her brothers would often go to her for comfort and ask her why their mother treats them like this as children. She would always feel guilty when she never had an answer and tried to be that mother figure in their lives. She would feel more guilty when she couldn’t stop her mother from abusing them and this would cause her to be protective of them when she grows up. She always hid her pain from them to put up a brave face despite her own suffering. She also loves getting into her brothers’ interests like having tea parties with Kanato, plays basketball with Ayato, and solving crossword puzzles with Laito.

Hanami Sakamaki

Mother: Christa

Age: 15 (physically)

Name meaning: is flower; is fruit; kindness

Hobbies: Reading, writing, painting

Bio: Hanami is the youngest child and is often treated as the baby of the family. Due to being a child born from incest, Hanami has a rather sickly and has hemophilia. She isn’t allowed to move around too much and always has Subaru by her side her if she needs help. Despite acting sweet, meek, and quiet she can have a temper on her when it comes to standing up for Subaru or any of her siblings. She believes in doing what she believes is right and sticks by her opinions. She would also be the only one who can calm Subaru down when he’s angry and vice versa.

History: Similar to Subaru, Hanami grew up with her mother telling her she’s a monster due to the circumstances of her birth and grew up with low self esteem. She was saved from most of her mother’s ire due to being unable to see her as often from being bedridden. The only happy memories she had as a child was when Subaru visited her and when she read romance and fantasy stories. Hanami’s health was horrible as a child so she never went outside to play or met other children besides her brother. She would often dream to be free to go on adventures and find her true love but her hopes diminished as her health got worse. She believed she was better off dead since her birth was a curse to her mother and she couldn’t even enjoy life. Hanami almost died at some point but miraculously survived after Subaru cried and kept begging her to stay alive. Now her health is better to go to school, but her illness will forever be a reminder of why her mother hates her and how she should have died.

Subaru: Due to being frail health wise, Subaru often dotes on her, takes care of any needs, and has been very protective of her since she almost died. They have one of the closest relationships in the family due to this. They would often take walks in the garden, being their favorite pastime whenever she felt healthier on particular days. Despite their own bad perceptions of themselves, they think highly of each other.

Other random information:

• Their sisters often call them out whenever they’re being disrespectful. For example, Yukiko often tells the triplets to be more respectful to people around them. This causes them in specific to be more aware of boundaries and consent when they’re older.

• Reiji and Sumiye often lecture Yukiko to be more ladylike due to her tomboyish personality.

• Kanato only lets Yukiko and Hanami hold Teddy.

• The reason Hanami wear Lolita fashion is because Kanato introduced it to her. She loves having tea parties with him and she’s the only sibling he looks after due to her doll like appearance (headcanon he doesn’t keep human corpses as dolls and has A LOT less violent tendencies; just acts more like a regular spoiled brat but still has trust issues).

• Reiji and Yukiko swap recipes and other cooking knowledge to each other (though Yukiko is usually the one cooking for the family).

• Shu and Sumiye love playing their instruments together.

• Ayato, Laito, and Yukiko love to tease and mess with Sumiye much to her chagrin.

• No one can be mean to Hanami. I mean look at her face.

• The sisters meet up to gossip about the shit their brothers got into every week while braiding each other’s hair.

• Laito and Yukiko confided with each other on how their parents sexually abused them. Something they never told anyone else in the family.

• All three girls hate their father but Yukiko hates him the most out of all the children.

[tired-college-student-writing]

The Painter’s Daughter Ch 4

Summary: Marinette is the daughter of two bakers

Marinette is a happy sometimes naive girl

Marinette is loved to create and make more than they liked to destroy

or was she?

Chapter 1

Chapter 3

Chapter 4 (HERE)

Chapter 5

_________________________________________

“You’re both coming with me,” Helen spoke the second Adrian reappeared from the bathroom, wrapped in Marinette’s oversized pink polka-dotted bathrobe.  The blond looked surprised and suspicious.

“Don’t worry, kid,” Helen continued, “I’m not going to hurt you. I can’t in what little good conscience I have left let anyone become a creep if I can help it, let alone my daughter and her superhero partner.”

“Creep?” Adrian raised his brow at this, edging away slightly.

Helen just rolled his eyes and allowed his glamor to fall, leaving a teenage boy who could have been Marinette’s twin standing where the once lanky man had. He cracked a smile as the boy jumped.

“It’s short for Creepypasta,” He explained, “You’ve probably found our stories before, stories of Jeff the Killer, of Laughing Jack, of Smile Dog, of Slenderman, and thought we were just that, stories. The reality of the situation is Kwamis and Miraculous aren’t the only magic in the world, there’s a much darker side to the unexplainable out there. I and, by extension, Marinette are part of this world. ”

Adrian’s eyes were the size of dinner plates, but even so, a new emotion was flickering in his eye. Most of the time creeps see fear or anger in the eyes of those that discover them, but Adrian has been in such deep broken fear and hurt anger for too long. In his eyes, the father and daughter saw curiosity slowly trickle in.

Marinette smiled softly, “It’s okay Kitty, you’re still safe. Dad’s not going to hurt you.”

Helen snorted, “Even the stupidest creeps have a code. You’re the last person we’d want dead even if you didn’t have a tiny little god of destruction in your pocket. Especially since Marinette likes you so much.”

“Damn straight,” Plagg huffed, tail lashing as if daring the creature to do anything.

“My dad is what’s known as a Proxy,” Marinette explained, “A worker of sorts for a more powerful entity. In his case, he’s a proxy of the Operator, or as you most likely know him, Slenderman. I was conceived after he was made so I fall under the creeps domain as well even though I’m not a creep and will never be a creep unless I commit a murder worthy of my own creepypasta.”

“So all creepypastas are real, and you’re the daughter of,” Adrian’s eyes darted across Helen’s form landing on his pin and the mask attached to his belt, “The Bloody Painter?”

“Ha, you ARE a fan,” Helen snorted.

“And he wants us to come with him because why?”

Plagg winced, floating up to headbutt his user in the cheek, “Kid… he’s worried you’ll become like him. Your sanity is in such a fragile state… it’s worrisome even if you weren’t fighting Hawkmoth. You need to get away from your dad, from Paris and you certainly need to get away from that abusive rapist bitch that broke you before one of us, at best gets akumatized, or worst does something drastic that we can’t take back.”

Adrian cupped the small cat by his face, a single tear running down his cheek as he looked to see the deep understanding of the pair in front of him.  

“Okay,” He said in a soft voice that was barely a breath, “But if we really leave then Paris will be undefended, and won’t people put it together when we leave at the same time as the heroes stop showing up? Can we really leave Paris unde-”

“I have a plan,” Marinette cut in, “but it’s going to take a bit to get into place.”

Helen rolled his shoulders, shifting back into his adult form, “Adrian eat. Let's get some bags packed and put this plan into action.”

_________________________________________

The morning saw Ladybug and Chat Noir swinging through the city with smiles, laughing and greeting the citizens with cheer. When asked why they were out so early they let pain and uncertainty flicker across their faces for a split second, before the smiles were back and they gave some lame excuses about needing a break from their everyday life.

Paris felt a twinge that something wasn’t right that the city couldn’t shake.

When school started Ms. Bustier’s class was surprised and worried to see their principal in their classroom. Adrian was still missing as far as they were aware, they really hoped nothing happened to him.

“Students,” Damocles started once the bell had rung, “Before school today, The Dupain-Chengs came in and informed me that Marinette was being pulled for the rest of the year and moved to homeschooling.”

“What!” Alya yelled, the room breaking into a frenzy.

“SILENCE!” Mr. Damocles barked and patiently waited until the room froze, “Now before any rumors start, they wished for you all to know that Marinette’s birth father had been in a terrible accident and she was on the first plane they could find last night to the United States to be with him as they were not sure if he’d survive very long. She will remain in the US until he is better or until his affairs are put in order. I hope you all do your best to understand and be supportive of her if she reaches out.”

The teacher and principal exit the room soon after with remarks about needing to get the proper paperwork in order for the transfer leaving a shocked classroom.

“Mr. Dupain isn’t her dad?” Alya whispered in shock only for Nino to shrug.

“Well, yeah, Kim and I were invited to the wedding and Marinette told us when she was changing her name. Her dad is some artist from the states, Sabine didn’t give out too many details but it wasn’t hard to put together Mari was a one night stand baby. Her dad was pretty cool though. I hope he’s okay.”

Kim nodded when the class turned to look at him, “ Yeah we met him when he came for her tenth birthday, gave her some really awesome fabric she ended up making into a dress she wore to the school banquet. Apparently, his job is pretty sporadic so he’s not able to visit regularly, but you can tell he really loves Marinette and treated all of us pretty well.”

Chloe snorted, “Speak for yourselves, He gave me the creeps with his stare when I tried to say something to Marinette, made some weird comment about how I’d make a lovely medium for art one day.”

Nathanial gave her a quizzical look, “You mean muse?”

“No? I’m pretty sure I’d remember the ridiculous statement the man-made to me. He definitely said medium.”

“But,” Nathanial muttered, “That makes no sense. A medium is the materials used for an art piece, not the subject of the piece. How could he make you his medium?”

“How am I supposed to know?”

Nino’s phone buzzed and he paled looking down, “Uh dudes, Adrian just posted on his insta, like his model insta.”

The pictures on the post were vaguely graphic, nail marks and bruises littering pale skin in sickly colors. Nothing below the belt but they could see how the bruises fell they extended further then he was showing.  

I’m sorry I ran, but I couldn’t handle the sexual abuse anymore. A fellow model, my father’s muse no less, decided I was hers and wouldn’t take no for an answer. She’s lied and lied so much even my friends from school are convinced we’re a couple but I just want to be able to live my life without the fear of her touching me and spinning tales of how no one will believe me if I spoke out, how she’ll tell the world I raped her if I did. I still feel so dirty after she slipped something into my drink. It didn’t even knock me out, simply made it so I couldn’t move. I’m done. I’m sorry but I’m done.

