#which is why there's an eldest and a middle but no youngest

[shitpostingkats]

Feel free to ignore this, but I have to ask since I've been rewatching yugioh 5ds and you're one of the very few blogs I've searched that mentioned Satellite Bros age order. I'd love to hear your thoughts on this and if you know other blogs that talk about it.

WHY WOULD I EVER IGNORE THIS ITS ONE OF MY FAVORITE THINGS. THANK YOU SO MUCH <3

*takes deep breath* ok SO

Word of god canon is that the age order is Jack (19), Yusei (18), and Crow (17), at the start of the series.

But while you can make an argument that Yusei would have records, people who knew when he was born, or at least a birth certificate, Jack and Crow are orphans. If Jack is indeed 19, then he would have been roughly a year old when Zero Reverse happened, likely killing his parents, at the very least destroying a massive amount of city infrastructure. You tell me Jack knows his birthday and I press (X) to doubt.

Crow is apparently canonically younger than Yusei, but. His parents also died in Zero Reverse.

This. This straight up does not work.

Also Yusei is shown to be a baby when Zero Reverse occurred and if Crow's parents did indeed die in Zero Reverse when he was under a year old he there is NO WAY he would live much longer than that. That's just. How babies work.

CROW HOGAN HAS TO BE OLDER THAN YUSEI.

I will die on this hill. I watched the show thinking Crow was the middle brother and then learned their apparent canon ages after because he has to be older than Yusei for any of his backstory to make sense. Konami can fight me on this.

NARRATIVELY they are the middle and youngest child. Jack has Past motifs, Crow is Present, and Yusei is Future. Jack and Yusei's whole dynamic is the most oldest sibling vs youngest sibling drama possible.

As for Jack, I always like to think it was his birthday like, a week before Yusei leaves Satellite, because being a Newly Minted Twenty Year Old explains everything about his personality.

[uefb]

New fic in the works

Feeling excited but experiencing trepidation about this short fic I’ve been working on, which is a combination of three WIP one-shots that I finally realized today are part of the same story. It’s set primarily in the 1970s when Tina & Newt’s children are adults, and it focuses on their middle child Ephesus (Fife)—a natural-born legilimens—who has just taken up a career a bit too close to Newt & Tina’s own traumas for comfort. I hope I can pull it all together! Writing these characters in late middle/older age (I mean, they’re wizards, what is a “lifespan” 😆😆) is certainly a challenge

Hoping I’ll be able to pull this off and post it late this week!

[soobnny]

my girl — jeongin x f!reader ; the boys find out their youngest has a gf

(1.3k words)

It’s a once in a while thing for the boys to be able to eat out together.

Challenges usually pose through schedule conflicts, one or the other being absent, and timing. They can never truly catch a break. So, when the first sign of a temporary alignment showed, they took the opportunity in a flash.

It was going to be their first dinner together in months, one of their off days.

Usually, the next challenge of indecisiveness would present itself. However, their youngest is quick to suggest a place.

Apparently, they had really good jjajangmyun.

(The boys didn’t know then, but it was because the faster they could decide where to eat, the faster he could go visit you.)

(They also didn’t know then that jjajangmyun was your favorite.)

A chorus of laughter echoes through the little corner store as they’re served their third plate of food. Jeongin didn’t lie about their food, and it was a safe enough space for them to celebrate the end of their latest comeback season.

“Seungmin, you’re getting really brave with your jokes about PD-nim.”

“I ran that contract renewal like the military.”

They spend the night joking, revisiting their past, and being hopeful for the future. A few grateful messages are exchanged after liquid courage is brought to their table. And while a simple night, the boys knew they’d remember this day for the rest of their lives.

There’s quiet pop music playing in the back—the kind you’d hear in the early 2000s. And Han Jisung orders another plate of jjajangmyun.

“Ayen, the food here is crazy good. How’d you find this place?”

Jeongin snaps out of his mental chant at the call of his name, fox-eyes trained on the older boy before the question reverberates in his mind. “My girlfriend recommended it.”

