#they’re so different from each other. it’s hard to tell if their traits would eventually combine or not

[shmorp-mcdurgen]

dolion is a miserable existence-

since they share thoughts i think adam would be overwhelmed by all of jonah's knowledge at first before getting used to it, leaving jonah in control for maybe the first few days

maybe jonah's compassion would rub off on adam overtime, idk lol

Yeah, that or it’s like. They switch between each other, going from a broken yet helpful man to a complete monster unpredictably-

Though they absolutely hate each other so yeah. They’d be pretty miserable. For a while at least-

[chastiefoul]

and then there’s only one bed...

characters: dan heng, sampo,  gepard notes: relationship not yet established | fluff and light hearted

dan heng

you both just stared at the room, as if by doing so will change the circumstance that’s happening before your eyes. dan heng with his usual stoic expression eventually let out a sigh, “you take the bed,” he said. “what? no, i don’t want you sleeping on the floor,” you said immediately. “(y/n). you have a barely recovered fractured arm,” dan heng deadpanned, clearly done with your habit of downplaying your conditions. “i don’t see your point. i don’t sleep with my arm,” you retorted, hating the idea of enjoying the bed while he’s on the hard, cold floor.

while sometimes your friend dan heng found the stubbornness to be quite endearing, there are just times where the trait drove him mad. can’t you see he just wanted the best for you? “(y/n), please. for my sake,” he said as he grab your shoulder gently, his eyes filled with rare raw emotions. “you can’t stand the idea of me being on the floor then why do you think i can appreciate the fact that you’ll be sleeping on the floor?” you fumed. there’s a solid minute passed as dan heng processed your words, his eyes soften.

“then what are you proposing?” he finally relented.

-

it’s been an hour and you’re still having a hard time to sleep, as you feel the warmth from dan heng’s back. the bed was quite small, and there was no way it could fit you both without tangling some of your limbs so you both decided to settled with the classic back-to-back position. you thought it’d be fine right? it’s not like you’ll see his face or felt his breath close against your body but you’re once again proven wrong by just how bad this man had a hold of your heart.

“dan heng are you asleep?” you quietly say as you gazed at the ceiling. “what’s wrong? you okay?” once again the gentleness he’s so used to hide slipped off in front of you as he asked the question. “i’m okay,” you say, staring back into the wall. you tensed as you felt movement, you couldn’t see but you’re sure that dan heng just turned so he’s looking at your back. your heart beat against your ribcage, scared that there’s a chance he could hear it. “then sleep,” he said as you relaxed until you felt him stroke the ends of your strand of hair, as if he thought you couldn’t feel it, as though you would not notice. you smiled from ear-to-ear, “see, you do have a soft spot for me.” you closed your eyes as his finger got bolder, reaching more of your hair gently. he let out the quietest breathy chuckle, “tell me something i don’t know.”

sampo

you eyed him suspiciously, “sampo did you do this on purpose?” you asked, tone dripping with apparent accusation. he gasped for the drama, “me? i would never,” sampo said, the mischief in his words were obvious. “so if i go back to the receptionist right now and ask for a different room-“

“ahahaha, i’m sure they’re busy my friend, why don’t we look around the room a little? sound like a good idea, no?” the changing of the subject was not smooth, just like every single time he deflected. you shook your head and when he’s not looking there’s a smile forming on your lips—pleased by how things turned out. it might get you a look of disdain from most people if you say it out loud but, you trust sampo with your life. even when he’s not the most honest person, you knew there was no doubt that he’d bring harm to you. you both mean too much to each other.

-

“okay great sampo, now tell me the bedding plan, who’s where?” you asked after a shower, feeling a rush of exhaustion washing over you. “you’re on the bed, obviously. only the best for you.” he winked, getting an eye roll out of you. “and you?” you said, fighting a yawn. “on the bed, beside you. obviously,” he added. you plopped yourself to bed, his voice already far away as you’re taken over by drowsiness, until a minutes passed. “wait wha-“

the empty spot beside you dipped with sampo’s weight, he’s already tucked himself in under the blanket. “you’re cute all sleepy like that,” he chuckles. you wanted to (pretend to) protest further but you’re just so tired you won’t bother anymore plus his presence beside you was actually very comforting and made you feel safe. “you’re so sneaky,” you mumbled, fighting what’s left of your consciousness. “alright, get some rest already. you can complain my ears off first thing in the morning,” he said somehow his tone a tad softer, pulling the blanket over you nicely. sleep took you over quickly, although the same cannot be said for the merchant. sampo looked over you, smiling at the sight. sampo rarely was able to enjoy a night of sleep as he’s always up and about—it’s only now that he’s grateful for his bad habit. now he can watch over you and be on guard should anything happen. two birds with one stone, as he always said to potential customers.

gepard

“m-maybe i can tell them i am the captain of the silvermane guard and they’ll spare us a different room-“ he stammered, his calm demeanor long gone after witnessing that there’s only one bed in the room. “please, you and i both know you’re above using your work status for a special treatment gepard,” you said with a smile, and gepard knew you’re absolutely correct. it felt like lately nobody understood him more than you. the captain nodded, looking around once more for other alternatives.

“right, there’s also an option to sleep on the floor.” he said, mostly to himself because there’s not even an idea on his head that he’d make or let you sleep anywhere other than the bed. “hey, nobody’s sleeping on the floor on my watch.” you narrowed your eyes, warning him. “b-but where else should i-“ he stutters again, face painted with the softest blush. “we’re both sleeping on the bed, end of discussion, captain,” you said. he just stared at you as he let out a defeated chuckle, “sometimes i wonder why you’re not the captain of the guards.”

-

“gepard you’re being so tense that i could literally sense it, it’s making me restless,” you said as you witness his back on the bed. “i can’t help it, okay?” he murmured, his grip on the sheet was on a worrying level of tight. you rubbed his shoulder—the initial touch made him jumped out of his skin although as you keep rubbing in a pattern his body became more relaxed, his tension disintegrating. you spoke in a soft tone, “it’s not so bad, right?” you continued to touch him until it felt like he’s calm before you went deep into slumber.

even though gepard is all relaxed now the truth is that he’s wide awake. sure the tense on his body is all gone now, but then what’s he supposed to do with the wild heart beat on his chest?

[the-flys-buzz]

ANOTHER LYRIC DISSECTION 💔💔💔

“Floral sheets on long-given-up ghost, haunt my bedroom at night and say ‘Let’s get you home.’”

the ‘long-given-up ghosts’ line is william referring to his birth parents and how he left them behind in favor of traveling different universes. the haunt part is talking about how he still thinks of them with some sense of guilt! he probably sees the ‘lets get you home’ bit as them (his birth parents) telling him that.

“But come and braille-palm-read and hold my hand, see my reason and ‘Goodbye cruel world.’”

sounds odd, but i see this line as william try to explain what is emotions are like. i dont know why it just makes sense to me. likely him just rambling to steven about random things his brain says sometimes.

“And oh my god, what’s wrong with me?”

oh this one is easy. exactly what it sounds like. william asks himself this sometimes after he does something impulsive that he didnt mean to do. probably a lot after he snaps at steven.

“I’d rather stay asleep than never see you wake up next to me.”

this one is taken less literally. moreso in the sense that william would rather hide in his steven mindset than see steven whenever hes acting like abel, scott, etc.

“To incubate the shadows you can’t stitch back to your soles.”

wah!!!! william reminiscing on the actual good memories he has from his early childhood and realizing he cant get those moments back with his old family. hence, why he grips onto steven, jake, and his siblings so hard.

“And you seemed fine just a few days ago.”

i see this as steven talking to william actually. he has mentioned how william can go from happy and energetic to more stern and upset when hes using the phonehead form.

“Well, now you swear in your prayers telling time ‘Promise I’ll never have fun again, if you’d stop flying,’ but then you start crying ‘Never mind, you win.’”

steven probably bringing up what william says when hes a phonehead himself. how he'll 'do better' if steven stops acting a certain way himself. the last bit is when william gives up and eventually goes back to normal via a breakdown.

“And far too late came far too soon. And the love you never made became the things you’d never do.”

in reference to the impact steven has had on williams stability emotionally/mentally as well as the traits william has picked up from him. the ‘far too late came far too soon’ is in reference to steven not noticing it sooner. the ‘love you never made became the things you’d never do’ bit could be seen as williams missed opportunities in life now that he aims to follow in stevens footsteps.

“So come on, William, grow up, be a man, ‘cause until then they’re gonna treat you like you’re just a little girl.”

THIS LYRIC TAKES ME OUT EVERYTIME. it fits so well. how william thinks that people will see him as nothing but a kid if he doesnt act mature enough. how william is still concerned people will see him as a girl despite him being openly trans. OUH. this one is the entire reason this lyric dissection exists.

“It’s me who cries mercy while your fingers curl and, oh, are you at all like me?”

feels like william making a desperate attempt to reason with steven. especially the ‘it’s me who cries mercy while your fingers curl’ part. the ‘oh, are you at all like me?’ is a rhetorical question. he ask that to try and get steven to understand what hes doing is wrong.

“Do you know what I mean? Or am I too close to see? Someone, anyone?”

william trying to explain himself. likely what he feels like when no one is responding to his rambling how he expected. he doesnt like when hes wrong about something hes rambling about.

“Well, here is the church, here is the steeple. Open the doors, see all the people.”

this one refers to a memory william has of basically this exact thing. several people at an altar at a church, holding each other and comforting each other. hes not religious but he at that moment wanted that kind of comfort.

“Alright, that’s enough, let’s get you home.”

obvious one. after all of this, steven offering him the comfort he needs. in this case, steven is quite literally the home this references.

OUH. @ask-steven-stevenson th. this is a long one but OH WELL. you did wanna be tagged i think..... as a little bonus!!!!

thats the songs meaning. so uhrm. yeh that definitely adds on❤️

[desire-demon-ash]

Hello, Wardens and Hawkes, Inquisitors and Rooks, I’m writing a damn essay. Varric should’ve been the player character in Veilguard and I’m gonna tell you exactly why/how and why we could’ve loved it. Be aware there will be spoilers for the game galore, especially the endings. If you’re ready for that, sit down and strap in to hear me plead my case.

Point one: Varric is the most consistently morally good main character in games 2 and 3.

Varric has always been willing to do whatever it takes to save the world and help the unfortunate. In Veilguard Rook is a character with automatic good in a lot of their choices and regardless of background seems to be all in on trying to stop Solas from the get go. This speaks to the devs wanting the player character to be a specific type of person. A compassionate and determined character just like Varric.

We all know and love Varric for these traits. It would have been easy to accept him as a player character trying to get through to/help Solas and save the world. They clearly didn’t want to spend much time on the prologue, so Varric as pc would’ve eliminated the need for it entirely. As part of the narration he could even say: “After telling the stories of many kinds of heroes, it eventually became my turn to step into the leading role.”

Point two: There could be more choice than you think.

The number one complaint would, of course, be that this eliminates character customization, romances, and player choice. Firstly, I propose that you could still create Rook and play as them in the “prologue” but have them be the one stabbed by Solas and thereby haunting Varric instead. Your choices for the type of person Rook is can spawn conversation with Varric and ultimately inform how he approaches the story, in part due to his guilt that he got Rook so badly injured.

Secondly, Varric is also still a person and thereby can have different ideas of how to approach different things. We’ve seen him try to talk things through and we’ve seen him put a bolt through someone’s throat before they have the chance to fully turn on the party. There’s no reason why he can’t have a range of choices just like Rook does, especially since the choices are already limited to fit a certain type of character. Likewise the class spec is still your choice and we can see a range of fighting styles from him and Bianca.

Thirdly, I know you all want relationships and I suggest two solutions to this. One solution is for Varric to nudge the companions into romancing each other. The other is relationships between Varric and the companions that are queerplatonic in nature. This would fit Varric so well and (provided it’s done well) be a wonderful way to add some more inclusivity. This will eliminate sex scenes, sure, but it’s a cost I’m willing to pay in return for a banger story and you can’t tell me you would miss it so much it’s unplayable considering you only ever get one sex scene per romance anyway. (It could also be that Hawke shows up and the queerplatonic relationship is with them. Although they’d be about the only person besides Bianca I could see him romantically involved with.)

Point three: Varric can still die and Solas can still be made to do the right thing.

The devs made it clear that both of these plot points were non-negotiable and I believe they can still happen but to much better success. Picture, if you will, the final confrontation where Solas tricks Rook into switching places with him, but it’s Varric instead. Varric who is master of regret, but still fighting hard to do the right thing.

In the Fade prison he hears the voices of Rook, Hawke (if they’re dead), Bartrand, and every other companion he feels he let down. But he has to keep fighting, he has to save the world, because there’s no destined hero to do it for him this time. When he confronts Solas again, through whatever shenanigans, he realizes he can do just that, he can save everyone, even Solas. All he has to do is the thing he has always been willing to do: sacrifice himself. So that is what he does.

A simple dwarf, a criminal, a writer. Not magically gifted or a fate chosen warrior or even a politically powerful figure. Just someone who’s been through hell, but has remained steadfastly good despite it all. The best champion the world has to offer by far is the friend who’s been beside us all along. How could Solas see this and do anything but make sure his sacrifice isn’t in vain? There is, of course, still choice here too. Varric can try to trick Solas or fight him, but in the end he will make the ultimate sacrifice and this will finally get through to Solas.

Regardless of how you play Varric, he will achieve the glorious death that has been practically guaranteed since first meeting him. With all the tension and the music and the tears of the companions to make the scene impactful. Not the slow death we don’t see coming, but a goodbye that’s worthy of the character so many people love. And what better way is there for us to say goodbye to him than by guiding him to his final moment?

[anonnie-in-wonderland]

when i say that I enjoyed “Home Calls the Heart” so much trust that i do not lie!!! i typically don’t like to compare people bc everyone has a different journey to writing and creating stories on here , but man the way you write using tropes like hybrid and poly bts, which can easily become horribly written (in my opinion) is something out of this world. I feel like people typically either explain the world surrounding hybrids too much or too little to truly understand how their dynamics work throughout the story. But the way you write makes it seem right. I understand enough to the point where it doesn’t distract me from the main plot! I also love the way you write poly!bts <3 again im trying not to sound too harsh because everyone works hard for their art, but the way you write ot7xreader seems so genuine and not too cartoonish if that makes sense. i have a hard time trying to find some good poly!bts fics bc i luv them so much but sometimes it hurts my head. i mean i could imagine how hard it could be to incorporate seven character that have different traits and their own spirit, but, again, the way you have written them in “Home Calls the Heart” has me excited for new chapters to come!! Im trying my best to give feedback and appreciation towards my fav authors on here because i know how hard it is to express your art and not be financially compensated jiji you guys literally deserve the world!!! it’s also fun just being able to tell my favorite people that they are doing amazing at what they do best :) i hope this ask finds you well and yeah <3 i’ve also decided to give myself a lil nickname if that’s okay (pls do let me know if that’s okay) i would like for it to be the 🌙 emoji!! if someone else has it pls lmk so i could change it jiji-🌙

Hello, hello! Wow this was not something I was ever expecting to receive, but I am really humbled. I thank you for being into my writing. I’ve been writing a very long time but not for any kpop fandoms, and I was nervous about how it would be received.

I think different writing styles appeal to different people, but at the same time I know what you mean! It can be very difficult to find the right balance of how much information to use, and you don’t really want to confuse yourself or the reader, but at the same time you want to include more than barebones info.

I’m glad my approach to worldbuilding currently is not too hard to follow along with. That’s the key. Because at the end of the day I saw the prompt and wanted to tell a nice tale of the reader and hybrid BTS all healing from their friendship (and eventually more) with each other. As to the relationships…OT&s are popular and I knew right away I wouldn’t be leaving anyone out cause that’s not my style, but I did have to decide whether there would be shipping among OT7 or not, and you know I feel like when you’ve been around the people you love a long time, things would be casual. Casual intimacy.

I think some stories maybe do a lot of “hey!! Look!! They’re dating!!” And write them accordingly, and I suppose that’s fine, but I guess I try to write them as people in love who have nothing to prove. They just are comfortable in a relationship together and the Y/N gets to be a part of it.

Thank you for wanting to be someone that tells fanfic writers how much they’re appreciated. 🥹 That is so kind! I admit, I kind of miss the consistency of the feedback on my writing I’ve gotten in the past. Like beyond people just asking to be on the taglist or saying they’re excited to read more, I really use to love engaging with people on tumblr about my writing, but haven’t gotten a whole lot of that so far. So sometimes I wonder if I come off too intimidating. 😭 Because I see other writers chatting with readers about their stories and I’d love to do the same if anyone wants to. I appreciate any and everyone who takes the time to leave comments or ask questions though!

And of course you can go by that emoji if you choose to! It would help me keep track of who I’m talking to in the future and no one else is using it, so I don’t see why not. Thanks for your ask!

[sigurdjarlson]

also a requited truther but the difference in all the ways the characters love is what makes the show so interesting. tom grew up in what we assume to be a very loving home, maybe his parents would have done anything for him and for each other. on the other hand, greg seemingly didn’t have his dad in his life, a mom who seems slightly absent and a grandfather who withholds love unless he deems greg’s actions worthy (which is never). so greg grew up looking out for himself. the same way that shiv’s view of love is so fucked up because of logan. i think where the requited in me comes in is that greg does clearly care about tom and i think he can unlearn his upbringing if given the chance. i’m not sure if the roy kids can as easily. greg would sell out tom for a corn chip, but who can blame him (lots of people but ignore that)

Agree 100% Greg as he is now runs on survival instinct and self preservation. What some people don’t understand I think It’s not out of a desire to be malicious or even being cold it’s just..he’s going to look after himself and foremost (and in the world they live in I can’t really blame him. Nobody else is looking after him except Tom and Tom is volatile and confusing to him I think)

Ironically I think Ewan withholding his money to some degree was his attempt to having Greg and Marianne turn out like the Roy kids but instead he created two people who are willing to do whatever it takes to survive (and in some ways that’s more dangerous) and probably feel resentful on some level because they know Ewan had the ability to do so and didn’t

+ them looking at Logan and his kids and probably being like what the fuck? (They don’t know the depths of his abuse I’m sure) if they deserve it why don’t I? Why do I get the short end of the stick here?

(Also Marianne does seem to have a spending issue so maybe he doesn’t want to give her money for that reason. It’s hard to say because we know so little about her)

I don’t think selflessness is a luxury Greg can easily afford without risking everything and ending up living at his moms again, broker than ever now that Ewan is done with him. (He’s never had more to lose than he does right now since he doesn’t have the promise of Ewan’s eventual inheritance)

I may be in the minority here but I’m not sure how much I’ll blame him if he ends up screwing tom over given just..everything. Tom has shown some truly selfless actions with Greg (and also some very selfish ones to be fair) but he definitely doesn’t treat him that great and I think Greg resents him for that more than he lets on

(I also absolutely don’t think it’s out of the realms of possibility that it’ll be Tom who screws Greg over)

And I just don’t blame Greg too much when everyone around him has been encouraging him to look after himself and be a slimeball. Like you can’t tell the dog to bite someone and then get mad when it does?

I think he genuinely cares about Tom. I also think he’d absolutely screw Tom over if put in a situation where it benefits him.

I think Tom knows that on some level too. (Him withholding information with him in the s3 finale)

The difference between Tom and Roy’s (+Greg) upbringing is a big reason Tom struggles to mesh with them honestly. (If we’re right about assuming Tom had a fairly good childhood with loving parents. I mean it seems that way)

Him and Shiv can’t communicate love in a way that the other needs and/or understands.

Greg is more openly affectionate/supportive in a way Tom needs/wants but I don’t think he has the selflessness Tom (he probably would have sold Tom out in boar on the floor lmao) expects from love. The way he grew up and the environment they’re in…it just can’t survive there let alone thrive

I agree out of everyone Greg could probably in theory unlearn his shitty behaviors the easiest. Unfortunately he lives and works with people who only enable and encourage those traits ;)

[kareniliana]

Klaus: Love & Power

A//N: I’ve been gone for a LOOONG minute. But I have good news about it. 

I MADE THE DEANS LIST! 

Winter qtr of college was a little difficult but it was the best I’ve ever done in school. Such good news right!?

Anyway, this qtr I have a little stricter schedule, which means I knew specially when I can write. And I had been. 

GET READY!

& enjoy!

xx Karebear 💛🧸

Yours and Klaus’s love story seemed far fetched for most people but for those who were able to experience your connection grow into an immense amount of love for each other, would say otherwise. You became his world, alongside with Hope. In his mind, after he was able to curse Hayley and the werewolves in the bayou, he had the perfect life. His two great loves under his roof, under his sole protection. You would never agree to what Klaus has done, but nonetheless you love him. He’s the complete opposite of your previous partners in more ways than that. You understood him, through and through. You knew him like the back of your hand, you know his next move before he does. 