None of the class could stop the bile from rising in their throats as their eyes flash to Lila who was slowly turning pruce.

_________________________________________

The weekend arrived, with only two Akuma attacks since Marinette left for America, Ladybug and Chat Noir taking care of it swiftly and near silently, their normal banter sporadic at best the first time, almost melancholy the second.

Paris had noticed and was nearing panic. What was wrong with their heroes?

Two siblings found out, as the clock clicked closer to Saturday.

The Couffaine siblings were hanging out on their beds, idly playing music together, already in their PJs. Their mother was out for the night, invited to drinks with Jagged to reconnect after all these years. So when they heard thumps on the deck above they froze.

The fear only reduced slightly as the familiar faces of the city’s heroes appeared from the top of the stairs, though the panic shifted to a different source. Luka shoots worried glances at his sister. How would she react to him being a hero?

“Ladybug, Chat Noir,” He greeted, “What’s wrong? An Akuma?”

“Not right now,” Ladybug responded, face serious but ever so kind, “But we have a large favor to ask both of you.”  

“You know I’m always willing to help,” He answered without hesitation and saw his usually timid sister nod in agreement.

“I’ll do everything I can.”

Chat Noir gave a ghost of his usually cheeky grin, “Can you keep a secret?”

Before either sibling got to ask what he meant the pair was engulfed in bright light. When it faded Marinette and Adrian stood in front of the pair.

“Luka Couffaine,” Marinette said, holding out the box with a broken smile, “This is the miraculous of the Snake.”

“Juleka Couffaine,” Adrian continued, holding out an identical box, “This is the miraculous of the Mouse.”

“We’re entrusting you to use these miraculous to keep Paris safe in our steed,” They replied in unison to the frozen siblings, “Do you accept?”

“What?” Juleka squeaked, “You two…”

Luka took the box with a stony look, “What do you mean in your steed?”

Adrian’s face fell, “Chat Noir and Ladybug are leaving Paris for a while. I’m sure you know why I need to leave, but Mari offered me an escape and needs a break as well.”

Marinette’s steely look silenced any protests, “We’ve been failed too many times. It’s breaking us, if we don’t leave soon we're going to end up akumatized ourselves or worse. We’re entrusting you two with the truth, and with being the main protectors of Paris while we’re gone.”

“We’re handing over an official video tomorrow morning explaining our leave of Absence to Nadja to play during the news cycles, probably all of them,” Adrian said with a hollow laugh, “

“But what about the other miraculous?” Luka asked, “We’re not going to be Ladybug and Chat Noir, and even you need help sometimes. What do we do if we need help?”  

“The Fox is with a male user named Badulf and the monkey with King Monkey. My mama currently has the miraculous box, so if you need to get the Bee to Hachimitsu or the dragon to Kaida she’ll have them,” Marinette continued, “If you need another miraculous I trust you to make the choice of who to give it to with a view exceptions. We don’t need another Aspik incident.”

“In my defense,” Adrian counter, “I have a hard time saying no to anyone, let alone my best friend who was trusting me with a very important task.”  

“Okay,” Juleka let out a shaky sigh, “You need to start from the beginning.”

And so they did. They told the pair about getting their miraculous, about the allies they had taken throughout the years, the ones they didn’t trust anymore, the ones that had hurt them too many times. They told them about how life outside the mask had grown harder and harder and trying not to be akumatized was growing near impossible. They listed the spells and charms they had created to allow the pair to contain the akumas since Ladybug would be gone.

Luka and Juleka held their hands, anger, fury, and sympathy rolling off of them. By the end, Marinette worried they would deal with another akumaztion but Juleka elbowed him with a scowl and he took several deep breaths to calm down.

“Okay,” He said finally, “We’ll take care of the city. You two get better okay,”

“Don’t worry,” Marinette said with a soft smile, “You’re going to stay with my dad. He’s going to make sure we don’t snap under all of the pressure.”

“Take this,” She handed over a notecard with a pair of emails on it, “If something like Syren or Stormy Weather shows up again so I can use Miraculous Ladybug. We believe in you.”

As quickly as they had arrived the heroes had left, leaving the siblings to get to know their kwamis and prepare for the news that would break in only a few short hours on how the safety of the city was now on their shoulders.

“Everything done?” Helen asked once the heroes landed in Bois de Boulogne. Once they nodded he tossed them their backpacks and turned to the tree he already carved the Operator symbol into, opening the portal to the Slender Forest.

“Let’s make this quick,” Helen groaned, “Slender isn’t going to be happy I waited this long to get in touch with him.”

“Do you think now is a good time to give Slender the new tie I made him?”

_________________________________________

Taglist: @crazylittlemunchkin @sassakitty @marinettepotterandplagg

[98prilla]

Abductions, Past and Present

Next

Previous 

AO3

...

The two days passes quickly. Remus takes to following Logan around, constantly asking questions, about everything and anything, from how to use the star maps to navigate, to the engineering of the ship itself, to anything that pops into his mind. Logan is all too willing to answer his questions, happy to lecture to someone who is excited to listen and learn, though Remus often interrupts in the middle of an explanation to ask another question, much to Logan’s annoyance. Still, he was simply happy Remus seemed to be adjusting well. He flinched less at sudden movements, occasionally initiated touch, occasionally quietly asked for some, which everyone was all too happy to give, no matter whom Remus asked. Usually, it was Janus, much to everyone’s surprise, and Patton’s slight disappointment. Though he was simply happy that Janus seemed to be reaching back, finally starting to let himself get attached and heal in a way he hadn’t seen from the naga.

 Roman, when not following Remus, liked to sit in the living area, reading, endlessly reading. Patton had dug into his art supplies, and found an unused sketchbook and pack of colored pencils, Roman literally bursting into tears when he gave them to him. Roman had hugged them to his chest as if they were the most precious things in the world, letting Patton wrap him in a hug, cooing softly as the kid cried himself out. He hadn’t let the sketchbook out of his sight since, carrying it everywhere like a child with their teddy bear, an almost desperate, breaking joy in simply owning something, having something private to call his. It broke his heart a little, how something so small that he took for granted could shatter Roman’s world so entirely.

 They were still skittish and quiet. They both still had moments of fear, moments of panic, they both still weren’t getting enough sleep, nightmares waking them, they both still clung to each other every moment they could, terrified to let each other out of their sights, afraid if they did, they would vanish. It was slow, and it wasn’t much, but it was progress, and it was there. They at least believed fully now in their own safety, knew that no one on board would ever hurt them, and were starting to reach out, just a bit, for help when it was all too much. It was amazing, really, how far just a little kindness went in earning trust.

 …

“Are you ready?” Roman asks, softly, a bit breathless, squeezing Remus’s hand tightly, nervousness pounding in his chest, clogging his throat.

 “No. Not even a little bit. Like, not at all.” He replies, trying to take a deep breath as he felt the ship shudder, touching down on land. Solid land. Actual land. Like, a planet.

 “Kiddos? You ok?” Patton asks, coming into the room from the hall, a small satchel slung over his shoulders, instantly taking in the tenseness of the two boys. “Logan’ll be out any moment, then we can head out!”

 “what if something goes wrong? What… what if we get separated? There’s crowds and people and-“

 “And I meant it when I said I would sink my fangs into anyone who wants to try something. I’ll be your chaperone for the day, pleasure to be at your service.” Janus interrupted, giving a flourishing bow and a small smirk, not missing how Remus’s shoulders untensed.

 “Indeed. Everything is locked down, and we may disembark whenever we like.” Logan states, coming down the hall from the control room, glancing over everyone once.

 “ok. Ok let’s do this.” Remus breaths, pulling Roman to his feet, following the others to the airlock. Logan types something into a panel on the side of the room, and it whirs to life, bay doors opening, a ramp descending to the ground, and Remus has to shield his eyes with his hand, because it’s so bright.

 He can feel Janus behind him, ready to reach out a hand to steady him, if he asks, not saying anything, patient, and he appreciates it. After a moment, his eyes adjust, and he feels the barest of breezes, and it takes everything in him not to sprint for the door and run as far and fast as he can. Instead, he slowly walks forward, down the ramp, Roman beside him, trembling, and he squeezes his brother’s hand tighter as they see the outside world.

 It’s a landing strip, but a small one, their ship seems to be one of only four others docked. There’s a building behind them, some kind of communication building for incoming ships, no doubt, and beyond that are houses that look to be made of some kind of stone. They can hear the shouts and sounds of the town, of a market, of life.

 But before them stretches an endless plain of knee high grass, that waves in the wind, a sweet, soft scent to it, no doubt blooming wildflowers or plants of some kind, and a sun is shining down, warm and soft and light, and Remus can’t help it as his legs give out from under him and he curls into the grass, feeling it tickle against his skin, breathing in the scent of wet earth, feeling it between his fingers, unable to stop the tremors that tear through him as a gasping sob escapes his lips.

 For the first time since they were stolen, he believes in his freedom. He feels Roman beside him, and pulls him close, clinging to him just as tight as Roman is now clinging to him, because they can’t believe this, their minds can’t process this, they have lost the capacity to understand this vast open space, this soft summer wind, this swaying of prairie grasses, they can’t do anything other than try and breathe, try and take it all in, try and imprint this in their minds forever, because some part of Remus still fears this is some absurd trap, and he will be ripped out of this absolute paradise any moment. He can’t go back to it, now, he can’t go back to a cell, after this.

 “You won’t. I won’t ever let that happen, I will fight anything that tries to put you in another cage.” Janus murmurs, and without hesitation, Remus reaches out, taking his hand without looking, just needing something, anything, to keep him tethered to this moment, otherwise he’ll slip back into a different one.