A pin drops.

Their youngest has a habit of lying, taken after his roommate, Seungmin. He usually does it with sneaky smiles and a few giggles. However, both signs indicative of lying are absent, and the boy has the audacity to refill his plate and keep eating as if he hadn’t just dropped a bomb on his members.

“Girlfriend?” Hyunjin is the first to speak, asking the boy to reiterate what he had just said, even though he heard. Loud and clear, in fact.

“Uhuh.” Jeongin replies through a mouthful of food. “What?”

He looks curiously around the table. His friends’ eyes are glazed, and he’d expected the conversation to be over three minutes ago, but it doesn’t.

Jeongin is in the middle of another bite when all hell breaks loose.

“Girlfriend?!” It’s said even louder now, more amplified, and Hwang Hyunjin stands from where he was previously seated in pure disbelief. All the while, their eldest is having an existential crisis. “Innie, what do you mean?”

He perks his head up, pursing his lips slightly and tilting his head. “What’s the big deal?”

“You have a girlfriend and you didn’t tell us?” It’s Han’s turn to be perplexed, and it’s humorous the way his features mimic the dramatic shock on Hyunjin’s.

Seungmin simply keeps eating.

“Yah, Kim Seungmin. Why aren’t you as surprised as us?”

“I already knew.”

“Seungmin knew, but not us?!”

“Not my fault he trusts me with dating advice.”

That boy definitely knows how to add fuel to fire. Chaos erupts as the younger half harass Seungmin for knowing before them.

“How long have you been dating?,” Minho asks.

“Just around 3 months now.”

If Chan was out of it then, you wouldn’t know how to describe his state now. Felix sits next to him to comfort the poor boy.

“My baby has been dating for 3 months, and I didn’t know anything.”

“Sorry.” Jeongin responds bashfully, scratching the back of his head. He knew his hyungs would act this way, which had led to his decision of keeping it hidden for a while. He thinks he should’ve just told them right away.

Though, he thought they’d known by now. He wasn’t exactly the most secretive about it, and he was sure he’d mentioned you before.

And although shocking to suddenly hear that their youngest (and their baby) had a girlfriend, they will not have his head for it. They know he’s responsible enough to know what not to do, and it was a little touching to know the boy had enough time to fit romance in his life.

“Show us what she looks like!”

The boys get a selfie of you that’s set as his lockscreen, and it’s enough proof to have the boys cooing at how adorable you two would be together.

“Motherfucker, she’s really pretty.” Changbin comments.

“I know.”

Meanwhile, Han and Hyunjin are making up fake scenarios in the corner, scrolling through photos and videos. Then a message.

While their youngest is distracted, Han quickly taps on the notification.

(8:23pm) innie: I miss u

(8:30pm) ynie: miss u too!!!!

(8:31pm) innie: Wish you were here right now

(8:32pm) ynie: aren’t u celebrating with ur friends rnnn

(8:32pm) ynie: stop texting me and enjoy !!!

(8:33pm) innie: But i miss u

(8:33pm) innie: Call me later?

(8:36pm) ynie: after you spend time with ur friends let’s call

(8:37pm) innie: Wanna call now. Just for a second

(8:37pm) innie: Haven’t heard your voice in a while

(8:37pm) ynie: ok fine >:( give me like 10-15 mins

(8:51pm) ynie: i’ll call now

“Oh my god, she’s calling.”

That’s definitely enough to get Jeongin’s attention.

“Give me my phone back.” He reaches out to them, but Hyunjin is fast enough to swipe it.

“Answer it!” Changbin instigates.

Jeongin’s eyes widen in horror when he hears your voice go through his phone. “Innie? Oh—hello.”

You sound so shy, and Chan feels like he’s about to cry. “She calls him Innie.”

The youngest finally snatches his phone back when all Hyunjin could do was stare at you through the screen of his phone. You were real. Yang Jeongin actually has a girlfriend.

“Hi.” He mumbles, moving away from their table to talk to you privately. Though, before he does, he makes sure he leaves a threat to the boys not to follow him. “‘M sorry, did they scare you, baby?”