You were holding Hope in your arms as you walked along the bookshelf trying to get her to sleep, but all the effort was about to go to waste when Klaus comes barging in panting about to rage about gods knows what.

But before he could begin you raised a warning hand, “Don’t you dare wake her!” You whisper shouted at him. He instantly stops dead in his tracks.

Once his breathing normalizes he sits down on the couch, “The witches are siding with Marcel against me, they want my crown.”

You walked over to him, handing off his sleepy daughter to him. “You don’t need to be everyone’s king. You have all that you need with Hope and I, right?” You asked shyly.

He looks down to a sleeping Hope, then he looks back up to you before nodding his head.

“Maybe you should just give them New Orleans?”

Klaus sighed before standing up, “I should put her to bed, it’s late.” Klaus avoided your advice, walking off to Hope’s bedroom.

After a few minutes of contemplating whether you want to still be here when Klaus comes back or not. If you stay, you’ll more than likely have to sit there listening to him rant about this losing battle. If you leave, you can avoid all of that. 

With no incentive to stay, you grabbed your things and made your way out of the compound. 

As you walked down the steps you notice a disheveled Elijah. He sat on an almost broken chair, drinking liquor out of a broken bottle. The entire ground floor is basically destroyed, broken tables, chairs, artwork, glasses and everything in between. 

“Who in the Hades did you fight today?” You gasped at the sight, oddly enough no bodies were to be found. Blood could be seen splattered all around.

“Y/n, my apologies for the mess, I seem to have taken it a bit too far.” Elijah stands, setting the bottle on a table. In mere seconds the table caves in, shattering the bottle on the ground.

Elijah tried to fight the smile off his face, but it only grew twice in size.

You laugh at his reaction, soon Elijah bursts into laughter as well. As you descended down the rest of the steps, Elijah explains how some of his sires became a threat to the rest of his family.

“Therefore I sent them a message, ‘come after my family, I will come after you.’ It’s what this family does best.” Elijah explains as he begins cleaning up the broken furniture as you stood on the last step listening to him.

“Violence begets violence, this family of yours lives in a cycle of violence.” You sighed, crossing your arms across your chest. You sounded almost defeated.

“You speak like it’s your final efforts dealing with the dramatics of my family, why is that?” he asked, noticing how fed up you are.

“I love Klaus and I love Hope, but...” You shake your head, holding yourself back.

Elijah stopped cleaning, “No, no, please don’t hold yourself back now. If there is anything this family is in dire need of, it’s your brutal honesty. Please continue.”

You sighed, “It’s just... no matter how hard life gets for him, he will not give up the one thing that brings most of this unwanted violence.”

As you spoke Elijah had come to the same realization as you, his face fall into a slight frown as he listened to you.

“After all this heartbreak and sorrow brought upon your family, you’d imagine he would at least hand over some of the reigns. But no, the mighty Klaus Mikaelson has to be King of everyone.” You talked without any reservations on the topic, eventually your tone became stern and cold.

“I know my brother can be a lot, he wants the perfect life for Hope. You can't blame him for that.” Elijah speaks with some regret, they're problematic past on his mind.

“I love that man but at some point I have the face the truth, there’s nothing more that he loves than power.” You almost choked on your words, first time saying them out-loud was harder than you thought. 

Without another thought you gather your composure and hurried your way to the exit, “I should go.”

Elijah opened his mouth as he was going to say something but was speechless. There wasn’t something he could say that would fix what you were feeling. After some short time has passed Elijah had managed to get the ground floor back to its glory.

Meanwhile Klaus sat in Hope’s nursery all night, just watching her sleep. He kept thinking about what you had said; giving up New Orleans. How would he be okay with giving everything back to Marcellus? 

Klaus hadn’t realized that he had been there all night until the sun rises and began to beam into the room. Letting Hope sleep, he finally leaves her room quietly. He walked around the house in search of you but much to his surprise, you weren’t in bed or the kitchen or even the study. You never came back.

Elijah walks into the study behind Klaus, “Hope’s still sleeping?” 

“Have you seen Y/n? She never came home last night.” Klaus asked, worry evident in his voice.

“Not since last night when she left, you had a fight.” Elijah states which only angers Klaus.

“Were you eavesdropping on us last night?” He began to raise his voice, Elijah simply looked at his younger brother with a stern look.

Smirking at Klaus, “I had a conversation with Y/n on her way out, that is all.”

Klaus wanted nothing more than to chase you down and talk but Hope started crying meaning she’s awake. First Klaus tends to his daughter, contemplating on what to do with the situation at hand.

He knows you love him with everything that you are, but letting go of this city was something he didn’t think he’d every have to do again.

As soon as night falls, Freya comes to watch over Hope while Klaus goes out looking for you.

You sat in the lycée with Davina, she performed a cloaking spell on you to stay hidden for a while. She practiced different spells, continually getting up for different plants or herbs for said spells.

“I never would have thought that the city of the dead would be this... peaceful.”

“It’s a great place to help think, maybe soon you’ll start telling me why you need to hide from your own boyfriend.” Davina laughs slightly as she walks back to you with different colored potion bottles in her hands.

“Klaus needs to be King of New Orleans, I just need to finally accept that as one of his personality traits.” You sighed, setting down whatever witch instrument you had been playing with.

“A guy like Klaus means there is no changing him. Take the time that you need to sort your feelings, I’m meeting up with Josh. No one should come through here.” Davina gathered her things and walked out to go with her vampire friend.

Hours pass and soon it would be night, your thoughts ran wild. You love Klaus with every cell in your body, you could die loving him and it'd be a worth while life. So maybe him being the King of New Orleans is something to fight for. You’ve loved him when he's at his worst, so why can’t you love him when he’s fighting to stay King.

Coming to the realization that no matter where or what Klaus is doing, you’ll love him and want to be with him. Almost immediately you made your way out of the Lafayette Cemetery and straight to the Mikaelson compound.

After a few hours, Klaus lost hope in finding you before you wanted to be found. He went back to his daughter to wait for your return, running into Elijah at the enterance.

“Anything?” Klaus asked him, almost pleading with his eyes for some good news.

Elijah shook his head, “I didn’t want to mention this but, brother maybe she's not coming back.”

“Why on earth would you say such things?” Klaus asked before looking over to Elijah who wore a guilty expression. “Unless she said something?”

They slowly began to make their way inside the fortress, “Our chat last night, she mentioned that you might desire power more than you desire love.”

Klaus stopped dead in his tracks, there you were standing in front of Freya who was holding Hope.

Once you noticed the brothers enter the room you began apologizing for basically vanishing out on him. “I am so sorry, I needed time to figure out my stupid feelings.”

Klaus walked straight to you, pulling you into his embrace. Freya and Elijah looked to each other, making their way elsewhere to give you and Klaus some privacy.

When he pulled away he held your hands in his, “Your feelings are never stupid. There is nothing I love more than you and Hope. I’m sorry I made you feel that way, it was never my intention. I don’t need to be King.”

Your eyes go wide and you furrow your eyebrows, “No, no, I was wrong. I know why you have to be King. It’s okay, really. I know that everything you do is for those who you love.”

Klaus smiled down at you, “I do love you, do not forget that.”

[theepisceswriter]

Jealous!Reader with AOT characters pt.2 (Porco, Bertholdt, Pieck, Zeke)

A/N: y’all really liked the first one I made here, so here’s a pt.2 with different characters

TW: none really apply, sort of suggestive for Zeke, Modern AU, GN!reader

PORCO GALLIARD

I am a firm believer that in a modern AU, Porco and Reiner would be the type of people to go to sport restaurants like Hooters, Buffalo Wild Wings, or Twin Peaks. They give me that macho man type of vibe. Of course though, Porco would make you tag along with him almost every time he went. He feels that it’s a very nice way for the two of you to bond. Which honestly it is.

You have a deep sense of security within yourself and enough trust in Porco to not be bothered by the waitresses there, as you should, knowing that it’s only their job to be enticing like that. Hell, you even enjoy it when the waitresses would flirt with you sometimes or you’d get the really pretty ones who look like they’re straight off of a magazine. Not to mention that you visit places like this often, so most of them know you and know that you and Porco are in a relationship together.

They all respect your boundaries and don’t try to push at them at all.....until this one waitress comes around. You can quite obviously tell that her flirting is different from the “trained” flirting that the other girls often do. She lingers at your table a little longer than she should be trying to talk to Porco to the point where other waitresses have to tell her to go check on other tables and she’s disregarding you completely, asking Porco questions that should be aimed at you and being very rude in general.

Porco is hardly paying her any mind, too focused on the game to really pay attention to what’s going on, but any piece of attention he gives to her she latches on too it. But still, you remain cordial and calm on the inside. Not wanting to come off as one of those significant others and cause a scene that doesn’t need to be caused. If someone looked at you for too long they might notice an eye twitch or two coming from you.

Really it’s Porco’s hand holding underneath the table that’s keeping you sane and reminding you of how secure your position in your relationship is. You almost calm down entirely, but of course the waitress has to come back and try desperately to get his attention again. At one point he zones out into the game and to try and get his attention she attempts to tap him on his shoulder.

Strong on the attempt because you grabbed her wrist before she could even brush her fingers against his shirt and gave her a stern “Aht! Aht! That is not going to be happening tonight and definitely not in front of me.”

And Porco, this menace to society, finally speaks up like, “I was wondering when you were finally going to say something. I was getting afraid that I didn’t mean anything to you anymore.” He would’ve eventually intervened himself though if she was actually successful in touching him.

The waitress gets the hint for the rest of the night, but just incase she doesn’t he holds you close to his side with his arm draped over your shoulders.

BERTHOLDT HOOVER

Despite his soft spoken nature and personality that sometimes falls on the shy part of the spectrum, Bertholdt is actually an easy person to come up to and start a conversation with. Of course, you have to be the one to start the conversation, but after that it’s like he can’t shut up, likes he’s compelled to answer back to everything and keep a conversation going.

It’s a trait of his that you’ve come to love, but also come to hate on days when you’re out in public with him and can just see the twinkle in a girl’s eyes when she’s getting ready to come over to him to flirt. It’s usually in awkward situations too like when you’re out shopping and he’s standing off to the side because he has no business looking at what you’re shopping for, so the fact that he’s kind of alienated from you and doesn’t know how to respond to flirting all that well in the first place really has him in an awkward chokehold.

He’ll get asked for his number and instead of saying flat out no, because he doesn’t want to be harsh, he struggles to let words out at all as he tries to think of what to say. And people really prey on his shyness and don’t even give him the chance to respond before they’re forcing themselves on him more, handing their phone out to him just waiting to input a number.

Imagine the shock and anger on your face when you turn around from your shopping happy ready to show Bertholdt what you got and instead you see a girl trying to get his number! You’re over there in an instant, legs carrying you as fast as they can and a scold on your face as you go over there and the first thing you do is push that phone as far away from him as you can.

“I know my BOYFRIEND and something tells me that he is not interested in the direction this conversation is going with you whatsoever, so I suggest you leave him alone before I make you 😤” The girl leaves like immediately after that.

Bert is just behind you the whole time with a ☺️ look on his face like “Yes, that is indeed my significant other!” Which is so funny because he’s like 6’3 and towering over you, but you’re the feisty one!

He does feel kinda guilty for not cutting off the interaction before it got that far, so he wraps his arms around you and nuzzle his face into your neck all like, “I’m sorry baby 🥺🥺 you know I don’t like anyone else but you 🥺🥺 I was trying to tell them no thank you but it wouldn’t come out 🥺🥺”

You couldn’t stay mad at him even if you wanted to, that’s all it takes for you to forget about it altogether.

PIECK FINGER

It’s almost impossible to see someone as fine looking as Pieck and not shoot your shot. If I saw Pieck out in public the first thing I would do is shoot my shot.

It happens allll the time whenever you two go out. Out at the mall shopping for clothes? Someone’s going to come up to you two and try to hit on Pieck. At the club minding each other’s business and trying to have a good time? Some guy is going to come over and try to ruin that for you too.

At first it was like a bragging rights thing for you. Everyone noticed your hot girlfriend was hot but you were the one who went home to her everyday and not them, but at some point it switched from a bragging right to down right annoying. It’s like you can’t leave her alone for more than a couple of seconds because here comes someone breathing down her neck being a weirdo!

Poor Pieck doesn’t even know what’s going on half of the time because she be baked out of her mind, thinking about nothing but how some ruffles and ice cream can really hit right now. So she’s just going along with the conversation like “mhm, yeah ☺️” every ten seconds hoping that they’d get the hint that she’s not thinking about them at all and to leave her alone. But, of course, they don’t.

Her body language becomes stressed out and agitated, not knowing what to do because you’re in the gas station buying snacks for the two of you while she’s far away at the gas pumps doing her best to get an ending with this weirdo where they don’t kidnap her.

Luckily, just on time you exit out the gas station and even before you get any closer to Pieck you’re already pissed off at the fact that someone is probably hitting on her, but after you see her do that awkward little shuffle with her feet signifying that she’s uncomfortable? You’re over there in a heartbeat.

See, maybe you would’ve been a bit nicer if her body language didn’t tell you that they had been pestering her for a while despite how everything about her screamed ‘not interested.’

So what do you do? You take the bottle of sprite you bought and bop them on the head with it. Head empty no thoughts just ‘protect my stoner girlfriend.’

Pieck is so messy too, she’s in the background like “Ohhhhh shit *giggle* fight! Fight! Fight!” You were ready to rumble too, but if you were so ready to hit them in the head with a sprite bottle the other person definitely didn’t want to know what else you were confident with doing. So they recuperated from their sprite bottle hit and went running to their car.

This was a proud girlfriend moment for Pieck the whole drive home. She could not stop talking about how much of a badass you were and how she loved that you would do anything for her.

ZEKE JAEGER

I wrote soft Zeke already, so now it’s time for me to give y’all the menace Zeke y’all have been waiting for.

Zeke is the type of significant other who’s big on teasing and messing with his partner is general. There’s something about seeing them all flustered after he does something to embarrass them, like fake propose to them in public or something, that really cracks him up. That being said, he’s not opposed to flirting with someone in front of you to get you riled up and see your reaction.

Let’s set the scene; He drags you to Sam Ash with him, because we’ve all just collectively decided that modern day Zeke is a music pretentious asshole, to go get something for his guitar or at least that’s what you assume he was complaining about. You weren’t even listening, just excited to go and mess with the drums and guitars there. It’s the first thing you do once you get there and Zeke sees this as his opportunity to finally mess with you.

He goes over to the drum set display you’re playing on and calls over and employee with “inquiries” about the set you’re playing on. He pretends to ask a few genuine questions at first but eventually he’s able to get the conversation to shift to something a little more personal. Which isn’t terrible, but once he starts throwing out lines like “Oh you like (said band)? I’ve always found myself gravitating towards people who like them. They’re always the most attractive people, I’ve found 😏.” Is when you start getting agitated.

You’re just trying to play We Will Rock You on the drums and here he goes killing your vibe immensely. And it’s hard to ignore when they’re standing right on the side of you. Not to mention how the employee is eating all of this up, blushing and all. It’s at the first mention of numbers being exchanged that you’ve decided you’ve had enough. Without a word to Zeke you get up and storm out of the store.

Was this a dick move on his end? Absolutely, but you’re a couple who’s relationship is filled with debating and bickering, bickering especially, so part of him thought you would play along with his little game and be like “Whatever. I don’t care.” But instead, you were genuinely upset. You didn’t even know where you were going but you were going somewhere. And that somewhere was the outside of the Sam Ash store because you realized you really didn’t have a choice.

Sorry guys, but I have to switch over to soft Zeke now.

He comes running after you, “y/n! Y/n it was a joke!” But that just makes you even more mad and oops, a year drops down your face and he feels terrible.

Kisses all over your face, words of assurance spilling out his lips, and a tight ass beat hug.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I’m such a dick I know. I didn’t mean to make you this upset though.” He would get down on his knees if he had to!

I guess you can forgive him just this once, but only on the terms that you get Sub!Zeke tonight and get to act as a pillow princess/prince cause he has a lot of making up to do.

[palpipeen]

The Pit Crew Intro

Seeing everyone talking about their OCs makes me wanna talk about Pit Crew SO BAD so that's what I'm gonna do

My content is NSFW and for those who are 18+. MINORS DNI.

So to start: I've had four of these boys for more than a decade now. Back when Republic Commando first came out and I became completely enamored with the concept of clone troopers/commandos, back before I could post my writing online (entirely due to me not knowing how to). So I'll be listing the OG 4 first, then by rank the rest of Pit Crew!

CT-1307 || Sgt. Tock - Dad friend who takes no shits and puts the safety/security of his men first. The most seasoned out of all of them and a bit paranoid because of it. (Also, very damaged bc of it.) Doesn’t like to let others close and has had a hard time getting along with the newcomers to his squad that joined after Quickshot. But once his loyalty is earned he’s in a person’s corner for both their natural lives. Stubborn to a fault, but not unreasonable. Can adapt quickly and is very good at making snap decisions that usually end with positive results.

Trivia: Tock's name used to be 'Tok,' and came from this made-up language for my original species that would eventually become the Corvys. Tock's tattoos are the closest to 'Mandalorian traditional tattoos.' (He has them on his chin/neck, chest and shoulders.) Back when I revisited Tock's character, I rewrote him to be a bisexual disaster of a man who had a LONG list of paramours on about a dozen different planets. Now I'm sort of thinking he's either ace or demi

CT-3309 || Riggs - He's already had his own intro, but here's the info again: The literal definition of a spitfire. He will not hold back when he lets a person have it - really, he probably doesn’t know how to hold back. Which gets him into trouble. Frequently. But he only goes off because he cares. This boy cares a lot. But he tries to make it seem like he doesn’t. A bit of a daydreamer, he thinks a lot about what will happen after the war. Butts heads with his superiors a lot, but he’s smart, so he knows what he’s talking about. Has a LOT of self worth issues that are made worse when Tock tells him about Tick, and then never tells anyone else on the Crew about it.

Trivia: Riggs's wounds did, indeed, destroy his chip's functionality in regards to a few specific orders. Order 66 being one of them. He has a thing for red heads. (No, it's not because he dyes his hair candy apple red, he swears) The two snippets of fic I've written about Riggs paints him in a very serious light, but Riggs is actually known as the squadron's comedian. His delivery is often very dry.

CT-6447 || Tony - This man has an ego the size of all the known galaxy, and is unrepentant about it. He’s good at what he does - shooting up clankers. Although he might need to talk to someone about his hatred for droids, as it extends to all of them. (Even the ones on the Republic side.) Tony also likes to think he’s the universe’s gift to all women and will flirt with any and all of them if he thinks they’ll be receptive. And he’s very good at picking up on that. A bit of a narcissist. One of Whiskey’s batchmates.

Trivia: I hate him I hate him I hate him I hate him. I. Hate. This. Bastard. Like genuinely, I've poured all of the toxic traits I could into him. Complete and total narcissist. Wears his hair super long. IDK, I don't care about him and neither should anyone else.

CT-3616 || Quickshot - Please let them rest, they're the only thing that’s kept all of Pit Crew from killing themselves or each other for so long. Quickshot (or Q, or Quick, they answer to anything) is the medic. While Riggs will talk back to his superior officers, if they’re wounded and endangering themselves or others, Quickshot can and will (and has) knock their asses out for their own safety and health. Quickshot fears no man, woman or other, and really only fears two things. Losing their vod and snakes. (Don’t ask, they won’t talk about it to ANYONE.) While they are the quietest out of the group, Quickshot is arguably the most emotionally grounded. Is the one that quietly judges the rest of the Crew for their bullshit shenanigans.

Trivia: Q is non-binary and I love them sm <3333 Quickshot and Riggs have a friendly rivalry in regards to hair and have annual competitions of 'Best Hair in Pit Crew.' Q dyes their hair blue (like, true blue, not neon but certainly not muted) because one: it's their favorite color, and two: blue is superior to red and Riggs could never pull it off They're also about 75-80% covered in tattoos and have the most body mods. (Yes. Those kind, too.)

And the rest of the Pit Crew, PLUS their commanding officers:

CC-2662 || Hornet - A bit of an asshole, but only because he has to deal with the general directly and took the blame for when half their ranks were wiped out. The Pit Crew is a constant reminder to him about why he needs to work harder to keep everyone alive, because he sees them for what they are. A really weird family. Hornet is incredibly intelligent, and quick thinking. Both are completely necessary when following the general's orders. Has a very dry sense of humor and half the time, no one can tell if he’s actually joking.