 It feels like hours later, when they finally untangle from each other, getting to their feet, though Remus is unable to tear his eyes away from the horizon, can barely stop himself from looking straight into the sun, just to prove to himself it’s really there, closing his eyes and letting his senses be overrun by the normalcy of it all.

 With his eyes closed, he could be anywhere. He could be home, chasing butterflies with Roman. They could be tussling in the field behind their house. They could be on one of their camping trips, they could be playing kickball during recess, they could be searching for fireflies and scouring the sky for shooting stars, crickets chirping softly in the distance as they made their own constellations and tales.

 It’s insane. The feeling of that gentle warmth against his skin, wind in his hair, against his face, grass against his legs, it’s utterly insane, and he can’t stop the tears from dripping down his face as he takes another shuddering breath in, and opens his eyes. Janus is standing two steps away, watching them carefully, though he’s giving them space, and something a bit sad is in his eyes.

 He remembers abruptly that Janus has been through this. He knows exactly what they’re going through, he must remember the day he stepped off that ship for the first time, must remember the overwhelming urge to just run as fast and far as he could, he must be lost in his own thoughts and memories.

 “you ok?” He asks softly, breaking Janus out of his reverie. The naga gives him a small, exasperated smile, tilting his head.

 “Last I checked, I was supposed to be asking you that question.” He narrows his eyes, about to point out that Janus had deflected instead of actually answering, but stops himself. If he doesn’t want to talk about, he won’t pry. Not about this. “We can go catch up with the others, if you like. It’s a fairly small settlement, but it is a bit of a stop over for out of the way travelers, so the market is fairly robust. I understand if that many people would be too overwhelming.”

 “No. I wanna… I would like to go. Just for a bit, anyway, I want…” I want to see that this is real, that it’s not just a dream, I want to touch things and hear languages and see other beings, is what Roman was going to say, he knows. Because he’s thinking it too, he’s endlessly curious, he wants to make the most of this time off the ship, he just wants to sit in the middle of ordinary, every day, hustle and bustle.

 “Alright. Stick close, and if you feel overwhelmed, tell me and I’ll find us somewhere quiet.” They both nod, following Janus past the building and into the town, into the market.

…

“Do you think they’d like this?” Patton asks, holding up a woven wall hanging, depicting a dragon sitting atop a shining castle. Logan sighs, looking at it.

 “I don’t know, Patton. You should simply ask them.” He’s slightly exasperated, this is about the twentieth thing Patton has asked him about, instead of asking the people he’s actually trying to buy for. Patton frowns, his gaze flicking farther down the market, where he can just pick out Janus’s shining scales as the siblings meander at their own pace, eyes wide, Janus making sure that everyone gives them space.

 “I would, Lo, but…” Patton sighs, refolding the tapestry and placing it back on the table. “But I think if I just ask them they’ll say no, because they don’t want to be a bother and spend our money. They don’t think they deserve things, Logan, and I don’t want to stress them out more by pressing them into making choices.”

 “You’re probably right, Patton. But if that is the case, you should start small. Too many gifts at once will be overwhelming. And no matter how you approach it, they are going to feel the need to somehow repay you. Perhaps we’ll pick up the essential supplies now, reconvene for lunch, and ask Janus what they seemed interested in, or kept returning to. That way they would have some input on what you did end up buying for them.” Patton’s wings fluff up as he smiles, gently bumping Logan.

 “You’re a genius. That may be the smartest idea I have ever heard!” He’s about to respond when he feels a draft, and suddenly Virgil materializes beside them, pulling them into an alley between two stalls.

 “Virgil. Is everything ok?” Logan asks, the wraith looking towards the mouth of the alley with a frown.

 “I don’t know. There’s someone following them. I haven’t been able to get a good look, they’re covered in a cloak and face mask, but whoever it is picked up on them once they entered the market.” Virgil’s form wavers, before he takes a deep breath and solidifies.  

 “Have they shown any signs of aggression?” Logan asks, dark eyes narrowed.

 “No. Not yet, but I don’t like them, Lo, they’re not good, I can feel it.”

 “Ok. We’ll-“ Patton was cut off by the sound of shouting, and with a curse, Virgil lost form, swirling shifting shadow, zooming out of the alley, Logan and Patton barely two steps behind.  

…

It happened so fast.

 One moment, they were lounging by the fountain, simply taking everything in, listening to the chatter of unknown languages, different species and races and cultures clashing in a symphony.

 The next Remus is growling, shoving Janus backwards, pouncing atop a stranger, a syringe flying from the being’s grasp, who has the air knocked out of him for a moment, before another arm emerges from under the cloak and stabs him in the leg with something. He can feel his vision hazing, his pulse racing, but he’s a human, and this alien clearly doesn’t understand what that means, because he expects him to go down easy.

 That’s a good joke.

 Instead he fights back, pins him down, bares his teeth, ready to rip out his throat, but he hears a noise behind him. He leaps to his feet, lunging back, shoving Roman and Janus behind him as another attacker appears out of the now fleeing, panicked, crowd, hissing as a dart finds its mark. He charges, tripping over his feet to do so, but it seems enough to scare off the second cloaked figure, who’s eyes widen behind his face covering, fleeing. He spins and sees the one he’d tackled scrambling away, vanishing into the crowd, and he hisses, lashing out at a touch of his shoulder.

 He’s in the cell.

 They’ve come for Roman, for the first time in weeks, they’ve come for Roman, and that isn’t good, isn’t right, and he won’t let it happen.

 He ignores the sedatives they stab into his him, ignores the stun batons spasaming his muscles, he screams and claws and punches and bites, becoming the feral beast they’ve always thought him to be, but eventually they manage to twist his arm back and pin it behind him, his legs finally going weak from the drugs, as they drag Roman away, his little brother still managing to smile at him, and he knows, knows, he is saying goodbye.  

 He won’t let them. He won’t let them take him.

…

“Remus.” Janus staggers back as Remus hisses, lashes out, sends him reeling backwards, cheek pounding in pain where Remus had hit him. Roman catches him, steadying him.

 “Jan!” Patton is at his side suddenly, gently removing his hand from his face, inhaling sharply at the bruise no doubt swelling his face.

 “I’m fine, Pat. It’ll heal.” He looks past Patton, to Remus, who’s eyes are clouded, body tensed and stiff, ready to fight, teeth bared in a feral grimace, chest rapidly rising and falling. “they were going after me. He shoved me out of the way.” Janus murmurs, trying to take a step towards Remus, but Patton stops him.

…

“Remus.” He hisses at that voice, it sounds like the scientist, it triggers his fight reflex, and he snarls, his vision flickering. One moment it’s dirt paths, blue sky, the next it’s harsh white, cold metal. It’s too much, it’s too muddled, and he can’t see, can’t think, he only knows it isn’t safe, and the world is lurching, spinning, and he won’t stop, because they will not take Roman. “Remus. Listen to me. None of us are going to hurt you. Do you recognize me?”

 His vision flickers. Dark eyes, crystal skin, tall and thin, familiar. Then it’s a full body suit, a mask, empty, biting voice, and he stumbles back, tripping against something, and he sinks to the ground, unable to stay upright anymore.

 He flinches back at touch, his vision coming in strobing flashes of moments. Logan, kneeling before him, saying something, eyes dilated and worried. The Scientist, grabbing his arms, pinning him down. Janus, face bruised and red, a pang of guilt because he knows he caused that, somehow. The guards, dragging him away. The campsite, a dart in his neck, crawling to Roman. That same dizzying feeling filling him now, and his panic spikes.

 He cries out, unintellegable, fear stricken, as his vision goes dark, then there’s a cold hand in his, and the fear vanishes, leaving him silent and content and empty, as he passes out.

…

Virgil inhales sharply through his teeth, struggling to keep his form intact, with the strong wash of fear and pain and panic and negativity filling him, that he’d taken from Remus, who was now peaceably passed out in Logan’s arms.

 Patton’s hand on his shoulder helps ground him, and with several deep breaths, he manages to push the tide back, exhale it out with every breath, until he’s solid once more.

 “-probably fine. We just need to get back to the ship and see what exactly they injected him with. It most likely was simply meant to incapacitate him, and should be able to be slept off.” He catches, Roman nearly in tears himself, feeling him on the edge of a panic attack.

 “Hey. He’ll be ok.” He manages, and Roman nods shakily.

 “ok. I… I trust you.” Roman replies shakily, letting Patton pull him into a hug, as Janus and Virgil take lookout, escorting them back to the ship.

[hedwigstalons]

High Expectations

This is a fic that I originally told myself I wouldn’t post any of until it was complete.   Evidently I lied.  It’s not complete but I do have 21k words and eight chapters built up already.  It was meant to be Gordon’s story of how he ended up in WASP but the other brothers have decided to put in an appearance too (I blame the boys and also @willow-salix​ for encouraging them)

I’ve also set myself a secondary challenge with this to produce a piece of art for each chapter.  I’m hoping to try out different styles and hopefully make some progress over time.  This first bit was very much about getting a feel for the tools (a challenge seeing as I first have to wrestle the drawing pad away from the small person who just likes being able to make rainbow glitter pictures)

Anyway....

xoxoxox

Summary: Jeff Tracy has very strong beliefs about what he expects from his sons.  Sometimes his expectations are at odds with what his sons themselves want from life, especially Gordon.  

Chapter One

The office was tiny, barely large enough for the single desk it contained.  It didn’t really matter.  This room no longer had a permanent resident. State wide cuts to the careers service and an investment in online guidance meant that careers advisors were stretched across districts; a few lonely individuals doing the rounds of the high schools to dispense reassurance and wisdom in statutory ten minute blocks.  As a consequence this area of the school hadn’t been refurbished in many years and had a general air of neglect.  The carpet tiles had been worn bald in a clear path to the two chairs in the room, one in front of the desk and one behind.  The painted cinderblock walls were covered in posters, bleached and faded by the California sun, bearing inspirational quotes.  