“It’s okay, I was just surprised.”

Jeongin visibly melts at the sound of your voice. “The boys know about us now.”

“I figured.” You laugh, and the service at the restaurant doesn’t do the warmth of your laughter any justice. He can’t wait to see you later.

“Can I see you later?”

“Mkay, but just… enjoy your time with the boys, okay? You told me it’s been a while since all of you were able to relax over a meal like this.”

“Fine.” He sighs, before a smile creeps on his face. “They liked your suggestion.”

“That’s good. Now go!” There’s a pout on his lips when you shoo him away. “Go have fun, go! I’m hanging up now. Love you!”

“Love you too.”

The wide, bright smile remains on his face even when he goes back to their table.

“Who has our Ayen smiling like that?”

“My girl.”

“Innie’s getting soft.” Minho teases.

Seungmin, on the other hand, fake vomits at his response, and another chorus of laughter bursts from their seats. The night continues through conversations over Jeongin’s sudden revelation, and the promise to let the boys meet you properly next time. He agrees if they promise not to scare you away.

And while he’d kept you a secret for a while, he can’t help but feel a tinge of happiness in his heart that the most important people in his life know about you now, are even eager to meet you. There is no better contentment than all of the people he loves aligning with one another.

The entire night, Jeongin itches in anticipation to hold you in his arms and hear your voice in person after his schedules had torn apart his much needed quality time with you. And when he asks to leave, they don’t need to know where he’s going.

One look at his face, and the only evident answer is you.

[tawneybee]

Okay so I had an intense fnaf movie theory

(⚠️SPOILERS FOR THE FNAF MOVIE⚠️)

So starting off, one of the major plot points of the film is that Vanessa is William's Afton's daughter, and that Mike and Abby don't seem to be related to them at all, right?

And there's a theory about the Golden Freddy Spirit BEING an Afton kid. Not just the blonde hair (the actor isn't a natural blonde, it was dyed for his role) but the way the kid seems to react to everything.

He remembers his death. That's a plot point for the other kids, that they don't remember their deaths and the drawings make them believe the Yellow Rabbit is a friend. But he does seem to remember, since he told Mike through a drawing that the Yellow Rabbit killed his brother.

It's uncertain why he doesn't tell the other kids, or why his main goal is getting Abby rather than getting revenge, but it seems he's playing William like a pawn rather than vice versa. It's only when William stabbed his sister Vanessa that he stepped in. And the way William reached out for him in the safe room like he was asking for help almost solidifies it.

Now back to my theory, I'm sure plenty of you have heard the theory that the Schmidts are actually Henry's children, not William's. It would explain why William drove 9 whole hours to kidnap some random kid in Nebraska if the kid wasn't actually random. Maybe a revenge scheme over some company fault.

So my thought is, the family dynamics with the Aftons and Emily's are switched in the games vs the movie.

Game:

Micheal Afton (eldest brother)

C.C Afton (supposedly middle brother)

Elizabeth Afton (supposedly youngest sister)

Charlie Emily (murdered twin)

Sammy Emily (supposedly survived twin)

Movie:

Mike Schmidt (eldest brother)

Garrett Schmidt (middle brother)

Abby Schmidt (youngest sister)

Golden Freddy Spirit (murdered twin)

Vanessa Shelly-Afton (survived twin)

I say twins because young Vanessa looks about the same age as GFS (although we don't know what year the photo was taken).

It feels like swapped dynamics to me. Garrett is a Charlie Emily parallel in their identical deaths, which could make both Mike and Abby Sammy Emily parallels as the surviving siblings. And the way Vanessa parallels Micheal A. (especially in her guilt and need to make up the kid's childhoods), would make GFS both C.C and Elizabeth. Honestly if GFS did have some sort of loyalty/passiveness to William murdering him like I mentioned, it definitely confirms an Elizabeth parallel.