Trivia: Riggs is the only person in the entire battalion to ever see/get this man to laugh. (Afterwards, he told Riggs 'no one will believe you' and walked away.) Has a bit of dark side corruption that no one is aware about. Wonder why that is....? 83c I imagine that Hornet dyes his hair to reflect his name - sort of. It's probably something like, dyed a bright yellow with zig-zag patterns on the sides of his head that are his natural hair color. His namesake comes from his mentality of 'get in, strike hard, and get out before they know what hit 'em'

CT-7088 || Captain Whiskey - Literally the heart and soul of the battalion, and one of the only things standing between the general and the rest of his men. An absolute mother hen who probably shows a bit too much concern for his men, but they really are his vod. Seems to know what everyone needs before a requisition is put in for it. But when he’s on shore leave and you see him at a bar? No you didn’t. Whiskey isn’t here. Don’t talk to him, don’t come near him, do not perceive him - shore leave is the only time he doesn’t want to deal with anybody. He just wants to get so drunk he forgets everything - hence his namesake.

Trivia: Whiskey was named after one of Pedro Pascal's character, and that sums up a lot of his personality. (If you don't know, look up Agent Whiskey and you'll see. That's him, just without the surprise ending.) Has a bit of a tumby he's kinda self conscious about. Has never seen a space western in his life.

CT-1308 || Tick - A literal ray of sunshine personified. Tick’s whole life seemed to be about cheering up his brothers - but especially his ‘twin.’ Tick and Tock were like night and day - Tick would never think before he acted while Tock has always been very particular and careful. Tick expressed his emotions frequently while Tock buried his, and his entire identity. But Tick saw through all of it, all of his siblings’ attempts to hide their pain, and would go to great lengths to get them to smile again. Really wanted to see more of the galaxy alongside Tock and hoped that one day he could convince his twin that there was more to life than this war. Tick just knew there would be more for them.

Trivia: The only one out of his batch to have gray eyes. It wasn't a bright gray, just like 'all the color seeped out' of a clone of Jango Fett's natural eye color Had ADHD, 100000%. Him and Hardcase crossed paths more than once during their cadet years and were pretty fast friends. Would have had ALL the tattoos and piercings - if he'd lived long enough to get them after the Battle of Geonosis....

CT-6974 || Worm - Hates his name, HATES it and has tried multiple times to get others to call him something else. Has a chip on his shoulder about it but once you get past that, he’s a really great guy. If you’re willing to look around his tendency to cause mischief. Worm is a thorn in the side of whoever is his commanding officer, and currently he’s Tock’s thorn. Many would assume that would end up with Worm getting the shit kicked out of him - but Worm is as charming as they make them back on Kamino. He uses this to his advantage frequently, and so far the only situation he can’t talk his way out of is his damn name.

Trivia: A transfer from the 501st - he definitely isn't salty about it Does NOT like the general and is shit at hiding it. Worm just doesn't have a good feeling about the guy. He'll follow orders, sure - but at every opportunity he manages to throw barbs at him. The reason he got his name is actually cute - because he wormed his way into the hearts of all his trainers. Unfortunately, 'Worm' just stuck, so he has to deal with it

CT-8889 || Jynx - One might hear Jynx’s name and think ‘wow this guy’s unlucky.’ On the contrary - he’s very, very lucky. The sole survivor of his last squadron kind of lucky. Not that he’ll ever talk about it. He’s also not superstitious in the slightest and thinks superstitions are all a load of shit. Jynx is a giant tech nerd and hoards whatever tech he can to either take it apart, analyze it, or jailbreak. Will talk a person’s ear off about his latest finds or his favorite ones - explaining how things work and what they could be used for. Tries not to get too close to anyone in the Crew but him and Tony are thick as thieves from pretty much the moment they meet.

Trivia: His relationship with Tony is Not Good. Tony is an emotional vampire that perpetuates Jynx's survivor's guilt in very subtle ways Had a bit of a stutter as a kid that ended up with him being the butt of a lot of jokes. It's gotten better with age, but when he's stressed or excited it tends to come back Unfortunately has absorbed some of Tony's manipulation tactics and can be kind of shitty to be around

CT-2051 || Naak - Is convinced his entire life is a joke and takes very few things seriously. His name literally means ‘peace’ - him, a man spawned in a fucking vat to fight a war that he never signed up for. Oh he’ll follow orders - he’ll be the best goddamn soldier in the battalion and never think twice about it. But this boy is so jaded and so snarky and borders just shy of being downright cruel. The only people he’s kind to are his squadron, and even that’s sort of debatable at times. Is always the first to try and make light of a situation, and always has to have the last laugh.

Trivia: Knows the most Mando out of Pit Crew - he doesn't ever explain how he learned it all. Would have been great for ARC training, but the amount of times he's been found with contraband (alcohol) have nearly gotten him court martialed Collects shells. He's not sure why, he just likes them

CT-9792 || Jawbreaker - A giant sweetheart. Literally in both cases. Jawbreaker knows what all the clones were made for. He understands that perfectly, and when given an order, he’ll follow it to the letter. But gods if this boy’s heart isn’t the most tender thing about him. He is deeply empathetic and just wants to enjoy beautiful things now and then, not that he knows how to tell people that, and hides it behind a stony facade that many have struggled to get past. Few have succeeded in seeing it - the exception being Riggs, of all people. Riggs will just have none of that bullshit, but doesn’t ever force it out of him. Now and then the two talk about what life after the war might be like. Riggs talks about family and Jawbreaker about a flower garden.

Trivia: JB is a plant parent, but it goes beyond wanting a flower garden. He can practically revive ANY kind of plant JB was in the same battalion back when Tick died, but wasn't part of Pit Crew until after the Battle of Geonosis when his affinity for fixing heavy weapons was discovered JB takes part in the annual 'best hair' contests, but his is always his facial hair. (It counts, okay)

Aaand that's all for now! I do have a commando squad that I need to pick away at but for now, that's Pit Crew. I love them all so dearly <3333

Taglist: @jango-fettish, @seeking-kharis @thefanficsideblog, @jabbas-lightsaber

Taglist Signup is here~ LINK

[voiceswithoutlips]

Calico - Chapter Eight

— pairing: Hybrid ot7 x Human Reader (Female) — genre: hybrid AU, fluff, angst, slow burn (like real slow), eventual smut — word count: 3k — Rating: G — warnings: Slight mention of past abuse, description of a panic attack. — beta: Thank you @taegularities​ and @joheunsaram​ <3

Tag List || Masterlist || Schedule

— chapter summary:

Y/N is having a hard day, who will comfort her?

— A/N: Guys, I’m so bad at summaries, if this was an exam my grades would’ve been in the negative. Anyway, welcome to the new chapter! I know I was supposed to post fallen, but somehow I ended up writing Calico instead.

I’ve had a bad case of writer’s block this week so writing this chapter was really painful, words refused to come out of my brain xD I hope you like it! You guys have been so awesome, all your feedback is really helpful. Thank you so much <3

— taglist: @lovelyseomin @anaac28 @ghostkat23 @btswdwsmhrdt @sweeneyblue1 @luvtaeha @taegularities @ aajames217 @ littlewolfieposts @nochujeonjk @hamiltrashlebo @minyoonsh @hoebii @ sunshinee0-0 @egm09 @cstobitk @splaterparty0-0 @missseoulite @mirawi-fox @sea-nevermind-enthusiast @hemmofluke @seaoffangirling @gee-nee @woopetals @secretbangtnn @vminkook-ownsme

Ch. 1  Ch. 2 Ch. 3 Ch. 3.5 Ch. 4 Ch. 5 Ch. 6 Ch. 7 Ch. 8.5

I made my way downstairs in search of breakfast. Ice cream, that’s what I needed. It was that kind of a day. I was tired, jet lagged, and the tension in the house had me on edge. The flight home was fairly uneventful, except for the part where Jimin had gotten scared of flying. He had asked to hold my hand, but by the time we were in the air, the hybrid was practically sitting on my lap. Not that I minded, he was hella cuddly and his purring was downright therapeutic.

When I had asked Jungkook, if it would be okay to bring the newer hybrids home, the bunny had sounded excited, but as soon as we had gotten home, the mood had suddenly shifted. It was not the welcome I was expecting.

First, Jungkook’s hair was the color of the rainbow. His beautiful black locks were turned into a colorful mess, his white bunny ears poking out of it in stark contrast. It was a riot of colors, artfully mixed together, and I felt like I was looking at rainbow pasta. Not that the bunny didn’t pull it off, he looked really cute in it, but somehow I had a raging suspicion that it hadn’t been Jungkook’s idea.

Then, there was the growling match. I had never seen Jungkook so aggressive before. The usually sweet and well behaved bunny had started growling at Jimin as soon as we’d entered the house.. That had set off a chain reaction with Namjoon and Seokjin joining in to protect their younger packmate.

On top of that, I had to go to Seoul for three days to take care of business. I had to visit the main office to attend a few meetings and sign some papers. The whole time I felt guilty about leaving the hybrids alone. I was constantly worried that somehow they’d end up fighting. By the time I came back, somehow, someway, Jason had managed to convince Jimin to dye his hair pink. He was on a warpath.

And lastly, there was the issue of a certain stuffed penguin that went missing -  my nights were sleepless without him. All in all, this had to have been one of the shittiest weeks, and it felt like I was losing my grip on reality.

I stumbled into the kitchen, rubbing my eyes, struggling to keep them open. Unlike Jason, who was cheerfully humming, I was not a morning person. Seokjin was busy near the stove, cooking something and by the smell wafting from the pan, I could tell that it was something delicious. I had thanked every existing god when I’d learned that the sugar glider hybrid was actually an excellent chef. The first morning, he had seen Jason cook breakfast, he’d been horrified, promptly taking over the kitchen after that. Even Jungkook had begrudgingly ate his food.

My stomach grumbled as I peered in the pan. Kimchi fried rice, delicious. Unlike Jimin and Jungkook, the two older hybrids weren’t really that affectionate. I wondered if it was because they weren’t used to me yet or if they just had a different temperament. I needed to do more research on that.

I plopped down on the chair with a groan, resting my head on the counter, hands securely wrapped around my stomach. Jason gave me an enthusiastic “good morning” and I shot him a middle finger, too tired to curse at him. The bastard chuckled.

I was debating if I should stab him with a fork when I felt hands wrapping around my waist, long fingers intertwined with mine. Jungkook bent down to nuzzle the side of my face. His muscular body pressed close. My lips curled into a small smile as I made small happy noises. My brain wasn’t awake enough to form coherent sentences yet. I needed my cup of coffee or better yet, some delicious ice cream.

Jungkook’s arms tightened around me possessively, I could feel the vibrations in his chest as he let out a low growl. I opened my eyes to see Jimin standing near the chair, looking distressed, hands balled into fists at his sides. His tail was swishing rapidly in agitation, ears flattened to his head. He was biting his lower lip, trying his best not to respond to Jungkook’s hostility.

“Bunny no,” I croaked, patting his hands, my voice thick with sleep. I lifted my head, extending a hand to Jimin. Jungkook took his cue and reluctantly let me go, keeping hold of my other hand. Jimin grabbed my hand and with his other one checked my forehead, a worried look on his face.

“Are you sick?” he asked, gnawing on his lip.

“I’m just sleepy.” He giggled at my pout and graced me with a forehead kiss. He sat down next to me, and now I was sandwiched between two hybrids who were holding my hands, glaring daggers at each other. I rested my forehead on the counter with a sigh. What was I going to do with them?

Once again I was in a dilemma. I could scold them and make them shake hands, like a couple of kids, or I could let them handle it on their own, like adults. Taking care of four hybrids was tiring. I shot a quick glance at Seokjin, who was now setting up the table; he was ignoring the two younger hybrids in front of him, but his tail was curled tightly, ears flat. It seemed as if he was tense too.

“Guys, I need breakfast,” I said, reluctantly pulling my hands from their grip. I made my way to the fridge to grab a tub of my favorite ice cream, ignoring the stares that the hybrids were giving me. I had to stop myself from pulling Jason’s ear as I passed him, not now Y/N. The revenge for ruining Jungkook’s hair had to be elaborately planned, something memorable, just like old days. Like the time when I had super glued his shirt cuffs closed, so he couldn't put his hands through the sleeves. He had started this war, I was going to finish it.

“I like your garden!” Namjoon said as he walked in through the back door. Ears perked up, an excited glint in his eyes. I didn’t even know he was out there. I wondered if he could help me with the hybrid situation, he was a pack leader after all. He had informed me about hybrid pack dynamics on the plane while I cuddled a sleepy Jimin. Apparently he was their alpha, the leader of their pack, Seokjin was second in command and Jimin was their maknae. He was excited to meet Jungkook, since he was a rabbit hybrid, they're usually very docile and friendly. Needless to say, we had both been shocked at the bunny's behavior.

“I’m glad you like it. Maybe you could help me with it?”

“Really? I would love to!”

We all moved to the seldom used dining table for breakfast - now that there were six of us, the kitchen counter was too small to occupy us all. I debated where to sit, I didn't want to take sides in the hybrid cold war, so I chose to sit at the head of the table, safe middle ground. I knew Jungkook would want to share the ice cream. I wondered if the other hybrids would too, so I had brought extra spoons, just in case.

"Seokjin, this is delicious!" Jason said as soon as he took a bite of the fried rice. "Where did you learn to cook like this?" I couldn't help but smile at the hint of envy in his voice.

"Madame hired a professional chef to teach me when she found out I liked to cook," he said shyly, ears turning pink from all the attention. It was his cutest trait: whenever someone looked at him, his ears would start to redden.

"That was nice of her," I said dryly, the distaste apparent in my tone.

"She was really nice," Namjoon said pointedly, clearly disliking my tone.

“Clair was kind, she saved us from our previous owners and gave us a home,” Jimin joined him.

"Oh?" Jason said, trying to coax some details. The three hybrids shared a quick look. Jungkook had abandoned his fried rice and was digging into my ice cream, his ears perked, listening in on the conversation.

“My first owner was a gambler, but he didn’t play poker. He and his rich friends were into blood sports. They had their own dog fighting ring. He had raised me since I was a pup, trained me to be a fighter, forced me to participate. One day, Clair saw me at a party and she wanted to buy me, she offered him so much money that he couldn’t refuse,” Namjoon finished with a sad smile. I wanted to go and hug him, but I was sure the hybrid wouldn’t welcome the gesture.

“I…” Jimin paused, looking down at his hands. “The lady who raised me, she brought me clients. She’d sell me to people… sometimes it was for a night, sometimes it was more. She used to tell me that I was her lucky charm. Clair rescued me from her, she was really kind to me.”

The spoon in my hand clattered on the table. There was a ringing in my ear. My limbs were paralyzed, heart pounding in my chest as I felt the panic rise, almost drowning in it. I couldn't get enough air, finding myself on the verge of hyperventilating while my brain went into overdrive. It wasn’t my first panic attack, I was aware of what was happening to me, I knew I had to get a hold of myself. I couldn’t lose it here, not in front of them.

“Y/N? Hey can you hear me?” I turned towards the voice, Jason’s face slowly came into focus, “are you okay?”

“Y/N?” Jungkook said, looking extremely worried. He was holding my hand like a lifeline. I slowly removed his fingers and took my hand back.

“Yes, I’m fine,” I murmured, trying to control my breathing. I got up from the chair with wobbly knees, making my way towards the door. “You guys finish up, I’ll be in my office.”

Redemption, what a joke.

It was well into the afternoon when my stomach informed me that I was hungry. I was swarmed with paperwork. I’d been busy the whole week, running errands, filling forms, trying to keep the hybrids from tearing each other apart, so the paperwork got neglected, and now I was paying for it. I briefly wondered if I should go back home and grab something to eat, but then I remembered the look on everyone’s faces this morning. I had panicked in front of them. I had been feeling restless the whole week without a certain comfort penguin. I was too embarrassed to ask the guys if they had seen it.

I groaned, leaning back in my chair. How was I going to face them? What would I tell them if they asked? A knock on the door pulled me out of my thoughts. “Come in.”

It was Jungkook, holding a bowl. He tentatively entered the office, looking everywhere but at me. His ears were drooping behind him. “I brought you lunch,” he said, setting the bowl on the table.

“I’m sorry I pushed you away this morning,” I apologized, extending a hand towards him, which he took hesitantly. I pulled him in my lap and buried my face in his chest; he smelled like vanilla.

“Are you okay?” Jungkook asked, wrapping his big hands around me.

“No,” I whispered. “But don't worry bunny, I’ll be fine. I just need some sleep.”

“Is it because of Jimin? Can’t we just send him away?”

That made me raise my head to look at him. “Why don’t you like him, bun?”

“He’s too clingy,” Jungkook pouted, jutting his lower lip out. It made me giggle.

“What about Namjoon and Seokjin?”

“They can stay, Seokjin hyung makes delicious food and Namjoon hyung is so cool.”

“Oh, did you talk to them?”

He shook his head no. I almost cooed at him - the poor bunny was too shy to talk to the older hybrids. “Why don’t you try making friends with Jimin? I bet you’ll like him if you got to know him better.”

He buried his face in my hair and shook his head, “...don't wanna.”

I took his hand in mine. “Won’t you do it for me?” I asked dramatically, trying to sound upset.

Jungkook leaned back to look at me, pout more pronounced. He knew exactly what I was doing. “Fine, I’ll try,” he agreed with a defeated sigh.

“Thank you, baby.” I kissed his palm in gratitude. At least he had agreed to try. “Why did you dye your hair?” I asked curiously, running my hands through his multicolored locks.

“Iwantyoutolikeme,” he said in one breath, hiding his face in my hair again.

“What?”

“I want you to like me.”

“You dyed your hair because you want me to like you?” Jungkook nodded. “Oh baby, I already like you!” I squeezed him tight, letting him know how much he meant to me. Is that what Jason had told Jimin? That I’d like him better if he dyed his hair? Jason was diabolical, I really needed to come up with a good plan to get back at him.

“Bun, next time, don’t listen to Jason.”

I was curled up on the sofa with a blanket. It was past midnight but I was wide awake and restless, staring at the ceiling. I had almost turned on the TV, but then I remembered that there were four hybrids in the house with phenomenal hearing, and I really didn’t want to wake them up. And thus, I suffered in silence.

I hadn’t seen the three new hybrids all day; they hadn’t been introduced to the shelter yet, so they stayed at home. When I came back from work, they were already in their room. They had insisted on staying in the same room, something about new places and pack bonding. I was giving Jason the cold shoulder, at least until he apologized for his crimes. And Jungkook was busy playing his new video games.

Clair had saved Jimin.

The thought rang in my head. Why hadn’t she saved me? Would things have been different, if she had stepped in? I had to admit, I was a tiny bit jealous of the panther hybrid. She had saved him.

Madame was so kind.

I was furious. How dare she? Clair had been a coward, had lived and died as one. I knew it in my soul, never in a million years would I ever forgive that woman. She didn’t deserve it.

“You’re angry,” a quiet voice said. I looked up to see a tall silhouette standing at the bottom of the stairs. Seokjin stepped out of the shadows, clutching a pillow in his hands.

“I was thinking. Can’t sleep?”

“Namjoon snores really loudly,” he complained. It made me laugh. The three of them were always attached to the hip, I had wondered if it was because they were uncomfortable here.

“You know we have plenty of spare bedrooms, you can take any of them.”

“Why are you here?”

“I can’t sleep.” I shrugged. Seokjin nodded understandingly, but he didn’t move an inch. “Do you want to sleep on the couch?”

He hesitated, looking as if he was unsure if he should accept my offer before he murmured, “can I?”

“Of course! But I think, a bed would be more comfortable,” I said, moving from the couch to the armchair. Seokjin sat down on the couch, placing his pillow near him.

“Why can’t you sleep? Is it because of what Jimin said?” he asked cautiously, ears erect and attentive.

“I have insomnia.” I shrugged, but Seokjin kept staring at me. I squirmed under his piercing gaze;  staring at me like he could see right through my bullshit. “I didn’t have a good relationship with Clair. She raised me, but she was cruel, unkind. I just… can’t fathom her as someone nice.”

“So it had nothing to do with Jimin being a prostitute?” he asked suspiciously.

“WAIT! Is that what you guys thought? Oh my god, I would never…” I was shocked. No wonder the hybrids were avoiding me like the plague. “I’m really sorry, if it seemed that way but it's not like that. I’m really happy that Clair rescued him. He deserves a good home, a family. I don’t think you’d believe me, even if I told you what my aunt was like. I’m really sorry, if I hurt you guys. But believe me when I say that this is not a place where you’ll be judged for your past.”

“You mean that.” It was a statement, not a question.

“I do.”

“You could sleep on the couch with me?” Seokjin offered sheepishly, ears turning the color of strawberries. I was surprised to see him be so direct. He had been very reserved around me till now, only talking when necessary.

“Are you sure? Won’t you be uncomfortable?” I asked, eyeing the couch. It was big enough to seat five people comfortably, but Seokjin was big too.

He nodded. “I’ll be fine.”