 You can do anything!

 Be the change you want to see

 Aim for the skies

 The posters mirrored the sentiments he had heard at home too many times.  Although at home they tended to come tinged with disappointment as he handed over yet another report card that didn’t meet the standard set by the siblings who had gone before.  Yale, Harvard and the Denver School of Advanced Technology had already accepted a Tracy.  Gordon just couldn’t match up to their lofty heights of academic success.  He was bright but that just got overshadowed by the glittering trio above him.  Anything he did had always been done better by at least one, but more often all, of his older brothers.  

 The pressure to achieve academic excellence had lessened slightly as his swimming training had ramped up in intensity.  As competitions progressed from local, to state, to national, to international the family had grown to accept that this was no passing hobby.  But Gordon still lived with the constant threat that he would be pulled out the pool if his grades dropped too low.  It was taking all his energy to keep on top of his school work to the required B- average insisted on by his father so that he could keep doing the one thing he felt truly good at.  The one thing that set him apart from his over-achieving brothers.

 At least the teachers didn’t judge him or at least couldn’t judge him against his more intellectual siblings.  As soon as John had graduated high school and started at Harvard, an accomplishment for which he was several years younger than the average after skipping a couple of grades, Jeff had moved himself and the youngest boys away from rural Kansas to Los Angeles.  The old farmhouse was retained but was no longer a permanent base for the family.

 The move to the city was a strategic decision by Jeff and one that was only delayed in order to allow John to complete his high school education without the disruption of an inter-state move.  For Jeff it meant the ability to site himself in the commercial heartlands expected of the business that was flourishing under his direction.  It also meant he was able to get back each night to care for his youngest children, even if he sometimes didn’t make it back to the apartment before midnight.

 It may have been expected that Jeff Tracy, an individual rapidly climbing the lists of America’s richest and most influential individuals, would have used the move as an opportunity to enrol his youngest sons in the finest educational establishment Los Angeles had to offer. But Jeff Tracy was a man raised in Kansas wheat fields.  A man for whom his own success and the successes of his eldest three sons had been built on the foundations of learning delivered in small town rural schools. What was good enough for him was good enough for all his children.  There were no private tutors or exclusive schools.  Gordon and Alan found themselves enrolled in the regular district school with its air of neglect and underfunding.

 A large part of Gordon really wanted to be back in his math class.  Not because he had any great fondness for the subject but because he found it hard in a way the others didn’t.  He was not above digging out Virgil’s old annotated English texts or Scott’s history files if he wanted a bit of extra insight for his essays but math was different. Any notes left by his siblings were generally an incomprehensible scrawl.  Not that any of them had made many math notes; they all seemed to just get it.  

 Gordon still remembered the first time after John had headed off to Harvard that he had called for help with his homework.  John had tried to be patient but there had been an unmistakeable tone of annoyance accompanied by a condescending eye roll clearly visible on the call screen.  Gordon had been left in no doubt that John found the idea of a Tracy struggling with algebra to be frankly insulting.  Virgil had displayed rather more patience and understanding but the pity that came with the help was too much for Gordon to take.  He didn’t want to find out what Scott’s reaction would be.  The golden haloed first-born was becoming increasingly distant and superior as his career in the Air Force progressed.  

 And so Gordon ploughed on alone.  Taking study guides to swim competitions to read between the heats.  Trying to juggle the conflicting demands of Team USA and Team Tracy.  The former striving for physical excellence and peak performance, the latter demanding excellence across the board.

 The careers advisor on the far side of the desk looked up at the young man sat opposite her.  The school records showed he was academically above average.  He had prospects.  

 The students that entered her office tended to fall into three broad categories.  There were the ones that didn’t really need their regulation advice session having already got their chosen career path mapped out, whether that involved furthering their education or just jumping straight into the local jobs market. There were those that were bewildered and clueless about where to turn next.  Then there were those that just didn’t seem to care and who drifted through her office much like they drifted through the rest of their school career. She wondered which she would encounter in this interview.

 “So Gordon” she smiled at the teenager, “have you considered what you want to do after you graduate high school?”

 The teen looked at her with a slightly surprised expression.

 “Swim, ma’am”  

 It was said bluntly and without preamble, accompanied by a mid-western politeness that the move to the city hadn’t shaken off. Stated as fact rather than as some hypothetical idea.  She had encountered plenty of teenagers with dreams of making it big on the sporting circuit but very few made it professional.  Usually the dreams were of football or basketball; swimming was a new one to add to her list.  

 “Swim?”

 “Yes ma’am, swim.  I’ve already got my qualifying time sorted.  Come the summer I’ll be at the Olympics.”

 Cogs clicked into place.  This was her nineteenth interview of the day and the students were beginning to blur together, even with the supplementary notes put together by the tutors that actually got to see these kids each day.  The low attendance scores suddenly made sense. Gordon Tracy, the rising star of the swimming circuit.

 “Of course.”  She flustered slightly over her notes.  It was a new experience to have a member of the Olympic squad sat before her. But she was obliged to be a sounding board for his career choice for the next ten minutes.  She couldn’t just send him back to class off the back of a one word answer.  She decided to stick to familiar territory; if they know the plan, find out the backup plan.

 “Have you considered what you will do after swimming? You have good grades here.  I’d recommend making a college application.”

 The youngster gave a hollow sort of chuckle. “Not good enough for anywhere that matters.  I think I’ll stick to what I’m good at, ma’am.”

 The interview was brought to a close by the final bell of the day and Gordon was glad to be able to scoop up his rucksack and escape the claustrophobic confines of the office.  He was sure the careers advisor meant well but he felt that the session was a pretty pointless experience.  Actually being in class would have been a better use of his time.

 As he reached the front of the school he spied Alan waiting for him in their usual spot.  The younger boy was scuffing his shoes in the dirt while waiting, the bored expression of his face breaking into smile when he saw his older brother.  They set off on the short walk back the apartment.

 “Good day, Al?”

 “Yeah, ok”

 “Much homework?”

 Alan grimaced.  He was about as fond of homework as Gordon was.

 “I’ll take that as a yes.  Well make sure you get on with it as soon as we get in.  No video games until it’s finished.”

 “Yes Sir!”  The response was accompanied by a mocking salute which earned Alan a gentle whack on the back of the head.

 “Hey, less of that.  I’m not Scott.  But seriously Al, just make sure you get it done.  I’ve got an extra training session tonight but only a short one; you’ll have the place to yourself until about 6.  I’ll sort us some dinner once I’m home.”

 “Will you be able to play video games with me once you’re back.”

 “Sorry, I’ll have my own work to get on with.”

 Alan’s shoulders slumped dejectedly and his feet dragged along the sidewalk.

 “Another quiet night then.”

 Gordon hated seeing Alan so flat.  The pair spent a significant amount of time together and, like all his brothers, he had a desire to protect the youngest.  He wrapped an arm around the shoulders of the shorter boy and was rewarded with a shove in the ribs.  Evidently anything even slightly resembling a hug in public was out this close to the school grounds.

 “I’ll see what I can do.”

 They had reached the apartment by this point. Gordon dashed inside to grab his swimming kit and left Alan with strict instructions to make sure he got all his homework done.  He didn’t like leaving Alan home alone but it was a regular occurrence now.  Their father wouldn’t be home for hours and with all the others moved away the youngest two had got used to fending for themselves.  He left Alan with a promise that they would spend some time together later.

 The training session passed in a blur of drills.  There were now more days with both morning and evening training in preparation for the Olympics and the extra workouts were taking their toll.  By the time Gordon reached the apartment his shoulders ached and all he wanted to do was stand under a scalding hot shower before collapsing in to bed.  Unfortunately he knew he had other responsibilities to attend to first.

 Gordon rolled his shoulders, plastered on a smile and scanned the entry system for the apartment.

 xoxoxox

 Normally weekday meals were Gordon’s domain or he was at least there to help out if Alan ventured into the kitchen.  But he had completed his homework quicker than expected and in the boredom of the empty apartment it had seemed like a good idea to start dinner.

 He took the pack of greens from the fridge, prodded the pan of pasta and gave the chicken a quick stir.  As he sliced the greens an acrid smell assaulted his nostrils.  The chicken, which had been cooking nicely until now seemed to have chosen the moment he took his eye off the ball to catch and stick to the bottom of the pan.  Carefully prepared strips of prime breast disintegrated and crumbled as he tried to scrape the dried out offerings from the base of the pan.  He cursed, turned out the stove, and went back to preparing the greens.  

 The clock ticked closer to 6pm.  Steam rose in billows from the pan of greens which had reached a rapid boil.  Perhaps he should have waited until Gordon was actually home before cooking the vegetables, the shredded leaves were starting to disintegrate.  

 At least the pasta should be ok.  

 The pasta which wasn’t boiling.

 More cursing filled the air as Alan realised his error. In his attempt to salvage the chicken he had turned off the heat under the pasta as well.  Perhaps he should have just let Gordon cook the whole thing. This was a mistake.  All he wanted to do was free up some time in the hope of getting a game in with Gordon and instead he had ruined everything.  He wondered if it was too late to dig out the emergency credit card and call for take out.  He would just have to make sure Dad took it out of his allowance rather than Gordon’s.

 The sound of the front door broke through his thoughts.

 “Hi Alan.”  The voice echoed up the hallway.  Footsteps approached, only pausing briefly as a kit bag was launched into a room, landing in a corner with a heavy thud.  Too late to salvage anything now, within moments Gordon was in the doorway.  “Hey, you cooked.  Thanks”

 “No need to sound so surprised.  Don’t thank me til you’ve tried it though.  It’s, um, not really gone to plan.”

 “I’m sure it’s fine.  Want me to drain these pans while you get the plates out?”