I don't even need to mention how William makes Vanessa help him with his crimes (just like Micheal in the games) or how he plays with her guilt by blaming the mess on her (which suggests he would've blamed her brother's death on her, just like how Micheal feels guilty for C.C's death).

Sammy would probably also feel guilty for Charlie's murder, as that's how Charlie felt in the books when she thought it was Sammy who got taken. That was a situation that wasn't in the surviving sibling's control, just like how Mike couldn't stop Garrett's kidnapping. But GFS's murder could've been a preventable accident that Vanessa felt at blame for, just like Micheal for C.C (and probably Elizabeth).

MATPAT PLS NOTICE ME I THINK I'M ONTO SMT

[in-my-feels-probably]

Home - Benedict Bridgerton x Reader

Home

Request: Have you considered Benedict falling for a friend of Daphne's? Like if they're as close as Pen and Eloise but maybe with a little less drama? I think it would be funny for Benedict to ask for advice on how to talk to her and Daph being done. Just "you've known her for as long as I have."

Hi! Thank you again for the request, this is such a cute idea. I hope you don’t mind, but I made the reader a Featherington. I went a little off track too, it was easier for me to write that way. If this isn’t what you were looking for, I’m happy to take another request or alter this one. Sorry for the long wait on getting this out, but I hope you enjoy this :)

(Warnings: insecurity, middle child trauma, nothing else i think? idk, let me know if i missed anything)

—

Living in Grosvenor Square certainly had its ups and downs.

On one hand, you were mere steps away from your best friends. The Bridgertons lived right across the street, and you could visit them practically whenever you wanted. On the other hand—the not so nice hand—your family is the Featherington’s. Which isn’t an inherently bad thing. You loved your family, and could ignore most of the negatives. It just certainly has its pitfalls, being a Featherington daughter.

The Featherington’s—while rich and somewhat dignified—aren’t considered to be the most respectable of families. There wasn’t any one main reason why members of the ton didn’t much like your family, they just didn’t.

It wasn’t a personal grudge with you they had. In fact, you were quite liked by the ton.

More often than not, however, they didn’t pay much attention to you. It was easy to forget you were there when the rest of your family was the center of attention.

You were born soon after Phillipa but before Penelope, making you a middle child.

Your Mother seemed to connect with her eldest far more than her youngest, and that put a strain on your relationship. Not only that, you were much more akin to Penelope, having a lot more in common with her than your older sisters and your Mother combined. You were a bit of a wallflower, like Penelope, and it was a hard trait for your Mother to get past.

It wasn’t all negatives, though.

One of the biggest perks of being a Featherington was the fact that you lived directly across from the Bridgertons. You had spent most of your life over at their residence since the day you developed the ability to walk.

And, subsequently, the ability to walk across the street.

Violet Bridgerton’s first girl—Daphne—was born right around the same time as you were, and she decided Daphne was going to need a friend. Being the first girl born to a family of three brothers was a challenge, and Violet thought it best that Daphne should be able to socialize with a girl her age.

By the time you were both able to talk, you became inseparable. Just as your sister Penelope had come to develop a deep friendship with Eloise Bridgerton, you had come to develop your own with Daphne.

And by extension, you became good friends with her eldest brothers.

Anthony was the oldest, quite a bit older than you. He was already a handful of trouble by the time you showed up, and he already had plenty of practice teasing girls with his sisters as victims. In your first few years, he’d make it his mission each time you visited the house to fluster you, and annoy Daphne. It was harmless fun, and it never really bothered you, although he tried his hardest nonetheless. But as you got older, he became quite protective over you. It was like you were another sister to him, and you definitely bantered and squabbled like siblings do. As annoying as he could be, you loved him like a brother.

Colin was a similar story, although you saw something more to him. It was easy to, with the way Penelope talked about him endlessly. She could ramble for hours, making you listen to every painstaking detail. You definitely understood her affection for him, though. He’s charming and kind, much like his other brothers, but he’s also fun and witty. Daphne tended to favor him the most. They were closest in age, after all. Between her and Penelope, you spent quite a lot of time with him, and you certainly enjoyed his company.