Seokjin adjusted the pillow and laid down on the sofa, leaving room for me. I stood there with my hello kitty blanket, wondering if it was okay. The sudden change in the hybrid’s demeanor was unexpected and I gave up trying to dissect the situation. I had to admit, I was feeling a bit cuddly since the loss of my penguin and I desperately needed sleep. I scooched on the sofa, covering both of us with the blanket, resting my head on his arm.

“You’re not okay,” he murmured, wrapping his other arm around my waist, his tail curling around my thigh.

“I just need some sleep,” I sighed. Seokjin was like a furnace behind me. I wondered why all hybrids were this warm.

“Lies,” he said as he lightly nibbled on my ear. I gasped at the unexpected contact, my heart beating so loudly in my chest that I was sure he could hear it.

“I thought you didn’t like me,” my voice came out breathier than I had intended.

“I do, I just didn’t know how to approach you. You seem so independent, I didn’t know where I could fit in your life. The only thing I could do for Clair was look pretty. But this.... this I can do, I can comfort you. I want to be useful.”

I turned around to look at him. “Oh honey, you don’t have to be useful. You’re you and that’s enough for me. I just want you to be happy.” I lightly kissed his cheek.

“I’m going to be your comfort blanket,” Seokjin said with a smile and hugged me closer.

Previous || Next

[unsymp-sides-content]

I wish you would write a fic where Janus was told constantly when he was younger that the light sides would never love and care for him because he's a snake by the other dark sides. So Janus grew up super self conscious about his snake traits and gets super confused when the other sides compliment them ~🥔

This took forever but I hope you enjoy it

Characters: Janus, Logan, Roman, Patton

Word Count: 1.5k

Janus couldn't remember how old he'd been when he'd first mentioned thinking that his scales were pretty around one of the others. He could remember the way they'd looked at him though, incredulous and amused. And he could remember their laughter.

"Pretty?" they had mocked. "Who in their right mind would find those disgusting things pretty?"

Janus had frowned at that, not knowing what to say and the others had gone back to their conversation. But he hadn't been able to stop thinking about it.

Later that night, he'd stood in front of his mirror, slowly running his fingers over the left side of his face. The scales felt smooth and he slowly turned his head back and forth, watching the way they changed color slightly in the light.

Before, he'd always found it mesmerizing. Now, he couldn't get the others' words out of his head.

By the next morning, he still couldn't stop thinking about it. He paused in the hall after breakfast, staring into the mirror they had there and trying to decide whether his scales were beautiful or hideous. One of the others had caught him looking and sneered at him. "Admiring yourself again? I'm surprised you can stand to look at yourself for that long."

Janus really should have stayed silent then. But he couldn't help himself. "What do you mean?

The other side rolled his eyes. "I mean, you have to know how unnatural they are. All weird and inhuman. It's kind of creepy."

"...Oh." Janus had not, in fact, known that and the words stung more than he would have expected. "You really think they're that bad?"

"We all do. That's why we avoid you so much. Makes it kinda hard to look at you or, you know, like you."

And that, that hurt so much more than Janus had ever realized something could.

All he could manage was another, mumbled "oh" before he hurried back to his room, locking the door behind him.

From that day on, Janus started avoiding mirrors.

It was already too late though. The others used every opportunity they got to remind him how awful his scales were, how unlovable they made him, and how it was hard to even look at him most days.

After a little while, he started avoiding them too. But that didn't help much either. He couldn't get their voices out of his head.

Eventually, he'd simply accepted it. He got rid of all of the mirrors in his room and avoided going out into the mindscape as much as possible. He began wearing gloves so he wouldn't have to look at the scales on his hands. And he learned to accept that none of the light sides would ever love him.

He had expected them to be a little less blunt about their hatred though.

Logan was the first one he noticed it with. Every now and then he would catch the other side looking at him, more specifically his scales, a little too closely. Logan never said anything about it though, and neither did Janus. The others had already made it clear how hideous the snake half of him was, and he didn't need to hear from anyone else.

After a little while though, he started to notice Roman and Patton doing the same thing. They were far more subtle about it than the logical side had been and they at least had the grace to look away and make an excuse when they were caught.

Janus couldn't deny that it still stung, but at least they were kind enough not to say anything to his face. It was far better than anything he'd expected and anything that he was used to. So he could handle it. Even if hurt so much more coming from people he actually cared about. He was strong enough to take it.

Until he wasn't.

He'd already been having a bad day. Thomas had desperately wanted to get out of plans with some of his family and Janus had had to construct some rather intricate lies to convince them to leave him alone. Add the amount of effort it had taken to get Thomas to move past his guilt and agree to lying in the first place, and Janus' patience was running thin.

When he was finally done, he made his way to the living room of the mind palace where the others were gathered, rewatching The Office (despite Logan's protestations). He collapsed onto the sofa with a groan and Roman raised an eyebrow at him. "That bad, huh?"

Janus groaned again in response.

The others went back to the show and after a few minutes Janus sat up, looking around at them.

Patton and Roman seemed genuinely fixed on the show, laughing and joking with each other as they watched. Logan, however, was paying far less attention. He was still watching the show, and he'd chime in with the occasional comment, but every now and then, he'd dart a glance over at Janus. They usually lasted a few seconds and Janus couldn't help but notice the way Logan's eyes slowly passed over his scales each time.

On any other day, Janus would have done his best to ignore it or perhaps made an excuse to go to his room. But today was different. Today, he was already at the end of his rope.

So the fourth time he sensed Logan looking at him, he turned to meet his gaze with a sharp glare. "If you want me to leave that fucking badly, it certainly wouldn't be easier for you to just say that." His voice came out sharper than he'd intended but he couldn't bring himself to care.

Logan frowned at him, looking more confused than genuinely hurt. "I certainly do not want you to leave and I'm not certain what gave you the impression I do."

"Oh fuck off." Janus snapped. He could feel Patton and Roman staring at him too by this point and he ignored them. "I'm not stupid, Logan! I can't see the way you all constantly stare at me! I know my scales are hideous, I know it's hard to look at me, I know you all hate me. I know I'm disgusting."

Patton opened his mouth to say something at this point, but Janus pushed on.

"So if you'd rather not have to see me, fine, just tell me to leave! I don't care. But at least have the decency to say it to my damn face!"

Janus was yelling at this point and he was ashamed to realize there were tears starting to form in the corners of his eyes. He blinked them away quickly, refusing to look at any of the others.

The television was still playing in the background, but it sounded muffled and far away. Janus stared at a spot on the carpet with startling intensity, while the other three looked at him silently.

It was Roman who finally broke the silence. "What are you talking about?" He sounded genuinely confused. "I- none of us find you hideous or want you to leave. Why would we?"

Janus almost laughed at that. "Don't lie to me."

"We're not." It was Logan who spoke this time, shifting so he was directly in front of Janus. "I'm not certain what we did to make you believe this, but none of us hate you or find you repulsive. I cannot speak for the others, but personally, I was only watching your scales out of fascination. I find them quite aesthetically pleasing to look at, but I was worried that vocalizing this might make you uncomfortable."

Janus felt at a loss for words. Logan was lying. He must have been. And yet…. Janus couldn't sense any kind of lie in what he'd said. And the way Logan was looking at him was far too genuine to be anything but honest.

Before he could even start to recover from everything Logan had just said, Roman joined in, nodding.

"Calculator watch is right. Your scales are stunning. The way they glimmer in the light. The way their color seems to change everytime you look at them. Their lovely greenish gold hue, the way they blend so seamlessly into your face…."

Roman had gotten up and slowly started moving closer as he spoke. Now, he knelt in front of Janus and looked up at him earnestly. "They're beautiful. You're beautiful."

And that was finally too much. Janus felt tears spring up in his eyes again and this time there was nothing he could do to stop them. He let out a sob and slid forward, off the sofa and into Roman and Logans' waiting arms. A moment later Patton had joined them as well. He sat on Janus's other side, one hand slowly rubbing his back as he cried.

"It's okay, kiddo, it's okay. We're all here for you, okay?"

Janus couldn't bring himself to respond, simply sobbing harder. He felt the others shift closer to him in response and he let himself relax against them.

"It's okay," Patton murmured again, his voice soft. "We love you."

For the first time in as long as he could remember, Janus actually believed that.

[huilian]

for Damian Wayne Week 2021, day 5, prompt: ‘Mother and Son’ and ‘Brother’

Dick watches as Talia scours every inch of their cell. She has been doing that for almost three hours, now. Dick stopped way back at hour one. He knows why they’re here, knows exactly why it’s the two of them in this cell. Ra’s will get his way, whether they like it or not. 

It brings back memories, to be honest. This is just like the first time he met Talia, except this time, instead of testing Bruce, Ra’s is testing Damian. 

“Talia,” he finally says, “sit down. You know you’re not going anywhere.”

She scoffs. “Maybe you were raised to give up, Richard, but I was not. I will find a way out of here, and when I do, my father will have many things to answer to.”

Dick sighs. He doesn’t want to do this either, but he knows that even if they manage to get out, Ra’s will just try again. He’s like a cockroach, unable to be killed. Eventually, he will get what he wants, and this time, what he wants is to test Damian. 

“And what are you going to do once you’re out?” Dick asks, trying to appeal to Talia’s logical side. “You know he’s just going to do it all over again. This time, it’s just a kidnapping. What if next time it’s worse? Do you want to do that to Damian? Better to just get it over with.”

Talia looks at him with venom in her eyes. He knows that it’s because she knows that he is right, and she is pissed about it. 

“Fine,” she spits out. “But only because of Damian.” 

She walks around the cell one more time, and then chooses the spot that is farthest away from Dick to sit down. 

They spend several minutes that way, each lost in their own thoughts. Dick wonders what Talia is thinking about. He knows what he is thinking: the last time he saw Talia. The image of the Heretic, standing over Damian’s body with a bloody sword, swirls in his mind. He will never be able to forget it, no matter how many times he has hugged his little brother to convince himself that Damian is here, breathing and alive. 

Finally, because he has always wanted to ask this to Talia, and because there is no better time and place than right now, with just the two of them in this cell and no lethal weapons between them, Dick says, “Why did you kill him, Talia?”

She turns her head towards him in an instant. He sees her eyes narrow, but Dick stands his ground. He needs to know this, because Damian may have accepted the fact that his mother sent out bounties for his head, may have accepted the fact that his mother sent a clone of himself to kill him, but Dick hasn’t. 

“I didn’t kill him,” she snaps at him, but Dick doesn’t want her semantics. 

“You sent a clone of him to kill him, Talia,” he snaps back. “You killed him.”

“I didn’t kill him!” she shouts. Dick watches as she takes in a few breaths, and then she whispers, “I didn’t mean to kill him.

“He… He wasn’t meant to kill Damian. He was supposed to follow orders, he was supposed to follow my orders,” she continues. “But then he…” She closes her eyes, placing her head back on the walls of the cells. “He was supposed to follow orders,” she finishes. 

“The Heretic?” Dick asks. 

Talia nods. 

Suddenly, Dick understands. He knows about the Heretic, knows about Talia’s plans to create a perfect child, a child who would follow her every order. He also knows the lengths of what Talia would do to achieve that.

“He’s a human being too, Talia,” he finally says.

She sighs. “Yes. Yes, he was.”

They sit in silence again for a while, but the previous conversation only gave Dick more questions than answers. “I still don’t understand,” he tries again. “Even… even discounting what you did with Leviathan, you still hurt him. You said the Heretic was supposed to follow orders. Damian was too, wasn’t he?”

Damian, forcing himself to go on patrol even when he’s almost delirious from a fever. Damian, forcing himself not to flinch when he think he has done something wrong, because he knew that flinching would earn him an even worse punishment. Damian, not comprehending the fact that someone could love him just for who he is, and not for what he could do. 

Dick doesn’t wait for an answer. He continues on. “I don’t understand how you can do that to a child, any child, much less your own.”

Talia looks back at him. “Do you think it’s easy being the daughter of the Demon?” she growls. “Life in the League is hard. Being a relative to the Demon’s Head is even harder.”

Dick frowns. That’s not the explanation he wanted— nothing would ever be an explanation he wanted, because he could not comprehend doing that to Damian— but it’s something. Something to build on. 

“Is that why you do all of that?”

“I…” Talia sighs. She looks around the cell they’re in, and then seems to decide something. The tension in her body disappears, and she almost looks like she is melting into the wall behind her. “I bore him, you know,” she says. “I told him he was made in an artificial womb, but the only artificial thing about it is that it has been made and remade, again and again, with the Lazarus. Nine months, and more.” She smiles. “Even as a baby in the womb, he wants to have his way.” 

Dick finds himself smiling back. He doesn’t know why Talia is talking about this, what purpose this conversation will have, but he senses that Talia is, for once, being honest about Damian with him. And he would never say no to baby stories of Damian. 

“That does sound like Damian,” Dick says. “What did he do?”

“The average length of a pregnancy is thirty-nine weeks. He was with me for forty-two weeks. The doctor was about to induce labour when my water suddenly broke.”

“Not about to let anyone tell him what to do, huh?”

“That’s Damian,” Talia says, the smile on her face softer than anything Dick has seen before. 

“Why did you tell him he was made in the artificial womb?” Dick prods. 

She pauses, and, in an uncharacteristic display of honesty, says, “To stop his sentiment on me.”

“What?”

“Tell me, Richard. What has sentiment ever done for me?” She shakes her head. “Nothing but pain. I thought…”

“You could spare him that pain,” Dick finishes. “Didn’t work, huh?”

Talia goes back to looking at him with venom in her eyes. This time, however, the venom is of a different kind. It’s the kind of venoms that mothers will willingly spit out for their children, even as it hurts themselves. 

“Obviously,” she says, in a way that is so reminiscent of Damian. It’s clear where Damian got those traits. 

Dick waits for Talia to keep talking, but she is like Damian in this way too. Or, perhaps, more accurately, Damian is like her in this way. They both realize that they have said far too much, and stops. Thankfully, Dick is well-practiced in the art of coaxing answers out of Damian. 

“You love him, don’t you?” he asks. 

Talia bites her lips, war clear in her eyes. Or perhaps only clear for someone who has seen that exact same look in her son’s eyes far too many times. Finally, she spits out, “What do you think? His blood is my blood and his bones are my bones.”

Dick takes that in, and then says, “I think that I have never understood you, Talia. You say you love him, but then you control his body. But then you put a bounty on his head. And even if you said you didn’t mean for him to die, you still put him in that situation. How am I supposed to believe you love him when you did all of that?”

“I…” Talia sighs. “I might as well go all in and answer that. I’ve said far too much already.” She shakes her head. “But, a trade, if you will, Richard? A question for a question. An answer for an answer.”

Dick thinks about it for a moment, and then shrugs. What’s the worst that could happen? “Sure.”

“I did that out of… jealousy,” she says. “Or rage. Or madness. I don’t know. Or maybe I’m tired of being used by someone I cared about and wanted to see what it’s like to use someone. And Damian… Damian is the only one who can be my target. 

“Or maybe I just want to have Damian for myself. To not have to share my son with someone else. Because,” she looks him straight in the eye, “if you recall, Richard, by then Damian was no longer only mine, and will never be only mine again.

“Selfishness, then.” She closes her eyes, and breathes out. “For twenty months, I am all that he knows, for even Ra’s al Ghul wishes to do nothing with an infant. For twenty short months, and that’s including his gestation, I am his whole world. But then I have to share him with my father, with the League, and with his father, eventually.

“Why do you think I didn’t tell him about his father until much later? I didn’t want to share him. But share him I did, and that made me…. bitter.”

Dick blinks. He wasn’t expecting that answer. It made Talia seemed… human.

Of course he knows that Talia is human, but in Dick’s mind, Talia is always something else. Something other. Lazarus pits and Leagues of Assassins and forgotten myths from centuries ago. 

He should have known better. She is as human as he is, and right now, she sounds like any other mother, who wants to keep their child to themselves. 

“So I guess,” she continues, “the answer to your question is, I took his body because I want to feel what it’s like to use instead of be used. And I… I killed him because I’ve had to share him with others. The Heretic was also mine, you know. So were the Sons. I convinced myself that I didn’t need, didn’t want Damian anymore because I have them already. 

“But I was wrong. Damian is my son, and that will never change.”

“Do you regret it?” Dick can’t help but ask. 

“Regret it?” she looks at him incredously. “I will spend the rest of my days asking myself why I did that. I will spend the rest of my days being thankful for Damian’s forgiveness.”

Dick has nothing to say to that. Talia doesn’t either, it seems, because she is silent for a while, before she visibly collected herself. 

“That’s enough from me for now,” she says, mask firmly back on. “You owe me two answers, Richard.”

“Two?” Dick asks. 

“You asked two questions, did you not?” she raises her eyebrows. 

Dick sighs. He should have known. “Alright,” he sighs. “Ask away, Talia.”

She is silent for a while. “What did you do,” she finally says, “that makes Damian love you so?”

Dick blows out a breath. He really should have known. Talia isn’t going to skimp on the questions. He knows how she thinks. She didn’t expect to be giving out so much information, but now that she did, she’s going to make the most out of it and grill him for as much information as she gave out. 

“Asking difficult questions, huh, Talia?” he asks, more to give himself time to think than actually asking. 

“You are the one who started it, Richard,” she replies back. “Now answer the question.”

Dick tries to gather his thoughts, but eventually, he says, “I… I guess it’s because… it was just the two of us. That time when Bruce was gone. Everyone else left and…” He wants to say that he cannot in good conscience let Damian go back to her, but that doesn’t seem like a good thing to say right now. He does have some tack. 

“And it was just the two of us,” Dick repeats. He looks back at her, and remembers that she gave him an honest answer, or as honest as she could manage, and decides that he will too. “I didn’t give up on him. He kept expecting me to send him away, but… But I need him to be there, too.” Dick laughs a little, because if you told him, back when he was still wearing the cowl and shouldering the weight of the legacy Bruce left him, that he needed Damian there, he would have scoffed. But he knows better, now. 

“I need him there with me, because if it was just me, alone, I don’t think we would be having this conversation, Talia,” Dick says with a small smile. “So I didn’t give up on him, and he didn’t give up on me, and we came out together.”

“And that made him love you?” she asks with a frown on her face. 

“That made us love each other,” Dick answers.

“Ah,” she says, but Dick can see the frown deepening on her face. He considers explaining to her, but ultimately decides not to. She needs to figure this out on her own. 

Besides, she would not appreciate it if she think he’s condescending her. 

“Your second question?” Dick prods. He’s half-tempted to consider that her last question as the second question in this ‘game’ that they’re playing, but even he’s not that cruel. 

Talia opens her mouth, but before she can say anything, the door to their cell opens. 

“Mother!” Damian shouts. “Grayson!” he shouts again, almost running towards Dick. 

Dick is already standing up before his little brother even steps foot inside the cell. He opens his arms and Damian crashes into them, pushing the air out of Dick’s lungs.

Then, almost as quickly as it happened, Damian releases himself from the hug. He looks over towards Talia, as if remembering that she is also here, and composes himself. 

“It is good to see you well, Mother,” Damian says. 

“It is good to see you well also, my son,” Talia replies. 

They look at each other, but Dick has had enough of looking and of awkward silences. He scoops Damian back up his arms, and says, “Where’s everyone else?” 

Because if Damian came here by himself, there will be hell to pay back home. 

Damian seems to know that, because he turns to look at Dick, eyes wide even through the lenses of the domino mask. “They are outside,” he says. 

Which means that Damian ditched them to come here on his own. Dick raises his eyebrows, which is retaliated by Damian’s scrunched up nose. “They are outside,” he says again, voice tinged with petulance. 

Thankfully— and this shows just how much have changed between the two of them, that Dick can honestly be thankful for this— Talia is there. She crouches down in front of Damian, and says, slowly and clearly, “That was foolish.”

“I…” Damian tries, but with the two of them looking at him, he doesn’t have a chance. “Fine,” he grits out. “Fine.” 

Which is good enough for Dick. For now, anyways. He doesn’t want to do this in front of Talia, no matter how much insight about her he has just gained. He shakes his little brother a bit, just to show that he’s teasing, and says, “Were you worried about us?”

“No,” Damian grumbles. “I was more worried about the fact that the two of you were left alone, unsupervised.”

Talia clicks her tongue, seemingly sharing Dick’s exasperation. She is just more vocal about it. For a moment, Dick thinks that she’s going to flick Damian’s ear, or bop his nose, but of course she doesn’t. After that one, single click, she goes straight back to business, and asks, “And what does my father wants you to do this time?”

Dick almost misses the woman she was, just a few minutes ago, when it was just the two of them, confessing something only the other one would understand. Almost. But then he snaps back, remembers that they are here for a reason, and tunes in to Damian’s answer. 

“... another one of his cumbersome tests,” Damian finishes. Dick subconciously tightens his hold on Damian, thinking of all the things Ra’s al Ghul would want to test, before he deliberately lets go again. Damian would not appreciate Dick treating him like a child, especially in front of Talia. 