 Alan signalled his agreement by delving into the crockery cupboard leaving Gordon to drain and stir together the contents of the various pans.  He wasn’t exactly looking forward to the meal but Gordon seemed grateful to be spared the chore.

 Dinner was everything Alan expected it to be.  They sat opposite sides of the kitchen counter, Gordon shovelling down vast quantities of noodles while he picked at his own much smaller portion.  The meat was as dry as cardboard and stuck in his throat alongside the shards of undercooked pasta. Perhaps he ought to pay more attention in the kitchen, especially as Gordon was likely to be training more and more over the coming months.

 Gordon’s fork clattered onto the empty plate before Alan was even half way through.  He looked up to see eyes the colour of mahogany under the harsh kitchen lights looking at him with concern.

 “You ok?  You’ve hardly eaten.”

 “I’m fine.  Just wishing I’d ordered us a pizza instead.”  He waved a forkful of charred chicken to emphasise his point.

 This earned him a small chuckle and at least dispelled the worry.

 “Hey, no complaints from me over it.  I think my coach would have something so say about that too, we’ll save the pizza for the summer.  I’ll start clearing up while you finish off.  You still want that game?”

 Alan grinned.  Suddenly the pasta was a lot easier to stomach if there was a chance to thrash his brother in the goblin realms at the end of it.  

 xoxoxox

 As the clock ticked past midnight and into the small hours of the morning Gordon lay in the darkness, sleep refusing to come.  His normally comfortable bed felt too lumpy and he turned this way and that.  First facing the blank wall next to the bed, then the ceiling and finally the open room. A shelf of trophies glinted faintly in the light that managed to spill around the edges of the heavy blackout curtains.  Back in Kansas Gordon had rarely bothered closing his curtains; he had always been an early riser and was usually up long before the dawn in order to get to early morning training or fit in a gym session before school.  But the pervading yellow glow of the city from the ever present light pollution wasn’t like the peaceful moon.  On nights like this the city felt oppressive and he yearned for the open fields of home, as he still though of Kansas.  Gordon might now be able to access better training facilities and coaches which had enhanced his Olympic prospects but he had never embraced city life.

 He was exhausted.  The training session after school had been intense and he had thrown himself into the drills with maximum effort.  The gaming session had probably been a mistake but he hadn’t wanted to let Alan down.  The kid had gone to the trouble of trying to make dinner and save him a job.  Ok, the noodles had been still firm to the point of being slightly crunchy and the greens had been on the verge of turning to soup but it’s the thought that counts.  It was calories.  It was from his prescribed meal plan.  It was mostly edible.  He appreciated the level of consideration shown by a teenager who shouldn’t have any more pressing concerns than getting his chemistry paper completed and working out whether Ellen from World Studies class had a crush on him.

 His own homework had been its usual slog.  He wrote until his eyes became sticky and the notes he was reading became a jumbled blur.  Sleep should have enveloped him within minutes of climbing into bed but instead the words from his earlier interview kept churning around his head.  The thoughts drowning out even the gnawing ache in his overworked muscles.  

 What about after?

 He had always managed to stave these thoughts off before.  Whenever his father had made comments about future plans he has always managed to deflect the conversations.  He didn’t have room in his head for anything other than visualising the dream.  Why on earth should the words of a complete stranger, parroted from some state approved script, make life any different.

 He was a Tracy.  A name synonymous success and achievement.  He had found his calling in a way that set him apart from the others.  

 He was going to swim.

 He was going to represent his country.

 He was going to win.

 He ran through the visualisation that had been a constant companion in his head for years.  He could feel the flow of the water over his body as his muscles flexed in perfect synchronicity.  He could hear the roar of the crowd as the results flashed up on the scoreboard.  He rode the wave of emotion as the medal was presented.  This was the moment that would mark him out as more than just the fourth son of an astronaut.  Gordon Cooper Tracy.  A name in his own right.

 With the sound of the national anthem still ringing in his ears Gordon tried to visualise the next steps.  He tried to force the dream beyond its current conclusion but instead found only darkness.  

[vampiregirl1797]

Hopeless: Chapter Eight

Klaus Mikaelson x OC 

Warning: SMUT in this chapter so 18+ ONLY

GIF Not Mine

Click Here For Masterlist

The day after I was bitten was spent with me in bed, re-gathering my strength. I spent most of the day sleeping and drinking the cups of blood Klaus had bought up for me. I assumed he had compelled the staff to bleed into them for me, but I didn’t say anything, grateful that he was being so thoughtful. I was even more surprised every time I opened my eyes, because Klaus was there without fail. I don’t know if he ever actually left the room, and part of me was afraid to ask because if he hadn’t I didn’t want to consider what that meant. Or rather, what I hoped it could mean. I refused to focus on the fact that my stomach had filled with butterflies, and my heart had squeezed whenever his blue eyes had greeted me when I woke up from my slumber. That day passed by quickly and before I knew it night had fallen and I was dozing off yet again.

When I woke the next morning, I jolted up with a start when I heard something banging from the floor below. It sounded like someone had just been thrown into a wall. I listened for a moment longer and realised it was Klaus having a spat with one of his men. With that I relaxed, knowing the wolf in him assured he asserted his dominance over those who worked for him as often as possible. I threw the covers off me and tentatively asked the maids to bring the bath in—I was desperate to wash off the dried sweat and blood that had gathered on my skin all of yesterday and a few hours of the day before. When I slipped into the pleasantly warm bath I realised that Katherine would be arriving in two days.

 It’s fine. She’ll be here for three days and probably won’t be anywhere near you during that time. You just need to lay low and keep an eye on her to assure she doesn’t escape.

 The scents that had been added to the bath helped soothe me as well as the temperature. I felt like I was lying in a meadow with the smell of roses, lilies and jasmine that were emanating from the water. I took my time, lying there until the water ran cold and then I quickly washed my hair before getting out. After dressing in a loose red dress I tied my hair up with the hair tie that had thankfully been around my wrist when I had gotten here. Once it was secure I decided to make my way out of the room to find out what everyone else was up to, and maybe convince Klaus to do something fun—Katherine would be here soon and I wanted to make the most of her absence. Elijah was nowhere to be found, but after focusing my hearing I managed to locate Klaus in the room next door to his chambers. I tentatively knocked on the door, wondering what he could have been doing.

 ‘Come in,’ his voice was soft and I wondered if it was because he knew it was me knocking. I shook that thought away and opened the door before stepping inside.

 ‘Wow.’ I breathed, I don’t know what I had been expecting but this definitely wasn’t it.

 The room was full of paintings. Some were of landscapes, others of people and objects. A few were still unfinished and on easels but even I, a complete art novice, could tell they were going to be wonderful when they were finished.

 ‘Not the reaction my presence usually gets but I’ll take it,’ he teased, drawing my attention back to him. I could read the shyness in his eyes; I assumed allowing me to see his artwork was something that made him feel vulnerable.

 ‘Did you paint all of these?’ I asked quietly, my feet carrying me over to the landscape painting on the far wall. It was a picture of a meadow illuminated by moonlight. I couldn’t explain it but I felt like I could step into that painting and feel as calm and serene as I did looking at it.

 ‘I did.’ He murmured, coming to stand beside me.

 ‘They’re incredible. I had a feeling that the paintings around the house were yours.’ I admitted, not taking my eyes off the painting.

 ‘You’d be the first.’ I could hear the surprise in his voice, but I didn’t comment on it.

 ‘You have a gift, Klaus.’ My hand came up to touch the painting, following the bumps of the paint that detailed the flowers and the grass, ‘you should have galleries of your own all over the world. Why don’t you?’

 I looked over to him when I was met with silence and saw that he was frowning and deep in thought, probably thinking over whether he could tell me something. I didn’t say a word, wanting him to think it over on his own and by the looks of it; he was thinking it over very thoroughly.

 ‘You’ve shared so much with me since you’ve been here.’ He murmured and for a moment I wondered if he’d spoken aloud without realising it, ‘the least I can do is tell you about The Destroyer.’

 ‘I have been wanting to ask, but I sensed that you’d rather I didn’t.’ I admitted with a sheepish smile.

 ‘You sensed correctly. The Destroyer is also known as Mikael or rather, my father.’ My draw dropped open in shock from his words.

 ‘Your father is hunting you?’ I continued when he offered a grim nod, ‘why?’ I remembered Elijah telling us about how his mother was unfaithful and that was why Klaus was half werewolf, but I couldn’t recall all the details, I’d mainly retained the details of the ritual.

 ‘Well, that’s a long complicated story.’ He smiled as he repeated my words from a few days ago.

 ‘If you want to tell me, I’d love to hear it.’ I murmured back.

 So he did. He told me about how his mother had cheated on Mikael and the result had been him. No one had known of his true lineage, no one except Ester, until they had been turned into vampires and Klaus had triggered his werewolf gene with his first kill. He told me how his mother had preformed a ritual to supress his wolf side in an effort to make her discretion up to Mikael, he told me how he had tore his mothers heart out afterwards—a fit of rage had overcome him when she had called him her “greatest shame”. At that my hand had found his in a way of offering comfort; no mother should be anything less than proud of her son. He told me how his siblings believed Mikael had killed her and how Mikael had vowed to kill Klaus in a bid to rid the world of the “abomination” that he was. He told me how they had spent their immortal lives running from him, never able to settle down due to the fear of him finding them.

 Just like he had a few days ago, I had to take a moment to digest everything he told me and honestly I was disgusted. Disgusted in his parents for failing all of their children, especially Klaus. He deserved better, how could Mikael be mad at Klaus for something that was beyond his control—Ester had been the one who had the affair, shouldn’t she be held responsible?  As for him killing her, I couldn’t deny that I understood where he was coming from. He had told me he couldn’t understand the pain from losing a parent and now I understood why, because his parents hadn’t been parents. I understood why his paintings weren’t in galleries and being talked about by everyone, because he and his siblings couldn’t draw attention to themselves. They weren’t living.