But—besides Daphne—you enjoyed no other Bridgerton’s company like you did Benedict’s.

Benedict was different. He was more.

He was just as kind and charming as Anthony, and just as witty as Colin—certainly as annoyingly beautiful as Daphne—but he was more than that, too. He was sensitive and sweet, far more so than the rest of the Lords of the ton. He was passionate about art and love and valuing the little things. He didn’t care about marrying the prettiest girl for advantage, or inheriting her dowry. He cared about pursuing his dreams, and inspiring others to do the same.

Just the way he talked about his passions and values was enough to make any girl swoon, and yet he was still genuine with his words. It wasn’t for flattery or manipulation, he meant every word. Everything he did, he did for himself and the people he loves.

If it weren’t for Daphne currently holding the number one spot, you’d consider him your best friend.

He’d consider you the same.

You spend just as much time with him as you do with Daphne, and over the years, he’d come to cherish your company.

You saw him for him, not for his title. You listened to his endearing ramblings about his passions because you genuinely enjoyed hearing about them, not because you felt obligated to listen. You treated him like a person, not a prize to be won. It was all he could ask for in a best friend.

But that’s just it. That’s all you were to him. A best friend.

He was so sure that was all you’d ever be. Perhaps one day you’d be his sister in law, considering how close Penelope and Colin had gotten. You’d be family, and that was alright with him. It was what he expected. And then the unexpected happened.

He started falling.

—

The first time he noticed his feelings for you had shifted was the evening of a ball the Queen was throwing.

You’d come over early to get dressed with Daphne, wanting to help make sure she was perfect. She had finally revealed to you her ruse she was sharing with the Duke, you being the first person outside of their agreement to know. You were shocked at first, but as you listened to her speak, you gave her a knowing smile.

“You love him.”

Her eyes widened in shock, her cheeks blushing a rosy pink. “What? Why would you say that?”

“You love him,” you said again, smiling gently at her. “I’ve never seen you speak with such passion. With the way you talk about him, there’s no other possibility. One couldn’t possibly think that highly of another without feelings being involved—”

“You speak of my brother like that,” Daphne interrupted, chuckling when you swallowed your words.

You chose to ignore her statement, continuing to advise her on the best course of action for how to get through the remainder of her agreed upon days with the Duke. If the way he looked at her without her knowing was of any consequence, you were sure he felt the same way about her. All she had to do was make him see that.

When it was time to leave for the ball, all the Bridgerton’s piled into carriages. Daphne was hurried out the door, and she left with her Mother and Anthony, leaving you behind. When you tried to head back home to be escorted by your family, Benedict stopped you.

He had opened and closed his mouth a few times before he was able to choke out any words. Normally, he found it pretty easy to talk to you. But for some reason, the sight of you standing by his front door made his knees weak.

“I’m afraid they’ve already left,” he finally said, stopping you at the door. “They must have assumed you’d be accompanied by us.”

You groaned, feeling a pit form in your stomach. “I have no other way to get there. I promised Daphne I’d be there for her. Pen, too. She seemed quite nervous about attending tonight.”

“Not to worry,” he smiled, offering you his arm. “You can ride with me.”

You sighed in relief, thanking him profusely. “Well, aren’t you a lifesaver? Thank you, Benedict.”

“Of course,” he nodded, helping you into the carriage.

As you settled into your seat, a thought occurred to you. “Benedict…why are you still here? Not that I’m not grateful, but I don’t understand. You’ve been talking about going to the palace for days to see the Queen’s gallery. I would have expected you to be the first one out the door. But here you are.”

He was quiet for a moment as he took in your words, his eyes softening on you.

There were many things he could have said to you to easily explain it away. I’ll see the gallery soon anyways, or, I promised my Mother and yours that I’d make sure you got there safely. Numerous excuses he could have come up with to satisfy your curiosity, and yet, all that was coming to mind was, I can see the gallery another time, but I may never get to see you alone and sitting in front of me looking this beautiful with your undivided attention again, and I won’t pass up on the opportunity for anything.