“Hmm,” Talia hums, apparently thinking the same thing as Dick. She looks over Damian again, but, evidently finding nothing wrong with him, just taps him once in the cheek and says, “Be careful.” 

“Yes, Mother,” Damian grumbles again. “Can we go, now? I believe more of Grandfather’s men is currently heading in this direction.”

“You go,” Talia says. “I have several things I need to discuss with your grandfather.”

“Mother,” Damian starts to protest, but Dick catches Talia’s eyes, and sees in them a shadow of the woman from before. She has business with Ra’s, alright, and it almost certainly involves Damian.

Dick nods at Talia. Whatever discussion she would have with her father, Dick wants Damian nowhere near it. And it’s clear that Talia doesn’t want her son near it too. 

“Come on, Dami,” he says to Damian, who look between them as if he could not decide who he wants to follow. “Let’s go.” 

“Go,” Talia tilts her head towards the door. “I will see you later, habibi.” 

Still reluctant, but finally acquescing to the unspoken demand, Damian nods. Then, he walks to the door, half-pulling, half-hindering Dick with him. Dick takes charge, then, changing his grip of Damian so that he is the one leading. 

But, as they walk out the door, Dick turns back, and he meets Talia’s eyes. She looks back, and in that one moment, the two of them understood each other perfectly. 

[modernsuperhero]

Pls elaborate on the fundy---tommy specyrum

Sure.

So to recap what @t0mmyinnit said, one of the points is that Fundy is an adult who a lot of people (but mainly Wilbur) infantilize, or treat like a child when that’s not what Fundy wants or needs, while Tommy- who IS a child- is forced to mature and act like an adult before he’s ready. 

Their relationship with Wilbur specifically is a good parallel between them. The idea of a ‘narrative foil’ is that two characters contrast or are different from each other in a certain way that lets you learn more about them, without the writer or in this case roleplayer having to tell you right out. It’s basically a fancy form of context clues. Fundy and Tommy are narrative foils in that Fundy is Wilbur’s biological son, but Wilbur doesn’t give him the attention, affection, and praise that Wilbur gives Tommy, who Wilbur has emotionally adopted as his son. (IK they’re brothers but that’s a technicality.) 

Wilbur favors Tommy in every way, and as the viewers we get to see how the different ways Wilbur basically raises his ‘sons’ affects them. They both crave his attention, working hard to help accomplish Wilbur’s goals (remember that without Wilbur, L’Manburg wouldn’t exist) but Fundy grows more distant. Fundy wants to step out of Wilbur’s shadow, because being in that shadow hasn’t been a good time for him. He’s constricted being so close to his dad and isn’t allowed to grow. At the same time, he still has that emotional connection to Wilbur, culminating in him eventually rejoining his father in Pogtopia to give him his spy’s diary. 

Wilbur doesn’t keep Tommy in his shadow, hidden behind him- he keeps Tommy in the limelight, using him as a figurehead and metaphorically a human shield. Wilbur may have lead the revolution but with everyone looking at Tommy, people would attack him instead of Wilbur. I personally don’t think Wilbur had evil intentions- at least at the time- since he was still sane then, but that's still what happened. Tommy has no need to step out of Wilbur’s shadow, and has actually been able to grow from being close to Wilbur, from having his guidance and maturing as a person and as a character. 

Both of these characters were basically raised by Wilbur. The differences in their personalities, in how they view themselves and how they view others, are shaped by that. Both Fundy and Tommy want to have their own place in the world, but Fundy wavers between choosing sides, conflicted with his moral compass and unsure of where he stands in the grand scheme of things, or what he’s supposed to do, or what will make him happy. Tommy knows what side he’s on. His moral compass doesn’t waver. He knows what he’s fighting for and what he’s fighting against. He has a dream he knows he can be happy with and he’s determined to make it reality. 

That’s how they are foils of each other. Without Fundy, Tommy could seem more shallow of a character, more flat and boring. We as the viewers would just assume that Tommy’s personality and his character traits were simply predetermined. With Fundy as a contrast, we can see how Tommy was greatly shaped by Wilbur and his mentoring. Without those foils, we now know Tommy would be more like Fundy. Similarly, without Tommy, we may just assume Fundy is just Like That, and not be able to hope for something better for the character. If a writer or actor or roleplayer or some sort of fictional world-builder doesn’t show us the highlights, the best of ‘what could be’, how can the audience be expected to even know that it’s something they can want? 

Tommy and Fundy co-existing in the same universe allows the audience to see how they both can grow. It’s absolutely fascinating and that why I love, love, LOVE to talk about it. Thank you for the ask, and let me know if anything I said doesn’t make sense or if you have any questions!

[evertriedsoywithyourpopcorn]

5 Reasons Roman Is Infuriating (And Why I DO NOT have a crush on him)

(Logince with a bit of denying and pining) Read on AO3

My first fic, based on my Logince drawing (If someone ever wants to make anything based on my art, feel free to ask. Making content is hard and people fleshing out concepts is always fun.) Word count: 3641

Tw: Cursing, Food mention, Balloon popping, Remus being his authentic self

Character’s: Remus, Virgil, Janus, Logan, Roman (At the end), Patton (Mainly implied)

~~~

He had everything ready.

"Ahem."

Three heads turn to look at him.

"Logan, I really don't understand why you're doing this. You know I'm literally the Lord of the Lies, right? I can tell when you're lying."

"Falsehood. I am here specifically to prove to you three, the ones that have doubted me the most, what I think of Roman, so that you'll stop teasing me about emotions that aren't even there." Logan says, standing in front of a long classroom table. Virgil, Janus and Remus sit there, each maintaining their own postures and looking at him with disbelieving expressions.

"Logan, we can see your heart boner from here. You really think you can convince us with a slideshow presentation?" Remus picks his teeth, seemingly bored of the idea.

"That's exactly what I'm doing- What? Why would my heart have a boner? It doesn't have the proper parts to do that-" Logan looks lost, clutching the presentation button in his hand.

"It's an expression, Pocket Protector. It means you've got feelings for him." Virgil sighs.

Logan squints at him. "Of course I have feelings for him." Logan looks behind him, to the SmartBoard behind him. The board turns on, displaying the presentation title. "And those feelings are feelings of irritation. My name is Logan Sanders, and welcome to my Ted Talk."

There is a collective sigh from the others.

Logan takes a pointer stick (the one with the little hand on one side) from a holder on the wall, and points at the words on the screen. "This is 5 reasons why Roman is infuriating. And unlike your cognitive distortions may suggest, I DO NOT have a crush on him." He gestures with the stick where the same thing is written. "So, let's begin."

~~~

1. He likes to insist that he's the most handsome side, despite us all looking like Thomas.

It's ridiculous. All of their traits are reminiscent of Thomas's.

There are some mild changes they go through when they aren't summoned, but they are just slight shifts. For example, Janus and Remus both have different long hairstyles, and they all have a bit of a hair color change. Their features do shift too, emulating ones Thomas has seen over his lifetime that he'd associate with their personalities.

However, in person and in the mindscape, Roman really thinks 'he's the sh*t' (Virgil taught him that expression). He flaunts his beauty over everyone else's, strutting like the prettiest peacock in the flock. Sure, he's good looking, but the same level of good looking as all the other sides.

"You're all so handsome. But not as handsome as me." Logan recalls him saying in an episode.

He tries to use it to one-up the other's, even though they all know they look the same. He also enjoys flaunting his ego, attempting to emulate a lifestyle of the rich and famous when he feels like it.

It's rather ridiculous.

"You think he's good-looking?" Remus coos.

Logan glares, and changes the slide of the presentation.

2. He fights everyone all the time. (Except for Patton)

It seems that Roman has made the most rivals out of everyone.

He's rivals with his brother, he's got a rivalry with Janus but with more betrayal behind it, he's got his past rivalry with Virgil, even though now they're the closest friends, and despite making up several times, Logan is also his rival. Patton seems to be fine, despite their post-wedding event. Logan believes Roman is too worried of defending what he believes in against the literal embodiment of Thomas's morality.

"So, you two have tried making up, but have you considered... Making out???" Remus pitches, his smile all teeth.

Logan sputters a bit. "Puh- Wha- I don't think that would work."

Logan has in fact not thought of making out with Roman, thank you very much. Not even when they're so close, passionately arguing about who-knows-what in the spur of the moment, where it would be so easy to move just a little bit closer and connect his lips to the soft pink ones of the prince.

He has not thought about making out with Roman, because he does not have a crush on him. Period. End of story.

The two of them argue a lot. Whether it's how Thomas should spend his day, to the Chicken or the Egg dilemma (Logan knows he's right, by the way, Roman just won't see that the egg came first), to the ideal temperature for a heating pillow, to the best Crofter's flavor. They can range from productive, to stupid, and by the end of it they may just be fighting about nothing at all.

They jab at each other, come up with clever arguments, and although they're technically fighting, it sometimes feels more like a duel.

"Or a mating ritual." Virgil says under his breath.

"These points don't sound very negative." Janus adds, twirling some of his hair with his finger.

"It is negative. We fight a lot. He fights people a lot. Every issue seems to be a battle to him that he can outmatch, despite being better suited as a civil discussion." Logan stands taller, trying to defend his point.

"Well, that makes sense. I understand this point now. Go on." Janus waves his gloved hand in a dismissive gesture.

"Alright." Logan clicks his presenter button, and the slide changes.

3. He's loud. Super loud. All the time.

From singing to dancing to bantering, there never does seem to be a dull moment when Roman is around. Some may call it nice, but Logan would say that's a very polite description. It certainly isn't nice when Logan's trying to get work done, or watch a movie, or enjoy a peaceful breakfast, or most of the time really.

Logan has stopped working outside when he's trying to be productive because Roman will, without fail, come in singing, and then start a little fight with Logan that distracts him from his work and renders him unproductive for a long time because all he can think about is Roman.

"Hm... Wonder why that is." Janus interrupts, rolling his eyes.

"Well, you don't need to wonder. I said it was because of our fighting." Logan nervously adjusts his already immaculately placed glasses, resuming his point to his slide presentation.

It's odd, because sometimes even without leaving his room, he can still hear the sounds of Roman's voice in his head. He theorizes the absence of all that noise is making him subconsciously fill it in ( even though his mind also provides him with clear images of Roman's smile).

He can't escape the noise on movie nights. Roman will sing along to any song, scream at the most poorly-timed jumpscares, and no matter what, criticize the movie. Logan does participate in that last step from time to time.

During dinners, it depends. Sometimes, Roman will come in and do his thing, sometimes he'll make a dramatic entrance, grab a plate and then go off to work on something, and sometimes he won't show up at all, off on a quest in the imagination. Those particular meals are peaceful. Sometimes they feel empty, but so far, no one else has complained. Especially considering with Remus' and Janus' seats added to the table, dinner can be a wild event.

Sometimes, when Logan gets lonely, he'll bring his work outside. Every time, he can guarantee that Roman will be there eventually. He provides a healthy distraction, and he always feels much lighter after a bantering session.

But most of the time, he just can't stand it. How can one be so flamboyant for so many hours of the day? Logan had theorized it had something to do with overcompensation, his need for validation and attention, but then thought it was strange theorizing about his friends and went back to work.

Overall, not the worst trait, but it being applied to every scenario adds to the fact that he is infuriating.

"Hold on, can we circle back to the part where you said you thought of him smiling-" Virgil begins, only to be interrupted by Logan pointing his pointer at him.

"No, we will not. Next point."

4. He makes up stupid nicknames.

And he makes a lot of them. Even during serious talks, you'd think he had forgotten your name and was too scared to ask, so he supplies an abundance of back-ups to make you feel special. And they are quite varied, though all slightly jabbing. There are play-on-words, references thrown about... It would have impressed Logan, had all of his designated nicknames not revolved around him being a nerd.

"Hey Microsoft Turd."

"I need your help, Egghead."

"Listen here, Erlenmeyer Trash-"

"Calculator Watch."

"Oh Book Geeeerm~"

"Sure thing Specs."

Logan actually didn't mind specs, but his point still stands. All insulting, clever, but still stupid nicknames. Sometimes, he wonders if Roman keeps a book of them around. Somewhere in his room, filled with all the names he'll unleash onto his unsuspecting companions. Logan may have tried to come up with a list of his own in retaliation, but he couldn't think of anything Roman would think was clever. He spent almost a full night on it, hair a mess, glasses askew, head resting on his desk as he tried to come up with something at least remotely good enough. It interrupted his perfect circadian rhythm. Never again.

Except for the next night, where he tried the exact same stunt again, but that doesn't matter.

What does, is that all of those factors cause aggravation. He always feels weird when Roman gives him a nickname, varying from annoyance to a strange tingling.

"Are you saying he should stop?" Virgil interrupts, frustrated. "This point is going nowhere."

"I-" He's not sure. Although some of the insults are quite jabbing, Logan does want to support Roman's creative process. Not to mention, the nickname ‘specs’ oddly does hold a place in his heart.

"OoOoOoohhh, I have an idea!" Remus cackles. Although Logan is hesitant, he gestures to continue. "Okay, so pinky swear I won't try anything on you, but just close your eyes, and imagine how this nickname would make you feel if Roman said it."

Logan apprehensively closes his eyes, and Remus does nothing but lean slightly forward in his seat, and puts on his best Roman impression. Which is pretty good, considering they're twin brothers.

"How are you today, my love?"

Immediately, Logan flushes bright red from head to toe, covering his face in his hands and squirms. Remus's cackling intensifies by a tenfold, and the other two are poorly failing to contain their laughter.

"That's- That's- That's... N-not a nickname. Th-That's a p-pet name."

"Awww, but you're blushiiiing!" Remus squeals in amusement.

"Falsehood. N-no." Logan says, not enough bite in it to hold value. "We are going to move on now. That just... caught me off guard." He says, adjusting his tie several times, trying to compose himself. "The point is, his nicknames are stupid, and I don't like them- No, don't look at me like that Remus even that one- so it adds to his infuriating nature." Logan grabs the presentation button and clicks it aggressively to the next slide.

"And now, for my concluding point."

5. He is incredibly and willingly dumb.

Sometimes Logan thinks he wouldn't be surprised by the illogical things Roman would say. And then he gets proven incredibly wrong.

"Much like your... 'illogical feelings', mayhaps?" Janus drawls.

Shush, Logan is talking.

Granted, both Creativity twins have proven to be rather illogical, as they are embodiments of creativity, a force that knows only slight bounds to logic. Only with a defying mind can people push boundaries in the advancement of society. That doesn't mean however that those defying minds need to be intelligent.

"I believe Virgil specifically had called Roman a.." He takes out his special cards, flipping through them. " 'A Himbo'. Judging from his past and present behaviors and from the definition itself, it is safe to assume that yes, he is in fact a Himbo."

One instance he can remember is during a picnic in the imagination. It was Patton's birthday, and Roman wanted to do something special, so he set up a picnic for them all to attend. Logan doesn't enjoy visiting the imagination as much, as when he's there, things become more realistic and that makes him feel like a burden. Regardless, it was for Patton's birthday, and so he decided it would be polite to come along.

Everyone was guided by a trail of flowers to an opening in the forest, where a giant picnic blanket was laid out, pillows thrown around, and a large picnic basket stood in the center. There were many balloons of pastel pink and blue tied around, and the birds were chirping in a joint melody. It sounds almost like Happy Birthday.

Logan, as he approaches, hopes that his influence won't cause ants to emerge, because although that would be realistic, it would also be quite the nuisance.

He and the other's are just dressed in their usual attire, but as Roman emerges from the trees, he is wearing a shiny red party hat to go along with his prince outfit.

Roman immediately goes to serenading Patton and placing a party hat on top of his head, light blue with a little pompom on the top. He ushers him to sit on one of the largest pillows, and then goes around giving everyone else party hats. Logan stills when Roman gets to him last, a dark blue party hat with little stars in his hand.

"Do I have to wear that?" He asks. Although, sure, it does look nice, he doesn't want to seem ridiculous.

"Come on, you're in good company. Please? For Patton?" Roman bats his eyelashes at Logan, who sighs and lets him put the party hat onto his head.

Roman runs off to the birthday boy, and they all sit down. The time passes peacefully, songs being sung and Roman releasing a horde of puppies to the joy of the guests. By the time the food is out, everything seems to be going well, until they're all eating, and Roman pulls out an orange. As he's about to peel it, Logan speaks up.

"Roman, I would advise against that." Which may sound ridiculous to most people, but Logan is an expert on many logical things. ( Orange peels have a flammable liquid in them called limonene, and as both it and a balloon, made of latex, are non-polar, the liquid can dissolve the balloon, thus causing it to explode.)

"Against what?" Roman asks, but he does stop his attempt.

Logan adjusts his glasses, ready to explain. "Eating an orange near a balloon. As I cause the imagination to become more logical, doing so will most likely cause-"

"Oh puh-lease! I'm sure whatever wacky science things you're going to say don't actually work here! I mean, there is plenty of influence to go arou-" Roman, the spiteful side he is, gets even closer to the balloon, starting to peel it. Lo-and-behold, he can't finish his denying before the balloon right beside him explodes with a loud POP. The sound sends him jumping back in fear, screeching to the nine hells, and then falling backwards onto another balloon, scaring him again. Several sides laughed out loud at his pain, while Patton watched him, worried. Logan smiled internally at the karma, before getting up and making sure he was okay.

Roman did spend the rest of the party in a sulky mood, but the party was still a huge success. They had some good food, and while Logan made Patton a flower crown, he fed him forfulls of cake. It was a nice bonding moment. When everyone separated to return to the mindscape, Roman waved them all off from the imagination door. Logan turns back to look at him, but Roman makes no move to follow them all out.

"You're not coming back yet?" Logan asks, adjusting his glasses.

Roman sighs. "No, not yet. I'm afraid this dashing prince has a little bit of cleaning to do. And perhaps an adventure. You never know." He leans on the doorframe, smiling.

"Well, that is correct. I in fact do not know what you'll be doing." Logan nods to himself. "Do you need any help cleaning? I doubt I'll be much help with the adventure, but I do have hands." He gestures to his hands.

Roman looks quite surprised. "Oh, thanks for the offer, specs. I think I've got it all covered though."

Logan offers a hesitant smile. "Alright then. Let me know if that changes."

Roman quickly smiles back, a faint pink dusting his cheeks, and turns back into the imagination and shutting the door. Logan stands there for a moment, but not sure why. It's clear that Roman was not feeling all that great from the balloon moment. Even Logan, terrible at deciphering emotions, can tell that much. Perhaps he needs to let off some steam.

He just can't understand Roman most of the time. They do have so many similarities, being too proud for their own good, but it's almost like they're in two separate worlds. Logan, the learner he is, wishes he could explore Roman's own. Understand it. Understand him, and his way of thinking. Even though Roman is mostly dumb, he does make good points, and Logan tries to prioritize his input, as it's usually what Thomas is hoping and dreaming for as well.

~~~

The last slide shines back at them all. A concluding statement that makes the three watching sides snicker a little bit.

"And I believe he just doesn't understand how much we all think he's great. I swear, he's just so dense! It's so aggravating! How can he not tell that he's worth everything? Why doesn't he understand that we all care for him? That I care for him? He's wonderful, for god's sake! And that I don't mean to hurt him with my critiques. I want him to thrive! I-"

Everything stops. Logan takes a moment of silence. The three sides look at him, each with different degrees of anticipation. One looks pretty much ready to pounce out of his seat.

"...Oh."

And all at once, everything gets strung back into motion. Confetti literally falls from the ceiling as Remus jumps for joy, circling a very mortified looking Logan. Janus, the tired soul, rolls his eyes and lets out a slow, long clap. Virgil just rests his head in his arms.

"I can't believe this. You sit us all down for a presentation you probably double-checked and proofread, like a nerd, and only NOW you realize you were wrong all along? Why didn't you say anything, snake-face?" Virgil complains, sitting up just to glare at him.

"Wo-ow, it isn't as if I was saying that this whole time? No, it couldn't be." Janus deadpans, sarcasm spilling from his mouth like an old, worn, broken dam.

Logan doesn't move from his stand-still spot beside the projector, but Remus manages to bounce in circles around him, cooing. "Lo-lo's got a cruuuush! A crushy crush! A crushed crust of a crush! A crevice cracking ‘cause of the crushed crust-" He was going to continue, throwing expired banana peels around to substitute rose petals, until the sound of the door opening catches everyone's attention.

"Hey losers, Patton wanted to know if you-" Lo and behold, Roman walks in, regal as ever, smiling until he takes in the sight before him. The boring classroom look, contrasted by the amount of confetti that stopped falling as soon as he walked in. Janus and Virgil, wide-eyed and looking at him, completely still. Remus, caught mid dance, frozen in place with a smile. Logan, looking at him in the way one may look milliseconds after being caught stealing government secrets. Roman's eyes flicker to each of them, before settling on the projector.

"Roman. I-I can explain-" Logan starts, but Roman is already reading the words on the screen.

"... 'In short, he saddles me with unnecessary... feelings'? 'Unease, and uncertainty'? Who... Oh my god! Logan!" Roman looks at him, smiling in disbelief and amazement. "I know what this meanssss!" Filled with giddy delight, he sidesteps the table.

Logan gulps as Roman approaches, turning beet red as Roman takes his hands in his two own. "Y-Yes?" He practically squeaks as Roman looks him right in the eyes.

"Yes! Ohhh, this is so exciting!" The three bystanders watch, once again in anticipation, as Roman swings their interlocked hands.

"Yes?" Logan offers a small, tentative smile.

"You have a crush on someoooone! Oh Logan, you should've told me!" Roman smiles, completely oblivious to the internal facepalm of several present members.

"I-I'm sorry..." Logan looks down, slightly disappointed but still too flustered to say anything.

"God save the dense." Janus mutters, inspecting his gloves fingers.

"Don't be sorry! Come, we must make plans! I shall be your matchmaker! This is going to be perfeeeect!" Roman, sings, dancing out of the room and dragging Logan along by their still intertwined hands. The other sides watch them go.

After a moment of processing, Virgil sighs. "Well, I thought that was going to be resolved. Turns out they're both as dense as... dense people." He can't seem to think of any other similes.

"Welp, I'm just happy that they're one step closer to getting. it. on. romantically." Remus punctuates every word with some rather immature hand gestures. “And that they stop dancing around each other.”

"Who do you think Roman thinks Logan has a crush on?" Virgil asks, cogs turning in his brain.

Janus lounges backwards. "Well, let's see... Soooo many options. Either he thinks it's someone outside of Thomas's head, or the simple answer..."

Remus and Virgil both look at him, both with looks of realization.

"Patton."