 ‘I’m sorry.’ I said after a while, breaking the silence that we had lapsed into when he had finished his story.

 ‘For what, love?’ he frowned, confused.

 ‘For the miserable excuses for parents you got stuck with. You deserve better.’ I told him honestly, squeezing the hand I was still holding.

 ‘Thank you,’ he whispered so quietly that I almost didn’t dear him.

 It hit me then; no one else knew of what he had done to Ester, and so he hadn’t had acceptance from someone that had all the facts in a long time. I realised that he needed to hear that; he needed to know that he wasn’t completely at fault for the events that had been thrown upon him and his family.

 He cleared his throat and released my hand to move over to the painting he had been working on when I walked in. He had barely started on it yet, so there was no telling what it was going to be.

 ‘Was there something you wanted?’ he asked, clearly trying to lead the conversation into a much more unemotional topic.

 ‘Actually yes.’ I smiled, walking over to him with my hands behind my back, ‘I was wondering if you could do me a favour.’

 ‘Consider me intrigued. What can I do for you?’ He smirked, his eyes dancing with amusement.

 ‘Well seeing as tomorrow will be spent preparing for Katherine and she will be here the day after that, I was hoping you could give me today.’ I held my hands out as if that would convince him.

 He looked up from his painting to fix me with his stare; it was both amused and surprised. But for whatever reason, he was also hesitating.

 ‘Come on, show this twenty first century girl the best things that the fifteenth century has to offer.’ I tried to pout to get him to cave, but his laughter implied I wasn’t successful, ‘Klaus!’

 ‘Alright.’ He managed to contain his laughter after a few attempts, though my irritated look almost caused his effort to wain, ‘I’d be more than happy to show you everything that the world has to offer, Evangeline, but I suppose for now we’ll have to settle for fifteenth century England.’

 I felt my heart skip a beat at the implication, but I managed to gather myself and take his offered arm. I couldn’t contain my excitement as I followed him out of the house; I was getting the opportunity to experience the way life was lived before I was born and I was looking forward to it. When he led me to the carriage the caskets had travelled in I smiled in bemusement.

 ‘Where are we going?’ I asked after I tried and failed to overhear his words with the man leading the horses.

 ‘We’re not that far outside London. I thought you’d like to see it.’ He commented casually, but he smiled when I couldn’t contain my excited squeal.

 ‘It’s going to be weird going back to my time.’ I mused, staring at the passing scenery, ‘I’m getting used to life here.’

 ‘When do you have to go back?’ I looked over to him when I heard his melancholic tone.

 ‘After the ritual.’ I smiled sadly when he frowned, ‘can I admit something to you without you thinking I’m completely selfish?’

 ‘Of course.’ He smiled a little and expectantly waited for me to elaborate.

 ‘Part of me doesn’t want to go back.’ I looked back out of the window, not wanting to see the disappointment in his eyes, ‘for the first time I’m not waking up everyday thinking about what I need to do for everyone else. Well aside from planning for the ritual, but it’s not the same. It doesn’t consume the whole day, and I’m doing stuff for me, I’m doing what I want to do for the first time in the longest time. Does that make me selfish?’

 His hand reached into my lap to entwine our hands together. I felt the familiar warmth from his touch spread up my arm and it caused me to look over to him. When I looked into his eyes I didn’t see the disappointment or disgust I thought would be present after my confession. His expression was soft, affectionate even.

 ‘It doesn’t make you selfish to want to do what makes you happy. If those in your life truly care about you and love you like I think they do, your happiness will matter to them, Evangeline. You do not need to sacrifice that for others—they wouldn’t want you to and most importantly, living for everyone else isn’t living.’

 ‘Thank you,’ my voice was barely above a whisper, because I didn’t trust it not to break with emotion at a louder volume.

 ‘Of course.’ He flashed his dimpled smile and leaned forward to place a kiss to my cheek.

 He lingered and all I could think about was how the skin he had kissed was tingling pleasantly. Klaus pulled back a little, but only far enough to allow him to stare into my eyes. I didn’t know what he was looking for, but he must have found it through the lust I could feel on my face as his gaze flickered to my lips before he leant forward, closing the gap so that there was a mere inch between us. Knowing he was waiting for me to make the final move, I didn’t waste any time and pressed my lips to his. This kiss was different from the last one we shared. That was inspired by lust and an animalistic hunger. This was softer and more emotional; the affection we had for one another was clear, an aspect that had been absent in the woods. We didn’t know each other well then; both of us had been looking for a release. But now I could feel the way he cared for me from the gentleness of his lips moving against mine, from the way he caressed the side of my face while his other hand was tightly grasping mine. I had never been kissed this way before and it was overwhelming in the best possible way. It felt like he was worshipping me, treating me is if I were the most important thing in the world to him. I knew that couldn’t possibly be true, but I couldn’t deny how cared for he was making me feel in that moment.

 I don’t know how long we were kissing for, but eventually we pulled apart, both of us a little breathless. We shared a look before he placed a kiss to my forehead and we resumed the journey in comfortable silence. It was in that moment that the feelings I had been repressing, or rather ignoring, for the hybrid came back full force and I realised… I was in love with him. That was definitely not a part of the plan.

 Xxx

 It didn’t take much longer for us to reach London and when we did I was practically vibrating with excitement. Klaus chuckled at me as he helped me down from the carriage, linking my arm with his as he started leading me through the streets. The cobbled streets were incredibly narrow, so much so that I wondered how carriages managed to fit through them. The buildings were built of brick and wood and I couldn’t help but stare in fascination at how different they were to the buildings in the twenty first century. My eyes greedily drunk in every detail, the bread, cloths, jewellery and fruits that were being sold on different carriages. The sounds of horses’ hooves against the cobbled roads, the sounds of men shouting in a bid to entice customers, the sounds of people merrily chatting amongst themselves.

 ‘You know, I’ve been to London many times over the centuries and each time I find myself amazed by the culture,’ Klaus mused from beside me. I looked over to him only to find his gaze already fixed on me.

 ‘Is it one of your favourite destinations?’ I wondered, curious—a man who had been alive for so long must have seen everything; I wanted to know what his favourite was.

 ‘Before we came back to England, Paris was my favourite place to visit,’ his stare turned affectionate, ‘but recent developments have me changing my mind.’

 I blushed and glanced down, unable to hold his stare due to the intensity behind it. His thumb brushed over the knuckles of the hand that rested in the crook of his arm. I smiled a little and looked back up at him.

 ‘I’ve never really travelled anywhere, but I think England is always going to be my favourite.’ And I honestly did; I would always cherish that moment with him.

 He smiled softly and placed a kiss to my forehead before leading me further down the street as he continued to talk.

 ‘I’ll take you,’ his dimpled smile greeted me when I looked over to him in surprise, ‘anywhere you wanna go.’

 My heart leaped in my chest and my stomach filled with butterflies, but I forced it down. I shook my head as a light laugh tumbled from my lips, ‘as enticing as that sounds, you know you’re going to forget about me as soon as I leave.’

 I started when he pulled me to a stop in the middle of the street, his hand came up to caress the side of my face and I couldn’t help but lean into his touch.

 ‘Evangeline—,’ I couldn’t help my irritated frown when whatever he had been about so say was cut off by me being shoved from behind. I was pushed into his chest and the intense stare that had been on his face a moment before fell into anger. His eyes tried to find the culprit over my shoulder, but they were long lost in the bustling crowds.

 ‘I’ve seen London,’ I murmured, drawing his attention back to me, ‘what else is there to see, Lord Klaus?’ I smiled when he smirked at my teasing.

 ‘Not so much of what to see, but more what to do.’ He said ominously, leading me back to the carriage that had bought us here.

 Xxx

 ‘Okay, I might have been good at the sword fighting activity…’ I trailed off as my eyes flickered between the crossbow and the smirking hybrid a few feet from me, ‘but there is no way I’m gonna be able to do this.’

 ‘Patience, love.’ I didn’t need to look at him to know he was smirking at me.

 I took the stance he had shown me again, my right foot forward, with my left hand holding the crossbow. I made the arrow match up with the apple Klaus had nailed to the tree in front of me earlier—it was my target. I growled when I missed it again. It didn’t even hit the tree!

 ‘I refuse to let archery beat me!’ I muttered, picking up another arrow but when it missed I looked over to Klaus, arching my brow at his amusement, ‘what am I doing wrong?’

 ‘Don’t close one eye when you take your aim, use both eyes to line up the arrow with the target.’ He stepped over to me and placed his hand on the arm that was holding the crossbow, ‘and your arm isn’t straight, it needs to be lower.’ He moved it into the correct position before standing back and nodding for me to give it a shot.

 I took a second to let the tingles that lingered on my arm from his touch to fade. After I took a deep breath, I was ready and I lined up the shot and released the arrow. When it went straight through the apple I couldn’t have stopped my grin if I tried.

 ‘Just call me a professional archer.’ I cracked my knuckles after placing the bow down.

 Klaus chuckled and shook his head fondly, which made my cheeks darken with colour. I cleared my throat and offered him a bright smile when he looked over to me, his dimpled smile still playing on his lips and I couldn’t help but be hypnotised by them for a second before my eyes flickered up to his.

 ‘Now I’ve mastered archery,’ I smiled a little when he chuckled at my exaggeration, ‘what else should I try?’

 He just sent me a devilish smirk.

 Xxx

 ‘You’re joking,’ I sent him a look that was a mixture of amused and unsurprised.

 ‘Of course not, this is a tradition around these parts, love.’ He grinned and started stripping off his clothes.

 ‘Right. And seeing me naked is of no interest to you.’ I raised a brow.