~~~

[ianthe-is-a-bitch-and-i-love-her]

Common Myths

An excerpt from Memoirs of a Flesh Eater, never published.

Next Excerpt

Everyone knows about ghouls, right? Everyone grows up hearing scary stories about us, from parents telling you to brush your teeth or the ghouls will get you, to your friends on the playground lying about how they saw one with their own two eyes and it was so scary no really even scarier than that, to - eventually, as you get older - news stories about mass murders and human slaughterhouses and graverobbers digging up your grandma and biting open her bones to get what’s left of her marrow.

The stories are terrifying and vivid and mostly sensationalist garbage. It’s kind of a shame, honestly - a lot of them are really well-written. With the best ones, it’s hard to tell sometimes if they were written by a human with an overactive imagination, or by one of us.

Weird, right? You wouldn’t think we’d want to spread stories that make us look even worse to the rest of humanity than they already think we are, but as far as I can tell, we’ve been making up horror stories about ourselves forever. Our records are spotty at best - oral histories don’t always get passed on before the person carrying them dies, and there are none of us who can trace our family line more than a few generations before it gets too muddled by death to trace any farther. And as for physical records, those are even more vulnerable. Those can’t just be lost - they can be stolen. Used against us. As far as I know, there has never been a written record of ghoul lore circulated. Not until this one.

{Editing Note: Too dramatic? Maybe. But I like it. I’ll think about it}

That being said, though, I think we used to tell these stories to enhance our reputation. To keep humans too scared of us to mount a serious resistance when we came hunting. If they believed we couldn’t be beaten, they wouldn’t try as hard. I think we lived more openly back then, back before automatic firearms and high explosives and kevlar body armor and chemical weapons leveled the playing field. Back when those of us who chose to could hunt humans with near impunity.

{Editing Note: I don’t like ending the paragraph there. We weren’t all killers then any more than we are now. But we did kill. We did hunt them, and I think we hunted them more. I need to make them understand us, but how can they understand us if telling them the truth just makes them hate us more? It needs another pass}

Even then, there were a lot more humans than there were of us. That’s basic ecology - there have to be more prey than predators {Editing Note: I need to find a better way to say that. There are gentle ways to be truthful, and there are hard ways. Do better}. Working together, humans could threaten our existence even then. The stories helped, I think. If they were too scared to work together against us, then we had a better chance of surviving another day, another month, another year.

Times are different now. Fear is no longer a tool that helps us. Human fear threatens our existence. But we still make up these stories and spread them. I spread my share on the elementary school playground. Whenever any of the other kids told a scary ghoul story, I could always come up with a better one. Scarlet’s were even better. He’s always been able to make words dance.

He was my best friend growing up. We were the only ghouls in our grade, maybe even in the whole school. I couldn’t tell for sure - we didn’t see the other grades as much. But he was enough. He was someone I could be myself with. I didn’t have to pick all of my words carefully, or make sure that the thing I was telling him was a normal human experience. It was such a relief to truly be me, even if it was only outside of school hours and well out of earshot of anyone nearby. It didn’t hurt that we actually had some common interests, you know, like friends do. We used to play imagination games together. He’d conjure dragons into existence with his words, and he’d help me use mine to slay them.

{Editing Note: My academic advisor would rip this into shreds, but this isn’t a research paper. This can’t be dry. This needs to be full of heart, not just information. They need to understand. But I might have gone overboard a little}

Scarlet’s an aspiring author now. I’ve read a few of his short stories. Horror and romance, always hand in hand {Editing Note: That’s too identifying. Make that less specific}. I asked him why he thought we still told these stories about ourselves, why we still want them to think of us as more terrifying than we are, why we make ourselves seem larger than life.

He told me that it’s because they hate us. Because there is nothing we can do to make them stop hating us, so why not give them something more worthy of their hatred? Why not give them a comically exaggerated monster - one that bears only a passing resemblance to us - to hate instead? This way, we can laugh at them for their foolishness amongst ourselves, laugh at how little they understand us. If what they hated was closer to our truth, we wouldn’t find it as easy to laugh at. It isn’t always easy as it is, to look at the world around you and know that 98% of the people you see burn with hatred at the mere thought of you, and to meet that with laughter. How much harder would it be if what they hated was who we really were, complex and vulnerable and as human as them? How would we ever endure it if they beheld us for all that we were and still called for our annihilation?

Scarlet’s always been good at giving words to truth. I hope that I’m as good at using words to make a new truth. I want to make him wrong. So here is some truth for you. Here is the truth beneath the myths about who and what we are.

Ghouls eat people

This is true, at least in part; we eat human flesh. That isn’t always the same thing. I’ll go deeper on our dietary needs later, but for now, know that we don’t have to kill to eat, most of the time. I’ve never killed a human, and I hope I neve have to.

Ghouls like hurting people

Not as a rule. There are ghouls that like hurting people. There are humans who like hurting people too.

Ghouls don’t feel pain and can heal from anything

Ghouls have two foot long prehensile tongues

I can tell you from experience that this one isn’t true. We feel pain as acutely as any human, I think, though it does take a little more to hurt us. Our skin and bones are tougher, harder to break. Our muscles are a little stronger too. Not enough that the weakest ghoul is stronger than the strongest human, but it’s not an insignificant advantage. I was always one of the best performers in PE, and I’ve never worked out in my life. So we’re harder to injure, and our strength lets us push through some injuries that would incapacitate a human. But we don’t heal any faster than humans do, or any cleaner. 

Contrary to what the politicians said when they passed the Chemical Exterminants Act.

… I think this one started with a human fetish artist, actually. No. We do not.

Ghouls have two sets of teeth

This one is true, although most of the time you’d never know unless you did an autopsy on one of us. Fetish artists, go nuts with this one.

{Editing Note: Do I really want to directly address ghoul fetishists in the book that will redefine the relationship between ghouls and humans that has existed for as long as anyone can remember? Maybe. At least they have a vested interest in keeping us from being wiped out?}

Ghouls can’t eat human food

False, at least in the most literal sense. If we physically couldn’t eat human food, we’d have all been found and killed a long time ago. We can consume things other than human flesh, but they don’t do anything for us nutritionally, and they don’t taste good to us either. That doesn’t always mean they taste bad, though. If we eat too much it will make us sick, however, and some things will make us sicker faster, or make us more sick than other things. Some of us even have allergies. For example, grapes give me hives. A single chicken nugget will trap me in the bathroom for the rest of the day. French fries, on the other hand... I almost manage to enjoy french fries sometimes.

Ghouls have better senses than humans do

This one’s a mixed bag. Our sense of smell is definitely better. That’s how Scarlet and I found each other; we could smell the flesh on each other’s breath. But as for the rest… Some people say our hearing is worse, but I’ve never come across anything conclusive one way or the other. I might just have bad ears. Our sense of taste is definitely different, but I don’t think it’s necessarily better or worse. We’re just adapted to taste different things. I’m pretty positive our sense of touch is the same. As for sight, our night vision is better, but only sometimes. I’ll get to that in a minute.

Ghouls true forms are terrifying and inhuman

Definitely false, but there’s a tiny kernel of truth a little to the left of this one. Most of the time, we look indistinguishable from humans, which is definitely an evolutionary advantage. But we have three traits that help us when we hunt. They mark us as distinctly inhuman, so it’s a good thing that they only come out when we want them to. First, our nails are a lot harder than human nails, and we can cause them to extend, like claws. They can rip through flesh and most cloth without breaking. Second, that second set of teeth I mentioned earlier. They’re sharper, better for tearing flesh. Our mouths have to distend a bit to make room for them, so that’s a dead giveaway when they’re out. Third, our eyes. We can dilate them a lot wider than humans, and we can control their dilation consciously. That’s what I meant about better night vision.

Last one.

Ghouls are monsters. They must be exterminated

Keep reading. Maybe by the end of this book, you can answer that for me.

[like-rain-or-confetti]

Family Secrets (Demetri Volturi x Reader)

WARNING: Dark themes mentioned!

For as long as you could remember, your mother was always a rigid woman. She was constantly tense. You used to believe it was because she worked so much to keep the two of you going but after some time, you had to wonder if it was just a personality trait. She didn't have friends, or people she considered friends specifically. Her focus was always on you, the house and her job. Your mother said she didn't have any family but you. She was disowned by her parents and had one sibling that also cast her out. She never told you why. She never told you anything about her life before you. Eventually you stopped asking because she wouldn't entertain the question and instead got more agitated with the more curious you had become as you grew up. 

The next common topic was your father, someone you wondered about since your earlier school days. You noticed the kids in your class with their parents. Mum's, dad's, mums and dads, two mum's and two dad's. All had more information about their family than you did. Your mother also didn't talk about your father. You knew you had one but your mum hadn't been in contact with him since she was pregnant with you. She gave no reason why, nor did she give any clue about who he was. He didn't matter, she had told you and that was the end if it.  However being the child you were, that only raised more questions. 

Things boiled over a few months, living most of your childhood in the dark about your family. The questions bouncing around in your head. That was until you discovered some old photos in your mother's room. 

You were almost taken aback, there were two pictures of your mother both in different angles. She wore a sundress and sun hat, her head tilted back mid laugh, looking at something out of frame. Behind her, out of focus was what looked like a large dark brown door. To the left a red smudge that could only be described as a person and many other smudges in the background. After a moment you recognised those smudges to be people, simply out of focus like the rest of the background. You couldn't help but stare at her brilliant smile. Your mother had always been a pretty woman but she never smiled as wide as she had in this picture. Not that you could remember anyway. The woman was younger, identical yet completely different in nature. The mother you knew was very reserved, never having a smile that showed her teeth and practically lived in business suits with heels. Even a small smile from her had to be earned with good reason. You felt a pang in your chest, knowing that this version of your mother was long gone. Even more so, this was the person she wanted to hide you from so much. The other photograph had a what simply looked to be the wall of what you could only assume was the same building and people passing by in the background. Suddenly the photographs were ripped from your hands. You let out a startled cry as your mother looked at you with a fury you had never seen before. "I raised you better than to go through people's belongings!" She snapped. "But I-" You quickly discovered there was no room for excuses. "Go to your room!" You couldn't understand what made her so angry about those photographs but you didn't dare argue, the subject immediately dropped the next day. 

It wasn't long until there was bigger worries. It started off with small but odd symptoms. Until they became so frequent that they couldn't be ignored. A doctor's appointment turned into many. The doctors appointments moved to hospital appointments and that was when everything went very wrong. 

Your mother's illness was very aggressive so much so you had been forced to face the fact that you thought she'd be around for many decades yet, you woke up one morning to the fact that she only had months left. She eventually stopped working and had a couple of appointments with lawyers. It didn't take long for you to figure out why such meetings were happening. It became clear that any well moment she had, she was tying up loose ends. The house would be taken care of, as well as her burial, her money going to you in inheritance.  However there was one thing that you refused to think about and she struggled to bring up. An even further harsh reality that not everything could be fixed. You were still young. Whilst late teens, you were still regarded a child. You had no other family to live with or contact, it was more than likely that you'd be put into the foster system for at least a year and then be left to figure it out on your own. Secretly you couldn't help but feel anger towards your mother for that. This is what happens! You would think to yourself internally. This is what happens when kids don't have family! 

As time went on, hospital appointments became admissions. That was when you had to start packing some things for her and that was when you found even more things. Your brow furrowed to find some old letters, they weren’t recent. You could tell by their condition but they weren’t dated. You quickly skimmed the letter, this was someone your mother was romantically involved with. That was clear but who it was from wasn’t so clear. There had been no mention of you and the more you read the more apparent it became that this letter as well as the others were older than you. All were written and initialed by the same person. ‘D.V.’ 

You didn’t know anyone by those initials and to your recollection, neither did your mother. Or at least that’s what you thought. It made you wonder if you knew your mother at all. You kept your discovery a secret. You didn’t even know what you were looking at after all, some of the writing, you couldn't understand. This person’s handwriting was elegant and neat and in complete cursive. You’d have to sit down properly and read them to try and understand what had been written. 

After a couple of nights studying these letters you found nothing. They weren’t important, love letters that provided no context. Your thoughts drifted to your mother. She was weaker now, curled up in her hospital bed in Forks. Although she was just as grim as always.You wondered if you should tell her what you discovered, be honest about your discovery. You pictured her in the same spot you left her on that bed, night fall outside with blue-ish lights in various sections of the room. She preferred to be alone and luckily she was given her own room. Although you wondered if it wasn’t so much lucky as it was a favour for other patients. People who were dying weren’t usually in wards, they were in private rooms. Dying peacefully and out of sight for some dignity. It was hard to picture that she could be one of those people, but it was a reality you had to face. Even if with everyday, you waited to hear from doctors when she got to go home. However, all they ever told you in gracious terms was that those chances got slimmer each passing day. You imagined a doctor entering with a warm smile, a smile beyond his years as well as his wisdom.  “You’re working the night shift tonight?” Your mother would ask him.  “Yes, Ms (L/N).” The doctor would nod, his appearance and his voice being something of an angel. “I’m here to check up on you. How are you feeling today?”  “Like a useless bag of bones,” Your mother would mutter. “useless.”  "You are most certainly not useless." The doctor would smile with sad eyes yet a twinkle would still resonate, as though he knew this to be fact. "You're a mother after all." She nodded. "They won't need me anymore. They're grown up."  "My wife likes to believe our children, no matter how old, will always be children." Your mothers mouth twisted. "She is correct, Doctor. We would do anything for our children." She seemed distracted almost immediately. “Would you turn on the TV?” 

You blinked, shaking the thought away before checking your watch. Ten o’clock. You called it a night, watching a movie before bed. The next you, you began your routine, getting ready, making sure the house was in order before finally collecting some things to leave for the hospital. The place almost becoming a second home. 

As you arrived, you found your mother reading a book, noting it to be one of her favourites. She enjoyed books about travelling to far away places, even a few romances about someone meeting the love of their life in a foreign place. She looked up at you, marking her page before placing it at her bedside.  “Hello, did you sleep well?” She asked.  “Hey.” You smiled at her. “Yeah, I didn’t seem to notice the silence as much this time.” You struggled to feel completely comfortable in that house. You hadn’t wanted to leave your previous house and so moving to your current one left you with a sour expression and a nasty attitude. You had always told yourself you moved for her, rather than because you didn’t have a choice. Although you hadn’t realised that mindset would backfire. The house didn’t feel like home and now that your mother had been in hospital for some time, you felt that you were intruding.  “That’s good.” She nodded, looking a little more peaceful. “Very good.”  “Can I ask you something?” You asked hesitantly and she hummed in confirmation as you took a seat at her bedside. “When I was packing you another bag the another night, I found some old letters.” Her brow furrowed slightly. “They were rather personal.” You added. “Signed by a ‘D.V.’? Your mother sighed with a frustrated eye roll. ”I...who is that?” You asked.  “No one worth while. Back then when I knew that person, I was young and stupid.”  “So why do you still have them?”  “I don’t know!” She snapped. “They aren’t important!” 

A knock at the door interrupted your conversation. You were startled to see who had walked in the door. A man with blonde slicked back hair, pale skin and gold eyes entered. You must have seen him passing by before as it was the same doctor you had imagined as a scenario in your head last night. You couldn’t help but look mildly confused.  “Ms (L/N).” The doctor nodded to your mother.  “Dr Cullen.” She greeted him in response. Your eyes shifted between him and your mother in confusion.  “This is (Y/N).” Your mother nodded at you.  “Ah, hello there (Y/N). I haven’t seen you since you were a baby, forgive me for not recognising you.” Dr Cullen smiled, reaching out his hand for a handshake. You reciprocated the motion. “Please, call me Carlisle.”  “Nice to meet you.” You said quietly, unable to shake off his statement. He had said that he hadn’t seen you since you were a baby but he looked younger than your mother and barely ten years older than yourself. Whilst it was possible mathematically, you couldn’t help but find something a little off about it. Then again it would have made sense that he was a kid at the time. With that, you shrugged it off.  “I’m taking over your mothers case.”  “Oh, okay.” You nodded. “Is that allowed? If, uh, you know-”  “(Y/N), Carlisle is an old friend who I havent seen in years. There is no rule against him treating me. The circumstances call for it.” Your mother said slightly exasperated. That last line stuck with you.  “What circumstances exactly?”  “I’m more ideal for your mothers case.” Carlisle said quickly. “It’s more of my field that the previous doctor, especially with your mothers condition.”  “Oh...okay.” You nodded. ”Tell me, have the two of you discussed (Y/N)’s next steps after all of this?” Carlisle took out a pen and began rummaging into a locked cabinet behind him. He pulled out a folder with your mothers name on it.  “Not exactly.” Your mother answered. Carlisle looked over at her. “Well, have you given much thought of where you’d want them to be?”  “I have given it a lot of thought, but I don’t have much options.”  “Well is there a relative (Y/N) could stay with or you’d consider?”  “It’s just us.” You said quietly, your eyes flickering to Carlisle.  “I don’t want them put in the system but i’m not in contact with my family. I don’t have friends that I could ever ask such a thing as to take guardianship of my child.” Your mother sighed. Carlisle paused before looking over at your mother. “Would it be possible to get back in touch with these relatives?” Your mother stiffened before shaking her head with a clenched jaw. “No. I cut all contact. I’d rather it was that way.” You noticed the look your mother and Carlisle gave each other, almost like a silent conversation. Or more so a one-sided argument if you knew your mother. Carlisle trying to get through to your mother whilst your mother stubbornly refused with a sour expression.  “Well, i’d have to begin the paperwork on (Y/N)’s situation for social services immediately.” Carlisle looked almost saddened and your mother shifted in discomfort.  “(Y/N), would you bring me some tea?” Your mother asked and you slowly nodded, before digging into your bag for some money. 

After you had left, your mother spoke up breaking the silence. “They don’t know Carlisle.”  “I understand but they will need to know.”  “How would I tell them?” She snapped. “Vampires were the monsters under their bed for so long, friends with the boogeyman and werewolves. You expect me to tell them they’re half vampire and who their father is?”  “He could take care of them.” Carlisle said quietly.  “You don’t know that. That place isn’t a place to raise anyone! They’re strangers!”  “I can give you my word that they’ll always have a home with me.” Carlisle assured her.  “Whilst I live and breathe, (Y/N) will never know.” Your mother insisted.

Weeks passed and eventually so did your mother. You felt lost. Still without answers and now with nowhere to go. You couldn't help but wonder what would happen to you now. Your mother never told you. After that day, your mother assured you that you wouldn't have to worry about it. She had taken care of it. You just had to trust her. 

Carlisle had been around almost everyday since you had first met and even his wife Esme wanted to meet you when she discovered you were in the hospital visiting your mother. Esme greeted your mother like an old friend a warm smile graving her perfect features. She was clearly very caring and nurturing. Your mother seemed to appreciate that and hesitantly welcomed it. That was very out of character for your mother...at least in your eyes. You had a lot of questions when you discovered that no longer would you be going into the system. Somehow Carlisle and his wife arranged for you to be staying with them. At some point your mother had agreed to this. However, you couldn't figure out how they had done so. They weren't adopting you. That much you gathered but once again you were only left with more questions. 