 He simply kept his grin in place and continued stripping. I turned my back when he started to remove his pants and shook my head when he chuckled. Apparently something to do in the fifteenth century was “strip and swim” in the river close to the Mikaelson property. I personally thought he had other motives.

 ‘You don’t need to turn around, love.’ A small gasp escaped when I felt him directly behind me, his hands rested on my waist and pulled me against his chest, ‘I don’t mind.’

 ‘For someone who singlehandedly took on a werewolf, I would have thought you’d be braver.’ He commented and I spun around to retort against my better judgement, only he wasn’t behind me when I did.

 I heard the unmistakable splash of water and looked over to see him sending me a mocking wave. I rolled my eyes and crossed my arms over my chest.

 ‘Give me one reason as to why this is a good idea.’ I murmured, fighting down the insecurity that was trying to claw its way to the surface. I expected him to give me a funny answer, but he must have read the reluctance on my expression, because his next words were serious and soft.

 ‘Because we only have today, Evangeline,’ his expression was forlorn, ‘and I’d like to make the most of it while we still can, as we both know when you fix what you came here to fix, you’re never going to want to see me again.’

 I looked away from his gaze for a second before turning back to him and gesturing, ‘turn around.’ His expression became amused before he complied with my instruction.

 In that moment I was grateful for my vampire speed as I stripped off my clothes and added them to his pile. I flashed into the water and came to a stop behind him. With a hand on his shoulder, I turned him around and lowered my guard so he could read the sincerity behind my next words.

 ‘What you said isn’t true.’ I smiled sadly, ‘I told you before, a part of me doesn’t want to go back to my time and that isn’t because I prefer this century. It’s because of you. It’s because you make me happy and you make me feel alive. It’s not that I won’t want to see you again, it’s that you’re going to forget about me when I’m gone. And why wouldn’t you? You’ve lived for four hundred years already and in another six hundred you’re not going to remember my name, never mind my face. And I don’t expect you to. But I’m grateful that I got to know you now and… I’ll never forget my time here and I definitely won’t forget you.’

 I took a deep breath to stop the tears in my eyes from falling and forced a smile to my face. I nodded, pleased that I’d finally said what I wanted to say, well aside from the fact that I was in love with him. But that could wait until the last day, so I didn’t have to feel my heart break when he didn’t say it back. His index finger came to my chin and gently forced me to meet his gaze. The expression that greeted me was softer than I had ever seen it, and his eyes were also shining with tears.

 ‘I will never forget you, Evangeline. You’re unlike anyone I have ever known. You’re brave, smart, empathetic, kind, compassionate, determined and beautiful. You came here to destroy me and rather than sending yourself home when your plan failed, you stayed and offered an alternative idea to save your family and friends and to rid me of a curse that I have had to live with for almost five hundred years. Despite what I have done to you, you’ve not treated Elijah or I with disdain or hatred, which we most likely rightfully deserve. I don’t want you to go, but I know you have to.’ His thumb ran along my bottom lip before his hand came to caress the side of my face, ‘I can’t promise you that we will find each other in the future, but I give you my word that if we do… I will never let you go again.’

 The tears I had fought so hard to keep at bay were streaming uncontrollably down my face. Klaus’ other hand came up to my free cheek and his thumbs wiped the moisture away. His forehead rested against mine and I once again found myself hypnotised by his tantalising red lips.

 I could feel his gaze on me, warming me from the inside out and my eyes met his for a moment, both of us sharing a look of lust and affection before we moved towards each other at the same time. Our kiss was charged with promise and passion that made me want to stay in this moment forever, in the stream in the middle of the woods where none of our problems could reach us. It was just me and him being consumed by each other. My hands slid from his shoulders and up to his shoulder length hair, tangling in the curls and bringing pressing his mouth harder against mine. Neither of us broke from the kiss when his hands went to my waist and lifted my legs to wind around his hips. He walked us out of the water and laid me on the bank not far from where our clothes rested.

 I removed my hands from his hair and allowed them to feel the skin of his shoulders, his arms, and his back. My own skin burned under his touch as he caressed my waist, stomach and legs. I moaned when his touch moved to my breasts, kneading them gently. His lips moved from my lips to the crook of my neck, nipping and sucking. When he found the spot behind my ear, my back arched without my consent. I felt his grin against my skin, but I couldn’t find it in myself to be annoyed by his arrogance in that moment, if anything it made me hotter.

 When his hand moved in the direction of my core I stopped him by grabbing his wrist. Klaus’ eyes met mine and I could see the uncertainty in them, but I reassured him with a soft smile. I knew my eyes were burning with my desire for him.

 ‘I need you, Klaus.’ I murmured, hoping he understood that in that moment I didn’t want to take our time, I wanted him; I needed him then and there.

 His hesitation disappeared and the smile that lit up his face was a mixture of desire and pleasure. When he took position and prepared himself to enter me, my hands returned to his shoulders, my nails digging into his skin as he slid inside at a pace slow enough to make me moan. We paused when he completely filled me, both of us appreciating the feeling of us being joined together, of us finally taking this step with one another, before he started to move. The pace was slow and I can honestly say I have never felt such a strong connection like I felt as we moved together, staring into each other’s eyes with our bodies working as one. It was as if we had been intimate a hundred times before. I’ve never known such chemistry, such compatibility with anyone. It was both terrifying and exhilarating. We reached the end together, my nails scraped down Klaus’ back hard enough to break the skin. His hands gripped my waist hard enough to bruise. His forehead fell to my chest and my head fell to the grass underneath me. My hands went to his hair and his wrapped around me as we both collected our composure and waited for our breathing to return to normal.

 I found myself hoping as I lay there, surrounded by Klaus’ comforting scent and warmth that we would cross paths in the future. Because I was certain if we found each other, I wouldn’t want him to let me go either.

 Xxx

 ‘Niklaus, there you are!’ Elijah’s voice caused the both of us to look over to him. I ignored his arched brow when he noticed our joined hands.

 ‘Well, brother, you found me.’ Klaus smirked, his eyes glittering with mischief.

 ‘We have things to prepare—,’ the elder Mikaelson was cut off by Klaus raising his free hand.

 ‘Please, Elijah, not today. We have all of tomorrow to make preparations for the doppelgänger’s arrival.’ Klaus waved him off and stepped around Elijah, pulling me with him.

 I pretended not to notice Elijah’s apparent suspicion with Klaus brushing off what he usually treated as an important matter. To diffuse the tension I could feel growing in the room I decided to leave the brothers for a moment, using the excuse of needing to get ready for dinner. Neither bought it, but they didn’t say anything. Before I could completely leave them in the living area, Klaus pulled me back to him and placed a chaste kiss on my lips that caught me by surprise. By the time I recovered, Klaus had a smug grin on his lips and I just left them both after I rolled my eyes and desperately tried to suppress my own smile.

 As I closed the door to my chambers I couldn’t shake the foreboding feeling that threatened to overcome me. It reminded me that the closer I got to Klaus, the harder it was going to be to potentially lose him when everything was over. I knew what he said in the water, but the insecure neurotic side of me was telling me that while he may mean his words now, six hundred years could change a lot. He could be with someone else, he could never find me again, and as much as he denied the possibility, he could forget me.

 I shook away my depressing thoughts and comforted myself with the fact that we had right now. I had these moments, these memories to treasure forever even if he never found me again, even if he forgot me, the way if felt for him… it was worth it.

 Klaus’ POV

 I couldn’t wipe the grin off my face. Evangeline was exquisite, but it wasn’t the new level of intimate that we had reached that was responsible for my good mood, though that was certainly a part of it. It was her confession, when she said that I made her happy and made her feel alive. She didn’t want to go home because of me. As I sat at her bedside when she was recovering from her wolf bite, I suspected then that my affection for her was more than me fancying her, but the elation I had felt this afternoon after her admission made me certain. I was in love with her.

 ‘You seem to be in a particularly good mood.’ Elijah’s comment pulled me out of my thoughts. When I realised what he said, my grin only grew.

 ‘Do I?’ I wondered over to the alcohol and poured myself a cup, hiding my smirk behind it.

 ‘Yes. And it doesn’t take a genius to put two and two together.’ Elijah mused, his eyes flickering to the door Evangeline had left through and back up to me, ‘you care for her quite a bit don’t you?’

 ‘I don’t believe that’s any of your business, brother.’ The happiness disappeared from my expression to be replaced with anger and warning.

 ‘You definitely care for her. I would even say you love her.’ Elijah wasn’t one to be deterred by my anger. I knew he was baiting me, carefully selecting his words and observing my reaction.

 After five hundred years together, Elijah knew me better than anyone. It was both a blessing and a curse. When I didn’t say anything in response to his words, I could tell that he had figured it out before he even spoke.

 ‘You do love her.’ He realised, his eyes flickering over the tight grip I had on my cup and the annoyance in my eyes, ‘while I’m happy for you, brother, I must warn you about the danger of losing sight of your goal.’

 His confusion was clear when I laughed. I subdued my amusement when his puzzlement transformed into frustration.

 ‘Trust me brother, Evangeline is the last person who will distract me from my goal.’ I smiled knowingly but I refused to elaborate. Evangeline had told me that he didn’t betray me, but I didn’t want anyone to know where she truly came from.

 Evangeline and I being the only ones who knew, it gave us power over what could be changed. If Elijah knew, he would want to save Katarina and he would want to make sure that she didn’t have to be on the run for the next five hundred years.

 However, I had a plan to make sure that Katarina followed the same path that she took to bring her into Evangeline’s life. The doppelgänger needed to run from me in order to meet the Salvatore brothers, because one of them was responsible for keeping her sister alive. And Katarina needed to go to Evangeline’s town to assure that she turned her. I would of course have eyes and ears on her at all times and when she had fulfilled her purpose I would grant her her freedom. Apparently Elijah would take a liking to her, and I wouldn’t stand in his way longer than necessary. Provided my brother wasn’t getting on my nerves at that point in time.