The Cullen's were a strange bunch. All had gold eyes, which you weren't sure was even probable to be adopting so many kids who had matching bizarre eye colours. All but one. A girl called Renesmee, 'Nessie' for short. You couldn't help but stifle a laugh and she too seemed to get amusement out of it. She looked to be the same age as you. Then it got confusing. One of the kids, Bella, married into the family and had a biological child with Edward, who was Nessie. Yet all looked to be in their late teens, barely two years older than you and Nessie.  Another being, Emmett spoke about your mother as if he too also knew her a long time ago. The family as a whole didn't make sense yet none were willing to clear anything up for you. Somehow they were more secretive than your mother had ever been. However, they did an excellent job at keeping you calm about it. 

Carlisle took some time off from the hospital to help you settle in. He understood this was a big jump for you and a very difficult time. Carlisle had been the most familiar part of your day and he wanted to be there just as he had been prior to your mother's passing. You decided to give Carlisle some peace in his office. 

You moved to the kitchen to see Esme chopping vegetables. She looked up with a bright warm smile. "Hello, (Y/N)." "Hi, Esme." You returned her smile somewhat shyly. "What are you making?" "Renesmee is craving some vegetable soup. I'm thinking it's the time of year." Esme responded, her smile never faltering. If anyone appreciated your efforts, it was Esme. She had immediately wanted to reassure you when you had first come to stay with them. Her words stuck with you. "I know it was just you and your mother before. Living with such a large family must be very different. We'll do our best to make sure you're comfortable here. You're a part of the family now." 

Ever since you had tried to be a part of the family, rather than the outsider- as much as you wanted to hide away in your room that you had to share with Renesmee. Esme was the first to notice and she was more than encouraging. She noted the tiny details such as you no longer lingering in the kitchen doorway and now willing to approach her, just as you did to get a closer look at the pot.  "It is getting colder." You nodded. "It could be the change of weather." "I agree." Esme responded. "Would you like to help?" You thought about it. "I don't know if I can be much help." You said meekly. "I, uh, wasn't allowed near knives a lot of the time with my mum." 

You expected Esme to be confused but instead a flash of recognition rushed over her face before her usual smile. "Well, they are dangerous." Esme responded. "Here. I'll show you." "Really?" Your eyes lit up. Your mother never had time for things like this so to have Esme offer was a surprise. "Of course!" She stepped to the side, gesturing for you to stand beside her as she reached for another knife. "I'll get you to cut these." Esme put some newly washed leeks on the chopping board in front of you. You picked up the knife and Esme immediately advised you. "Put this hand on the leeks but tuck your fingers in like this, it's safer." You copied her. "Like this?" "Yes." She praised. "You hold the knife like this." She showed you where she positioned her fingers around the knifes handle. You followed suit. "That's it." You couldn't help but smile as you cut into the leek. "Well done! Those are excellent size of pieces too." Esme praised with a small grin, like a proud mother. 

You and Esme kept conversation going. Suddenly you squeaked, the knife dropping onto the cutting board with a clatter. You immediately covered your thumb. Esme however remained calm, even offering a comforting smile. "Not to worry, it doesn't look too bad." You put your bleeding thumb to your mouth before recoiling sharply. Your mother's scolding returning to your mind. Her eyes always widened before she'd swat your hand away from your mouth, demanding you didn't do it. She never told you why she was to against you doing it. She did it herself. All she would say is that it's disgusting. Esme, on the other hand, said nothing about it simply taking your hand and leading you to the sink to run it under some cold water. "It was bound to happen." She said simply. "Renesmee has done it plenty of times. She can be as clumsy as her mother used to be at times." "Someone can stop being clumsy?" You looked over at Esme who seemed to ponder the question. "Hm, perhaps that's poor phrasing. Bella still has her stumbles ever now and then but back when we first met her...?" Esme trailed off, giggling. "Bella fell many times. She got a paper cut from a birthday gift from Alice, you know." "Really?" You cracked an amused smile. Esme nodded. "Yes. Cut it on the corner of her gift, the wrapping paper no less." Esme chuckled to herself. "It drove Edward wild." She continued. "He was always so worried about her. Even now, he'll still forget how capable she is." "Never underestimate a woman." You smirked and Esme grinned. "Indeed." "Was it just paranoia or did he have reason to be worried?" Esme's smile faltered, as though remembering something bad. "Sometimes he had reason..." Her smile returned quickly. "Although mostly he was worrying over nothing." She said almost as though assuring you.  However, your mind latched to her hesitation. "I'm sorry, I ask a lot of questions. I didn't mean to bring up bad memories." You apologised. "Never be afraid to ask questions in this house. It's a good thing. You're clever. I know you have a lot of questions." You said nothing as she continued. "I can't give you all the answers right now but I promise you will get them." "Can I ask some right now?" "I'll do my best to answer them." She nodded. "How did you know my mum and how did you know me? She never mentioned you." Esme pondered the question. "I can tell you how we met you?" Esme offered and you nodded frantically. "Although I can't go into every detail. Just know you'll know soon enough." You nodded in response.. "We met your mother when she was young, before she had you and she loved to travel. She had begun to see the magnificent things about the world and was eager for more. After a year, she returned one night at our doorstep. She was scared and had a baby in her arms. We helped her get back on her feet but by the time you were weeks old she insisted that she could do things on her own and since then she had moved around. Carlisle took her case, recognising her name.” "Do you know who my dad is?" You asked hurriedly and Esme stiffened. "Yes. Your mother told us that night. We know him but not on a personal level.” You wanted to know more but before you could ask, Esme put a hand on top of yours. "That's all I can tell you, right now but you will know everything soon. If you want to." 

Renesmee flopped onto her bed with a huff mumbling into the covers about being tired. "You and me both." You stretched. It had been two days since you had last slept. You had always struggled with sleeping every night and no amount of doctors appointments seemed to help. Your mother eventually gave in, assuring you it was fine and perhaps you were just different that way. However she made you promise you'd keep that to herself. That was until you started living with the Cullen's however. You noticed that the Cullen's seemed to be the same and even more so, Renesmee also only slept a couple days at a time. The two of you bonded over that. 

"Sometimes I just feel like I'm different from everyone else." You had once told her. "We are." She responded brightly. "We're rare." "What?" You laughed. "How do you know!?" "I just do!" She grinned. "Oh Renesmee..." You sighed after your laughter died down. "You talk so much crap sometimes." Her laughter roared back to life and she pushed you. You nearly fell off her bed in the process only making the two of you laugh harder. "You are though." Renesmee said finally, rolling into her side to face you. "You just don't know it yet." You sighed. "I mean it." She insisted. "You and I are more alike than you think. We're rare. You'll see." She rolled back onto her back, a moment of silence filling the room. "We're so cool." She finished and you scoffed with a giggle. 

 A few days later, you were with Carlisle in his office. You asked if you could sit with him, enjoying the peace. Somehow by design, the office was away from the house. You found that most weren't built that way. Carlisle agreed and you watched as he wrote in the same cursive writing that those letters had before. You thought about your time with the Cullen's. In the strangest way, they had their oddities and secrets. The secrets you had grown accustomed to thanks to your mother but the oddities bugged you. You never saw them eat, they'd leave every week for one night leaving only you and Renesmee. They never went to bed before you and we're always awake before you. They grew worried about the sunlight on the days it threatened to break through the grey clouds. Their eyes changed colour. Something about them free you closer and that tempted you to tell a secret you had never told anyone. 

"Carlisle, can I talk to you about something?" You asked your eyes peeling away from his writing and rising to his face. He paused, looking up at you. "Of course. Is something wrong?" "No, I- uh... I've never told anyone this, not even my mum. I feel like I can trust you with this and that you won't think i’m...weird." You admitted. Carlisle smiled at you. "I'm good with 'weird' individuals. You tend to find that they're truly magnificent. Go ahead." You shifted in your seat. "I don't know if it's some dumb teenage thing but...I think I'm different from other kids my age." "In what way?" Carlisle asked seemingly intrigued, putting down his pen and resting his head on his hand. "I dunno, I just the feeling...it was little things." "It's alright." Carlisle reassured you. "I'm here to help." You leaned forward slightly. "So, when I was little, I fell off a balcony. Fourteen foot drop and I felt the pain, tried to get up but my left leg gave out on me. I remember my mother screaming that I had broken my leg. She took me to a hospital, by the time I arrived, I felt better. My X-rays came back saying I was absolutely fine. I thought I had super powers, I fixed my broken leg. After that my mother insisted to the doctor's she never said a 'fourteen foot drop'. She said I fell at a 'four feet drop'. She took me there because of how awkwardly I landed and was concerned about my leg." Slowly you shook your head. "I remember that day like it was yesterday. I remember perfectly what she said and I remember where I fell. It was fourteen feet. " You took a breath. "I remember every birthday, every Christmas and every miniscule minute in between." You continued. "I don't sleep every night. I don't get tired like everyone else. I always heard things others couldn't." You swallowed, leaning back in your chair. "My mother lied to so many people about events in my life and I don't understand why. Most of all, I don't understand why I feel so different from others. Like an imposter but even I don't know what lies underneath." 

You looked at your lap momentarily before lifting your gaze to examine Carlisle's expression. He didn't look appalled or uncomfortable, in fact he looked exactly the opposite. Perhaps he heard this sort of thing every day. "Am I crazy?" You asked lightly. Carlisle shook his head. "No, not at all. As a matter of fact, I believe you're very intelligent. You pick up smaller details that others don't. You're seeing the pieces of a puzzle and are trying to out them together. However, you haven't seen the full picture. So how can you really know what you're looking at?" Carlisle continued. "I can help you. I can answer all of these questions but once I do, your life will be changed forever. It can't be ignored and whatever you wish to do with the information I give you. I want to support you with. Are you prepared for that?" You nodded. 

Carlisle moved to a sofa and gestured for you to sit beside him. "This is a long story and I need to keep an open mind and listen to all of it first." You nodded. "We knew your mother through a group of individuals. She had just finished her studies and was travelling the world with her friends. She wanted to go everywhere and anywhere. She was young and wanted to see everything, now that she was free from responsibilities. She went to Volterra, Italy." You remembered the photographs you saw of her smiling, looking at something out of frame, mid laugh. "They wanted to see the castle there." Carlisle quickly dug out a box and inside were the same pictures you had discovered. He had stored them away for you, no questions asked. He pointed to one. "This is the fountain outside of the castle and in the background you can see blurred figures. Cameras weren't the best back then but this is a line of tourists to go and see inside the castle. He pointed to a particular red blur. "It is beyond likely that we know who this is. A woman named Heidi. She's a part of a group called the Volturi." You soon noticed he had photos that you hadn't seen before. The third was one that was definitely of the same day and time. Another angle, minutes before or after the previous two. However, the tourist line was more clearer behind your mother in this shot. This 'Heidi' was in a red tight dress with high heels and her brown curled hair framed her perfect face. Your eyes narrowed, noticing that this 'Heidi' was looking directly at your mother. "Heidi offered your mother and her friends a tour, free of charge." Your mother never took free samples, she would always pull you away, looking unnerved by anyone who offered anything free. Carlisle sighed, as though struggling to find the right words. "Your mother's life changed that day. She, like, many other humans never believed in monsters but she learned they can be very real and they aren't under the bed. The group, as I mentioned, are known as the Volturi. They're almost royalty in our kind...the vampire world." Your eyes narrowed. "Let me finish. It sounds bizarre right now but you need to hear everything to understand." Carlisle reminded you and you nodded, pushing back your building questions. "Those tours are organised for that group to feed upon humans and that day, your mother was the only one who survived. She had watched her friends and strangers from all walks of life be murdered. She was given a choice, she could live and do what was asked of her with no questions, or she could die with the others. She was young and would have done anything to live, like everyone else and so she agreed. Your mother met a man named Demetri. He too was a part of the Volturi- a vampire. Your mother was very drawn to him and the two of them spend more time together." Carlisle tilted his head. "They were in love." "D.V..." you whispered under your breath, remembering the letters. Carlisle nodded. "An old friend of mine, Aro, is the leader of the Volturi. One of three. He took interest in my grand daughter after she was born." Your face scrunched up in disgust and Carlisle chuckled. "Not like that. You'll understand, you're doing well." Carlisle continued. "He wanted to learn more about what she is but due to our history with the Volturi, we'd never allow him near her. Renesmee was a child, not an experiment. So he wanted one to study. Demetri was selected to help create one...and Demetri chose your mother. Which is why she lived." You trembled slightly but continued to listen which Carlisle seemed to appreciate. "Your mother didn't know Aro's plan and had grown very attached to Demetri, soon enough she was pregnant. By then, she found out her purpose. She didn't want her child to be studied, no matter what it originated from. So when she gave birth, it was a miracle she survived. Whether it was preparation or luck, no one knew. She took the baby and fled. By then Aro had grown bored of the idea and didn't come after her. Neither did Demetri. Months had passed and she was on my doorstep holding a baby and begging for my help. The rest you know." Carlisle took your hands in his. "Renesmee was born to Bella and Edward. She is half human and half vampire. Bella gave birth to her whilst still human and my family and I are all vampires. We don't feed on humans, we've never condoned it. That's not our way of life. We feed on animals, 'vegetarians' if you will. We don't sleep, every week we leave you and Renesmee to hunt. Renesmee was the first hybrid the Volturi had ever seen and Aro wanted to know more about how similar they are to vampires. I think you know where I'm going with this."  "We're rare, you and I!" You remembered Renesmee words from that night. "The baby..." You mumbled and Carlisle nodded giving your hands a light squeeze. "You did have super powers that fixed your legs. Vampire venom is quick to heal injuries. Injuries you and Renesmee are more susceptible to be because you are still half human. You moved constantly because you aren't entirely human. However there has been many differences with hybrids. Another Hybrid Nahuel was fully matured after seven years since birth. Renesmee grew very fast, and at this rate will be fully matured in a matter of months. She's taken a little longer than Nahuel. You however, have taken even longer than her. Her growth is double yours." Carlisle looked at your expression. "You were three years old but had the intelligence of a five year old. You've been moved schools and home so many times as to avoid suspicion, never staying long enough for anyone to notice why you suddenly looked to be eight within a matter of a year. These things aren't patterns. Renesmee showed me that. Sometimes your growth will be very fast and other times it'll be slower. Vampires don't age and can only die by fire. Your mother told me before she passed that she was worried you had already stopped aging. It's possible and you need to know that." "What?" You managed out quietly. "Think about it, (Y/N). It's been three years and you look exactly the same." Carlisle answered. You were taken aback that your mother had mentioned that to Carlisle. "You don't feel right around the other children because you aren't like other children." "Why would my mother hide this from me?" You asked finally. "I think she wanted to give you something that in the end, you can't have. A normal human life. She wanted that for you but...your biology, could never allow that. Do you understand?"  You remembered all the times your mother would look alarmed and swat your hand away from any paper cuts and you must have had said it out loud because Carlisle answered you. "I think she was worried you'd enjoy blood. I can't say I agreed with her methods, (Y/N). Suppressing instincts is never good for someone. However she didn't want you to have anything other than normality. I think it's important that you know that nothing your mother did, keeping this from you, would hurt you. You can survive on blood just as you can on human food but she couldn't account for the aging. I'm so sorry you had to find out this way. However, in the end...she didn't want you to be alone." 

You took a week to process what you had been told. Everything had changed just as predicted. Yet in the same way, it didn't seem to change your feelings for the Cullen's- only reinforce them. 

Finally, you approached Carlisle again. "Can you tell me more? About the Volturi? About the vampire world?" "I can, but might I ask why?" Carlisle answered.  "...do you think I could contact him? My dad?" You didn't realise how big an ask that was until Carlisle talk you through with it. Although he reminded you of his promise. He'd support you with anything you wanted to do with the information he gave you. If you wanted to contact Demetri, then he'd help you do that. 

Within five days, the Cullen's had a visitor. You opened the door to see a boy with shockingly red eyes, dark hair and wearing all black. Around his neck was a good crest, with rubies and in the shape of a 'V'. His eyes stared into yours with an empty gaze, he said nothing. "Hi?" You furrowed your brow, slightly unsettled before Carlisle stepped around you. "Ah, Alec. It's good to see you again. Please, come in." "Carlisle." 'Alec' nodded to Carlisle before stepping inside. You blinked and Alec suddenly sniffed once. "Smells like the other one." He said quietly and walked away from you. You looked to Carlisle sharply in alarm but his look told you not to worry about it. "(Y/N), this is Alec. He's one of the Volturi guards." Carlisle said, putting a hand on your back and guiding you to follow Alec into the living room. "Alec, this is (Y/N). Who you've been expecting to meet." You inhaled sharply as Alec was in front of your face in seconds. Whilst the Cullen's were wary of scaring you, their speed was limited around you. However, Alec didn't seem to care if he scared you or not. 

"You're age development is rather confusing." Alec most certainly didn't talk like others his age. Dared you say it, he was even worse than you. He'd stick out like a beacon. "Last I saw you, you were only a baby. A newborn." Alec said mostly to himself. "You aren't the first to say that." You replied. His eyes moved to yours with a piercing gaze. "So if you're Alec then you're not-" "Your father?" Alec interrupted and tilted his head and a small but very condescending smirk. "No." 

After a moment of silence Alec turned to you. "I've to meet you and then report back to Aro. That's all you need to know." Alec said flatly. Without warning, Alec grabbed your jaw within one hand, tilting your head to the side. "Hearing?" "Slightly higher than human range." Carlisle responded as you blinked. "Sight?" Alec asked. "Above human range." Carlisle responded again. "Smell?" "Human range." "Strength?" Alec enquired. "Above human range but no where as good as a vampire." Carlisle answered. "Speed?" "Above human...we learned that recently." Carlisle looked at you. 

You immediately remembered the time Emmett was chasing you. Your mother never allowed you to fun as fast as you could. The punishment was strict. However since her passing and staying with the Cullen's, you had began to relax and allow yourself to do those things, with the encouragement of the Cullen's. "Diet?" "Human food. We haven't introduced them to a blood diet yet." You shivered at the thought but couldn't help the creeping curiosity. Perhaps that was the vampire in you. "Intelligence?" Alec asked. "Highly." Carlisle smiled at you like a proud parent would. Alec seemed to catch this and stifled the urge to roll his eyes. "Behaviour?" "Well behaved." Carlisle said instantly. "Are they able to control themselves? Emotionally and such?"  "Yes." Carlisle responded. "How much do they know of our kind?" "They're learning." Carlisle retorted. "I see." Alec hummed. "Any gifts?" He asked after a moment of silence. Carlisle shook his head "None we've been made aware of." Alec nodded, seemingly satisfied. "I'll report this back to Aro. We'll be in touch." 

"(Y/N)?" Carlisle peeked into your room with a smile. "I thought you'd like to know the Volturi have contacted us. They'd like to meet you. Demetri included, of course." Your heart pounded. "My dad...wants to meet me?" Carlisle nodded with a warm smile. "It's your decision, if you so wish it. They're more than happy to accommodate you. Demetri is eager to see you again and they're pleased with the information we gave. We'd have to give them a some time to prepare for you. They're awaiting your response." Renesmee grinned at you in glee. You slowly nodded. "Yeah, I'd like to meet them."  Carlisle nodded. "Not a problem, I'll arrange the details with Aro." Just like that, Carlisle turned away. You turned to Renesmee, mostly in shock. She smiled brightly at you. "This is great!" 

Two weeks later, you landed in Italy. Taking a plane yourself was a new experience but your nerves were too busy with the prospect of meeting your father. Outside the airport you were met by Alec, this time with a blonde girl. "Hey Alec." You said and Alec nodded at you. "Hello again, (Y/N). This is my sister, Jane." He gestured to the blonde girl. Both wore stoic expressions that were horrifying. Their hoods were up. Instead of a cloak, they each wore hoodies and their hands were stuffed into the pockets, not a single bit of skin exposed. "Nice to meet you." You said to Jane. "Likewise." She said quietly, with an innocent tone. However their bright red eyes said otherwise. "This way." The two turned towards a black car. "Afton is driving us. He isn't one for conversation, don't take it personally if he ignores you." Alec turned to you. You nodded. "Got it." You paused. "My stuff?" "We've already got it." Alec responded. "We can't afford delay." You nodded. "Thanks." 

A man with black hair rose to a stand with a gasp and a grin of glee. "Ah! You must be our dear (Y/N)! My, how you've grown!" He hurried down the steps are towards you briskly as Alec and his sister moved to stand at the corner of the room. "Finally, I get to put a face to all the wonderful things I've heard about you." He reached out for you and by instinct you took his hand. You though he was going for a handshake but instead he turned your hand, encasing it within his own, his other moving to trap your hand in place as he hunched over slightly. He looked down at your hands before looking up to meet your eyes. "My name is Aro." So this was Aro. One of the three leaders of the Volturi and an old friend of Carlisle's. If anything he was the boss of the whole Volturi coven and guard. "Brothers! Come and see our little hybrid! They won't remember us!" The blonde and dark haired man who remained on their thrones stood up and walked towards you, although much slower and slightly less enthusiastic. All the while you really hoped that nickname wouldn't stick. 