 I idly registered that Elijah left the room as I finished my drink and poured another—he knew better than anyone that if I didn’t want to reveal information, trying to get it would be a waste of time. It appeared whatever he had needed to tell me about the doppelgänger wasn’t important after all. I drank what was left in my glass with one gulp and quickly poured myself another. After focusing for a moment, I could hear Evangeline was in her chambers and the sounds assured me she was getting ready for dinner. I hoped she hadn’t been listening to our conversation.

 It wasn’t that I didn’t want her to know, it was that I was afraid of what would happen if she did. I hadn’t been in love with anyone for a long time. The first girl I had been interested in was Tatia. She had been beautiful, seductive and manipulative. She had played my brother and I against each other successfully for a long time, but in the end we recognised the sacred bond of family. Giving her up hadn’t been that difficult because I hadn’t been in love with her.

 Then we became vampires.

 After ten years constantly running we decided to settle for a while in a castle in England. We had taken the place of those we had killed. It was there that I met her. Aurora. At first I had been consumed by her beauty and it had blinded me from her faults. She was selfish, cruel and vindictive. But I didn’t realise that until it was time for us to leave, when Mikael found us again. I had asked her to flee with us and she laughed in my face and told me that now she had what she wanted, she wasn’t going to live her immortal life on the run. And as soon as the words had left her mouth, I saw her time together but through eyes that weren’t blinded with love and infatuation. Thanks to my epiphany, I was able to cut ties with her and that is the only time I’ve ever been grateful that Mikael forced us to flee.

 Since then, women had been nothing more to me than food and pleasure. At least until a week and a half ago, when I came across Evangeline in the woods. When I found out that she had come here to kill me, I should have ended her life then and there. But I didn’t. I still couldn’t say why. Something about her bravery and defiance intrigued me. She had known who I was and what I was capable of and yet even when she tried to run from me, she refused to let an ounce of fear show on her face. From there my interest had grown into affection and love. And I was absolutely terrified.

[vexvamp]

'Cause every night I lie in bed The brightest colors fill my head A million dreams are keeping me awake I think of what the world could be A vision of the one I see A million dreams is all it's gonna take A million dreams for the world we're gonna make

-----

This art was made to go with my Lion Guard fan theory, which you can read below. Kion was drawn by me, but the background is made up of screenshots from the show.

The following is my fan theory/AU/headcanon, which I came up with to fit the Lion Guard show into the universe of the films. Extra info can be found in the description here . ----- Kiara and Kion were born to King Simba and Queen Nala, shortly after the death of their elder brother, Kopa, and the subsequent exile of Zira and her Outlanders. Though born from the same litter, the two of them couldn't have been more different. While feisty Kiara grew strong and healthy, little Kion struggled just to stay alive. He was weak, grew slowly, and was quick to fall ill. Kion was suffering from something the Pride Lander's called the Fading Sickness, which we know instead as an immunodeficiency disorder. No amount of Rafiki's healing mixtures could cure it, and Simba and Nala prayed to the Great Kings that their son would not go to join his grandfather among the stars. Kion's illness persisted from infancy to cubhood. He was smaller than his sister, underdeveloped, and spent most his time confined to Pride Rock. While Kiara began to explore the Pride Lands, Kion was rarely allowed outside for fear that he would catch sickness or overexert himself. Tensions grew between him and his sister, as Kiara secretly wished that she had a sibling who she could actually play with, while Kion resented the fact that she had all the freedoms he didn't. This would eventually culminate in Kiara wondering into the Outlands and meeting Kovu, and this was enough to shock Simba into action. He asked Nala's brother, Mheetu and his mate to move closer to Pride Rock with their two daughters, so that Kiara would have other cubs her age to play with. Kiara found her cousins, Tiifu and Zuri, a bit hard to relate to, but it was still a better alternative to playing by herself. Kion, on the other hand, usually found himself alone. His parents tried their best to spend time with him, but fear of causing him stress combined with the previous loss of Kopa meant that they often treated him as though he was made of glass. This would create a rift in their relationship and make Kion feel as though he couldn't really connect with them. The isolation, and the fact that he was often too tired to even walk the length of the cave, were wearing away at Kion's mind. The young cub was slowly slipping into a deep depression. It was Rafiki, the healer who was often called to help Kion when he fell ill, that began to tell Kion stories. Legends of the Pride Lands, stories of Kion's ancient ancestors, and tales of all the creatures he never got to see in the outside world. Among those stories were those of the Lion Guard, the band of lions which patrolled the Pride Lands and helped protect the Circle of Life. It was hoped that Kion himself might one day lead them, but his illness was making this seem less and less likely. Still, it gave Kion cause to dream. He fantasized about it as he stared at the paintings Rafiki drew for him on the walls of the cave, and through these fantasies he found an escape. He made friends from the characters on the walls, and envisioned himself as their leader. The birthmark on his shoulder became the Mark of the Guard, and his weak, fragile body was forgotten as he fantasized about his imagined power, the Roar of the Elders. The Roar was part of the legend of the first Guard and their leader, who was said to have a roar so powerful that it was as if all the lions of days past roared with him. Kion turned this legend into something fantastical and grand, imagining himself possessing a power so great it wouldn't matter that he was smaller and weaker than other cubs. These daydreams occupied him, his imaginary friends filling the blank spaces in his life, and he spent his days lost in fantasy as the powerful lion he could never be in the real world. Kion's health had its ups and downs over the years, but as he approached adolescence, he suddenly contracted an illness that he couldn't seem to recover from. His body raged with fever, and the young lion slipped into a near comatose state, lost somewhere between sleep and waking, with the illness pulling him ever closer towards oblivion. In this state his fantasies grew violent, with visions of fiery demons in volcanoes and a scar which corrupted his soul. As Kion's condition worsened, it was decided that he would be taken to Rafiki's tree, closer to the store of healing herbs and away from other lions that might transmit further infection. In his brief moments of consciousness, Kion pulled bits of the real world into his tumultuous fever dreams. Rafiki's tree became the Tree of Life, and paintings on the walls became part of his adventure to reach it. Through Rafiki's treatments, Kion would eventually be saved, but he was still confined to the tree when Kiara first reunited with Kovu, and during the final battle with Zira. He wasn't there to see his sister's wedding, but Kiara and Kovu came to visit him afterwards. Kion tried to be gracious, but couldn't help but feel envious of the happy life his sister was living. He was small, sick, and weak. With only a scrap of mane, he looked much younger than he really was. What lioness would have him? So once again he retreated into his fantasies, crafting a love interest for himself and imagining a happy ending to his story. Kion would return to Pride Rock shortly afterwards, unsure of where his place was in this new, blended pride. Worst of all was what came next, when Kovu's sister, Vitani approached Simba and Nala about the Lion Guard. The current Guard had no formal leader, and was made up of lions who were growing older and getting ready to retire. It was a Guard only in name, without the deep-seated traditions of those led by the relatives of the royal family. As the sister of the new Prince Consort, Vitani put forward that she could lead a new Lion Guard. After the death of her mother, she had found herself feeling a bit hopeless and lost, and thought perhaps this could be her new purpose in life. After all, Kion was far too sickly and weak to have any hope of forming his own Guard, so why not her? Simba said he would think about it, and Nala said that they should talk it over with their son. The king and queen saw sense in what Vitani was saying, thinking it might be a chance to really cement the Outlander's loyalty, but Kion was horrified by the suggestion. Although he knew his health made it unlikely, Kion had always dreamed of leading the Guard someday, and now Vitani wanted to take that away from him. Simba pled for him to see sense, and Nala assured him that he would always have a place in the pride, as a prince and as their son. After some persuading, Kion reluctantly agreed to think it over. In his fantasies he imagined Vitani's 'Guard' trying to challenge him and the imaginary partners he had fought alongside for so long. He drew further back into his dreams, fantasizing about a reality where he was loved and wanted and had a place as the ruler and protector of his own world. In the real world, Vitani seethed with frustration, knowing full well that Kion had no chance of leading the Guard, and angry at having her progress hindered by him. Why did he have to take this away from her? Her mother was gone. Nuka was gone. Her pride was scattered. This was all she had. It was only when Kiara came to her and explained all that Kion had gone through, admitting to her own undesirable feelings of resentment towards her brother, that Vitani began to think differently. Kion had spent his entire life locked away in that cave, with his fantasies about the Lion Guard as his only means of escape. Without the hope that he might one day recover and truly lead the Guard, what was left? What purpose did he have? Perhaps he and Vitani had more in common than she had first thought. Vitani went to Kion and confessed how lost she had felt since her mother died, how everything she thought she knew had crumbled, and she was just trying to find a place for herself in this new world. She said that she knew she couldn't replace Kion as the rightful leader of the Guard, but she would feel honored if he could help her become a leader the Guard could be proud of. Kion was struck by this. So often he had been coddled and treated as though he was too fragile to upset, with his family often reluctant to truly acknowledge his condition and what it meant for him. Something about Vitani's honesty struck a cord with him. He was forced to come to terms with the painful truth, but in so doing he found a sense of clarity. In his heart he knew what he needed to do. Kion agreed to help Vitani put together the new Lion Guard, with her as their leader. But even as leader Vitani came to Kion for advice and for guidance, and through this Kion finally found a sense of purpose. As time passed, Kion began to grow stronger. His maturing immune system gave him greater resistance to sickness and more energy to actually leave the cave which had been his prison for so long. Although he would still have occasional bouts of sickness, he was far more resilient than he had been in cubhood, and could use preventative measures to keep his health in check. He even found he now had the strength to accompany the Guard on the occasional mission, though he was primarily restricted to observation and instruction rather than any sort of physically demanding work. He would never be entirely rid of his condition, but he found a place in his family, in the Pride Lands, and in the Lion Guard.