"The resemblance of Demetri...it's quite surprising." Aro said to himself in awe. "Perhaps the vampires have the dominant gene." The blonde responded, sparing Aro a glance who dropped your hand as to watch the exchange. "My name is Caius." The blonde began. "Our sincerest apologies if this is uncomfortable. For us, it has been a blink of an eye. You were only a baby at the time we last saw you." "You were the last of us to hold them, brother!" Aro spoke up. "Indeed." The blonde agreed. 

You were surprised to hear the leaders had held you. With Caius' piercing stare, you were surprised you didn't have nightmare for the rest of your life. "Last but not least, this is Marcus!" Aro grinned gesturing to the dark haired man beside him. "It's a joy to see you again, little one. You have our condolences about your mother." Marcus' voice was move gravely, ad though he hadn't spoken for a while. A pang hit your chest and you nodded. "Thank you. It's a pleasure to meet you all." "There will be plenty of time for questions and answers. However I do believe there is a more pressing matter." Aro smiled knowingly. "Indeed." Caius raised an eyebrow. "Jane! Send for Demetri! He has been waiting so long!" Aro announced. "Yes, master." Jane nodded before she was gone in a flash. 

You knew it was him as soon as he entered. His eyes locked on you instantly as he froze. You heard yourself exhale, silence filling the room, only the sound of your breathing. Although you were sure everyone else could hear your racing heartbeat. The blonde stranger slowly moved towards you. Almost as though frightened every step he took would cause you to shatter before him. His eyes were a dark red, wide and unblinking. As though he didn't dare. For you, this was the first meeting but for him...it had been years and each one seemed to pain him. The blonde before you was clearly emotional just by the sight of you. Just as he was a few feet away from you, he spoke. It was almost a whisper. You almost didn't catch it. “Il mio bambino...” You had no clue what that meant but you couldn't find the ability to ask. You couldn't find the ability to speak at all, a lump in your throat. Emotions arose within Demetri quickly. This time, his words louder and directed towards you. "I thought I'd never hear your heartbeat ever again." You looked down at your chest before looking back at up at him. Demetri's hands moved to cover his mouth. "Oh that wonderful sound." You were taken aback at how attached he had been to the sound of your heartbeat. Your heart ached for him. So you did what you thought unthinkable. You moved forward and closed the space, wrapping your arms around him into a hug. He gasped in surprise, uncertain what to do at first. You felt tears build up in your eyes. "I found you." You whispered, mostly to yourself. "Yes, you did." You felt his arms wind around you, holding you to him. “Il mio bambino...” He said again. You held him tighter as you felt a tear run down your face. 

From that moment on, Demetri wanted to know every little thing about you. No detail was dismissed. You realised during that time that Demetri had never heard you talk so naturally he’d want to listen to you talk about anything. He was eager to know every tiny little detail and spent hours finding out, with a sudden interest in everything you had ever done.Although some details about how you lived saddened him, he never explained why. You had speculations why. Your mother spent your whole childhood trying to suppress any part of him within you. 

Whilst caught in a daydream, you felt a hand ruffle your hair. You jumped in surprise looking behind you to see a very amused Felix. "Look sharp, little one. The world is a hungry place.” Demetri rolled his eyes. “Not in here, they couldn’t be safer.” Felix raised an eyebrow. “Even with Alec sitting across from them?” You scoffed, standing up and grabbing your now empty glass. “Yeah, okay.” You said unconvinced. After pouring yourself another glass of water, you turned and reeled back. A black mist, like an tendril hovering inches from your face.  “Alec.” Demetri narrowed his eyes in warning. Alec retracted his mist with a cold expression.  “See?” Felix pursed his lips. "He...he wouldn't." You said shakily. Alec turned his head from his seat, his red eyes boring into yours. "Go on, underestimate me. Entertain me." Your eyes widened in fear. His face was void of emotion but his stare was piercing. Your eyes fell to the floor, visibly backing down from him. "Next time I won't be so forgiving." Alec said coldly. 

Suddenly a hand slammed against the table before Alec making him look up. Demetri stared down at him coldly with a low growl. "I won't tolerate anyone threatening my child, that includes you, Alec. Warn them if you must but threaten them and then the line will be crossed." "You should teach your child to know better then, shouldn't you?" Alec glared up at Demetri. "They haven't been here long enough to know.. but you have." Demetri leaned forward. "You know I tend to leave you and your sister be. So the least you could do is have some patience for (Y/N). I'd hate for you and I to have a problem, Alec." Alec growled in response but seemed to take in his words, leaning back in his chair. "Fine." He said simply. "I'll do my best to be... accommodating." 

You jumped slightly when Demetri peeked into your room, knocking twice. "Are you busy?" You closed your book with a quick shake of your head and a smile. "What's up?" Demetri paused as if not entirely understanding what you mean but continuing nonetheless. "Felix and I have some jobs to do and I would appreciate your help?" You looked surprised by Demetri's response and he smiled in amusement. "It'll be a test of strength too." "A test?" You asked, moving towards him with intrigue. "You'll see." He smirked. "Alright, let me get my shoes." The curiosity had already consumed you and made you unable to refuse the request. He led you down many sets of stairs and corridors. Finally leading you to a room that looked older and more run down than the rest of the castle. 

Felix grinned at you immediately. "Hey, kiddo!" Felix greeted. "What are we doing in here?" You asked, taking a look around the room. "Well, this room will be redecorated as well as the one next door. We've got to break down all the furniture...and some of these walls." "Alright but...there's no tools here." Felix snorted. "What?" You asked. "You're adorable." Felix smirked in response before pulling out a drawer. Like it was nothing he pulled the backing of the drawer off, tossing it behind him, then the sides and finally ripping off the handle. Your jaw dropped at the sight before you turned to your father. He smiled at you. "Over the past couple of days, ive been noticing that you could be stronger than originally thought. So, let's test that theory." 

The two led you to a coffee table before tipping it. "Try to pull a leg off. It's an old table, so it won't be too complicated. You just have to pull." Demetri crouched down beside you. Hesitantly you wrapped your hand around a table leg and tugged. Nothing. "Come on, you can do better than that kid." Felix grinned, crouching down too. "You're holding back in case you break it." Demetri added. "You want to break it so you don't need to be careful." "Think of something that annoys you, really aggravates you- got it?" Felix asked. You nodded enthusiastically. 

You thought about all the times your mother lectured you for questioning her. The secrets that were life changing that she kept from you. A father you were robbed off. You pulled and with a crack it came off with ease. Your jaw dropped, instinctively waiting for a lecture that never came. "Nice one, kid!" Felix grinned. Demetri smiled at you, ruffling your hair as he, along with Felix stood up. You had never known how much fun destruction could be. You felt a rush run through you, suddenly very eager to do it again. The two vampires smiled as you clearly began to enjoy yourself. You spun driving your fist into some wooden railing above a half wall. All came off with ease and you made a noise of accomplishment before the force of your spin caused you to fall to the floor. Next that was heard as Felix's booming laugh before he punched chunks out of the brick in the wall. As you all continued, you grew more and more surprised that it didn't hurt very much and you didn't even have a scratch on you. 

You were having such a good time you didn't even hear the twins approaching. "Watch and learn, you two." Felix gestured to you. "You're more than able to help after all." Jane huffed. "Why would we ever concern ourselves with such things?" "Entertainment. Again, look at (Y/N)." They did exactly that to see you have the time of your life with Demetri, ripping a cabinet open. 

“Are you guys sure about this?” You asked, looking into the mug. After a moment of silence you quickly apologised. “Sorry! I...I ask a lot of questions.” You said hurriedly. Heidi frowned slightly. “Listen honey, I’m not going to give you trouble because you ask questions. That’s a good thing, take it from me. Actually, i’ll tell you something i’ve lived by all these years, even when i was human. Only ever ask questions. It gets others into trouble. Never give answers. It gets you into trouble." Heidi sent you a reassuring smile. “Now to answer that question. It’s absolutely fine.”  “If we wanted to kill you, there is easier ways.” Alec rolled his eyes. “You need to become accustomed to a blood diet. We can’t always give you a  regular human diet.” 

Slowly, you put the mug to your lips, taking a reluctant sip. Your first instinct was to pull back sharply, your brain reminding you profusely that it was blood in a mug. Although you weren’t repulsed.  “It should be an easier compromise for you that it’s warmed up.” Heidi smiled. “It was a blood bag but introducing you to blood and it’s cold...is a little cruel. Especially since we don’t drink it cold.” There was a slight gleam in her eye. You took another, longer sip.  “It doesn’t taste bad.” You sounded slightly surprised.  “Of course not, you’re half vampire.” Alec said. 

Once you had finished it, Alec held his hand out. “Took you long enough.”  “Alec!” Heidi tutted. Alec scowled at Heidi in response. Suddenly, you had an idea. You didn’t let go as Alec took it from you. Alec sighed, sending you a look of annoyance. "Let go of it. Now." You smiled at him. "You're pushing your luck, little one." Alec warned you with a clenched jaw. "You could easily take it from me." You replied, still holding onto the handle of the mug. "Does blood just make you more annoying? Hand it over!" Alec snapped. "Again, you've proven many times you could just take it from me." For a moment, Alec's anger was visible and he pulled the mug from you...only to find the mug now in two separate pieces. You still had the handle whilst Alec had the rest of it. Alec sighed, sending you another look of annoyance. "Now we're even for you threatening me, truce?" You asked lightly. Alec's instinct was to yell no, throw you to the ground and break every bone in your body. "Fine." He said through a clenched jaw. 

"Dare I say it..." Felix mused and he and Demetri walked down the corridor. "...I think Alec actually likes them. They test his patience every couple of minutes but I've never seen him be so gentle." Demetri thought for a moment. "Or it could have been my warning." The two cracked a knowing smile at one another, both very aware that the latter just simply wasn't the case. "I have to agree with you friend. I was wary at first but a thought occurred to me." Felix raised an eyebrow at Demetri, pressing for his friend to continue. "Jane and Alec are the same age physically as (Y/N). Perhaps it'd do them good." Felix thought for a moment before agreeing with a nod. "I didn't think of it that way. I suppose it would be the beneficial for the twins. Jane may take some time though." Demetri hummed. "Well we do have lots of it, friend." 

After some time, you began to think about your mother, now that you were experiencing the Volturi first hand, it made you wonder about her. More specifically, her feelings on you. The quiet always did bring nagging and often negative thoughts. Alec noticed almost immediately something was wrong. What made the matter worse was that he actually cared. He hated that but somehow he hated seeing you upset more. Your back was to him yet he knew you were crying. You had curled into yourself slightly and were trying very hard not to let your crying be heard. "Are you alright?" Alec asked quietly, moving to your side but refusing to look at you. You jumped slightly, quickly wiping your eyes. "Yeah!" You said, frantically nodding. "I'm fine." Alec tensely turned his head to look at you. "What's wrong?" Under his stare, one thing was simple. You couldn't lie to him. "I was just thinking about..." You trailed off, finding it difficult to really sum up what you were thinking. “I had so many questions and secrets about my life that I didn't want to notice the differences. I couldn't ignore them when she was gone...my mum.” Alec was quiet as you continued. "I can't help but think...she was scared of me. Or maybe that secretly, deep down she hated me." Alec thought for a moment. "Your mother was annoying." He said simply. Your eyes shifted to his. "I didn't like her. At all. I was very disgruntled to discover she was pregnant. I wanted to discover she wasn't compatible and be killed. Clearly I didn't get my way." Alec cast you a glance, noting your look of horror. "We weren't allowed near you." Alec continued. "When you were born my sister and I were the last people on this earth she'd ever let near you. She was hysterical when you were given to Jane who delivered you to the leaders. I won't lie, I enjoyed the misery it caused her." Alec paused, as though uncomfortable. "However, I think it's quite clear that if your mother ever hated you, she wouldn't have clung to you as she did. She wouldn't have risked her life to take you away. The way I see it is the exact opposite. I think she loved you more than anything in the world. She may have hated herself for that deep down. Some kind of moral dilemma I suppose, wanting to love and protect a child that is half vampire. She experienced our way of life and decided she didn't want it for you. So even if it killed her, she'd make sure she protected you from our world.” "What if she gave me up? Put me up for adoption or abandoned me?" "You'd have been back here immediately." Alec said flatly. "For the purpose of our laws and that Demetri wouldn't have had it. He let you go knowing you'd be with your mother and that this castle, isn't the best for raising a child. So if you had a better life, even if it wasn't with him, he'd make that sacrifice for you. In all honesty though, it was only a matter of time before you were apart of our world anyway. It's half of your DNA, you can't hide that for long." You couldn't help but crack a smile. "No wonder you hate me, you couldn't stand my mother." Alec paused. "i don't hate you." You looked at him in surprise. "I actually like you but you can be so damn annoying." You laughed. 

 "You believe the child is gifted?" Caius said as he turned to Aro. "Indeed." Aro hummed. "It's quite fascinating. Although I cannot be certain." "Do you think it would be useful to us?" Caius pressed and Aro hummed in thought. "Upon occasion." "What might it be?" Marcus asked. "I believe (Y/N) can see what's happening in current times with people they know. I believe I caught a glimpse of it in action. They saw Carlisle before meeting him but didn't understand." "From what you have told us, that seems logical considering they didn't know their true nature." Caius replied and Aro nodded. "Our focus right now is to keep them comfortable whilst transitioning them to a blood diet. Then we will investigate this potential gift." Aro decided. 

You hadn’t been able to find anyone. As it seemed, you found them all in a room. You staggered back in shock. Blood pooled in one side of the room that looked almost identical to the throne room. However this one, wasn’t marble. It was stone, there was a wooden table and wooden chairs and in the middle of the room was a large, bulky grate. You noticed the three leaders were missing, yet the higher guard were not. All of them were present.  “I was looking for you.” You said to Demetri but warily couldn’t take your eyes from the large puddle.  “I see, well allow us to clean this up and i’ll be right with you.” You began to shake slightly remembering that the Volturi didn’t feed from blood bags, not according to Carlisle’s story anyway. As you stood before the grate. You froze.  “(Y/N)?” Demetri called out but you didn’t respond. You looked in horror at the large grate, slightly trembling. Everything in your body told you to look away but you couldn't...and then your eyes focused on a hand. 

You screamed, staggering back in horror. Demetri was quick to catch you in a vice grip. He was talking to you, but you couldn't hear him. Tears falling from your eyes. In that moment, you knew. This is what your mother was trying to protect you from. You remembered Carlisle's story and it disturbed you, making you hysterical. You tried to get out of Demetri's hold but he wouldn't let you. All the while, the story looped in your head. Your mother looked at the same grate. She watched as her friends lifeless bodies were dropped inside. At the end of it all, not only did her friends never come home, neither did she. She could never tell the tale, even though it haunted her everyday. You could feel the fear that she without a doubt felt back then. 

You continued to scream, shaking violently in Demetri's arms. "Demetri, move." Alec said, finally moving forward with his arms out stretched. Demetri stepped back as the mist glided up to you. Your screaming and tears began die down. You began to lean and Demetri was quick to catch you lowering you to the ground. Demetri wiped your tears before looking at Alec who moved in front of you. "You can hear us now, I'll give you the rest of your senses back in a moment. Right now, you need to listen. You're alright. No one is going to hurt you but you need to calm down. I'll give you feeling back in one hand. Move your fingers if you understand." Alec's eyes dropped to your left hand. Your fingers twitched. "Good. Now remember, be calm. Nothing is going to hurt you." You began to blink erratically, swallowing hard. Before your eyes could wander beyond Alec and back to the grate, Demetri turned your head away. "Don't look." You met your father's gaze. Demetri looked heartbroken, apologetic. "I need to be alone right now." You said quietly. 

It felt like you had gotten the best if both worlds. Your mother told you nothing, wanting to protect you. It had seemed wrong at the time but now that you had the alternative, you missed it. Your father was honest with you. Perhaps a little too honest. The truth was no longer a sought ally but instead something you wanted to run from. The truth always seemed like a bright light to you. Now that you knew the truth for what it was. It was dark. 

You didn’t even go to your room, you rushed to the top floor of the castle, a place still and quiet and judging by the layer of dust on everything. It was abandoned, as many old places were. It seemed even areas of the castle weren’t safe from being forgotten by the vampires. You hunched over, swallowing back another wave of tears, trying to focus on the wooden floorboards underneath you. However it was no use, the tears constantly fighting they’re way out.  Suddenly in the corner of your eye, you saw someone. 

You turned to look at them and froze in shock. “Have I finally gone insane?” You trembled slightly, staring unblinkingly at your mother who mirrored your sitting position beside you.  “This place makes people go insane. Believe me.” She glanced around the dark room, only illuminated by moonlight. She noted your tremble and exhaled. “No. You’re afraid and that’s a very sane thing.” “Was this a mistake?” You asked her.  “A mistake? I don’t think so. Beyond the fear, lies the truth. You know everything now, there’s nothing left to protect you from.” Your mother responded.  “But you had reason to.”  “Yes...mine. My reasons. Truth be told, i knew nothing would happen to you here. Demetri loved you more than anything in the world. Protect you maybe, but I knew him well. I knew that me taking you away would be one of the most painful things to him. So I took you. I got my own revenge in the end.”  “Fighting fire with fire?” You whispered.  “It’s what this place drives you to do. Kill or be killed, hunt or be hunted. Adapt...or fall. This place...it saves them you know, it’s their sanctuary.” You turned to look at her and she continued. “None of them would last five minutes out there, they hide because they have to. The witch twins are a prime example. They could never survive modern life. So they hide and mock us for being expendable, never willing to admit the truth that in the end, we’re all leaving them behind. However there is something important in knowing that, (Y/N)- in knowing all of this, knowing why i did what i did.” A tear ran down your face but your mother continued.  “It isn’t your story, it didn't happen to you. They’ve treated you well. You did not live my story and so you won’t hold it against them. I’ve already done that for the both of us.” Your mother said firmly. “Before you died, you were adamant I never discovered any of this.” You began but never continued. Although your mother seemed to catch on. “You know me better than that.” Your mother chastised. “I had to let you go, it wasn’t fair to you. At the very end, I knew i had to let you go and you had to go back to him. If you taught me anything, it was that terrible beginnings don’t always have to be terrible endings. So if it was best for you, i’d give him back the one he loved the most.” Another tear ran down your cheek, before the tear hit the floor, your mother was gone. 

Ghosts were a lovely thought but you couldn't say you believed in them. You knew you needed your mother in that time and so you created her in your mind and willed her to speak the words you were so desperate to hear. In that moment you felt at peace, whether you had fooled yourself into believing what you wanted. You didn’t know. You didn’t care. It was enough for you to pull yourself to a stand and wipe your eyes. 

You stepped down the last step, meeting eyes with Alec. “There you are. You had some of us worried.” Your gaze travelled to his. He paused, his eyes canning your face. “Are you alright?”  “Yes.” You whispered.  “(Y/N), there is a lot of frightening things in this world but just as there is the ugly, there is the beautiful and good things in this world. When you live through what i have, what i have survived, believe me when i say, those terrible things are nothing in comparison, you’d go through a million of those terrible things because that one good thing is so rewarding. You have a father that loves you and will always be here for you. If you want it to be...this is your home.” Alec’s words resonated with you. Slowly, what he was trying to say made sense. You remembered the memories you had already made with your father, with Alec, with the Cullens, Renesmee ... your mother. None of them were perfect. Most had to do terrible things to survive. Yet that didn’t take away from any tender moment. So you let it go. Just as your mother had told you upstairs, whether she was real or your imagination. 

“Alec, i’d like to thank you.” You began.  “For what?” Alec asked.  “For your time, your effort. Angry or not, you’ve been there every step of the way. So thank you, you saved me. This is home.” Alec smirked slightly. “I know what it’s like.” 

Demetri looked into the room, find you fast asleep with your book still in hand and open at the page, laying on your stomach. Your hands held it in place but it was clear to see you were in a very deep sleep. Demetri noted you were still in comfortable clothing. He quietly moved towards you before gently lifting your hand and sliding the book out from your other hand. He marked the place before putting it on your bedside table. Carefully he lifted one of your legs ever so slightly to move in under the covers before doing the same with the other. Demetri pulled the covers over you, up to your shoulders. He didn't want you to get cold. He was pleased with himself that he didn't wake you. You didn't even stir. He tucked you in ever so slightly. Whilst he knew that wasn't necessary, he couldn’t help himself. He'd missed so much of you growing up, this was the first time he'd ever tucked you in since you were days old. He turned off the lamp beside your bed before leaning down to kiss your head. Just as silently, he left, leaving the door open just a crack. He had noticed you preferred the door like that most times.