“I don’t know,” he finally said as he shrugged his shoulders, feigning innocence. “But here I am.”

—

He didn’t truly acknowledge his feelings for you until months later, after attempting to ignore it for so long.

The second time he noticed was when he found out that the only reason he got into art school was because Anthony made a sizable donation to the Academy.

You had found him alone during yet another ton gathering, sulking on the edge of the party. Daphne had already gone home to Simon, and wouldn’t return for some time. Besides Penelope—and occasionally Eloise—Benedict was one of the only people you actually liked enough to be around. And seeing as both Penelope and Eloise were nowhere to be found, Benedict was your only hope.

You just hadn’t expected to find him nearly in tears, anxiously tugging at the cufflinks at the bottom of his sleeve.

It didn’t take much to get him to spill, and you found yourself pulling him inside to keep him away from prying eyes while he was in such a state. He told you all about Anthony’s meddling, and you knew it had crushed his heart to find out that he hadn’t actually achieved anything on his own.

“I know he did it out of the good of his heart…but I wish he hadn’t done it at all.”

He brought his hands up to cover his face, groaning into them. You reached for his wrists and tried to pull them away, but he wouldn’t budge. He finally relented when you said his name softly, letting you take his hands in yours.

“Benedict, it doesn’t matter how you got in. You’re an incredible artist, that’s all that matters,” you said softly, squeezing his hand in yours.

He shook his head, sighing in frustration. “I’m not. My work is child’s play compared to the other artists at the Academy. They all knew why I had even been given a spot in the first place. I’m an imposter, Y/N. A fraud. It was humiliating.”

“That’s a bit dramatic, darling,” you lightly chuckled, your smile fading when his defeated look didn’t waver.

“Alright, that’s it. Fess up. This can’t be all that’s bothering you. I know you, and I know you’re not one to give up that easily. You’ve been flustered all week, so what is it? You can tell me. Not that I have anyone to tell, but I won’t tell. I promise.”

His eyes softened on you as you spoke, and you could feel his grip on your hand get tighter. “I just…I’m tired.”

“Of what?”

“Of being second.”

You frowned, swiping your thumb across the back of his hand. “I don’t understand.”

“It’s just something Anthony said,” he murmured, keeping his eyes on your joined hands. “How I may be the second son, but that it doesn’t mean I am any less required to do my duties to the family. It’s rich coming from him. I’ve been second to him literally my entire life, and he’s only recently started taking his role seriously. I’ve played Father’s role since his passing. Isn’t it just my luck that he’s getting the credit for it?”

“You may be second to him in birth, but that is the only way you’re second. You’re every bit as good as him, Benedict,” you said firmly, but you weren’t sure if your words were sinking in.

He was uncharacteristically quiet, though his grip on your hands hadn’t wavered. His eyes were still on the floor, and his shoulders were shaking as he took uneven breaths.

“I know what that feels like, you know,” you finally said, making him glance up at you. “I’m a Featherington. A middle child at that, and it’s no secret my Mother favors my older sisters.”

Benedict let out a small laugh, shaking his head. “She’s wrong to. I don’t mean to be rude, but you and Pen are worlds more interesting and gracious than your sisters. The eldest, at least.”

“You don’t even know them,” you said in shock, but you couldn’t stop yourself from laughing, too.

“I don’t need to. You’re the only one I’m interested in knowing. Middle child or not.”

You couldn’t help but smile, although his kind words weren’t enough. The more you thought about just how second to the world you were, the more your smile faded.

“It’s not just being the middle child,” you continued, speaking softly. “I love your sister more than almost anything in this whole world, but I have always been second to her, too. She was the diamond of the season the second she was let out of leading strings, and now she’s my Duchess. I’m so happy for her, but it does put a damper on your confidence. Watching your best friend grow into this person everyone loves, and it’s like she didn’t even try.”

“Y/N—”

“Sometimes I feel awful, thinking this way. I know she tried, I was there for her every time she’d get overwhelmed. But she made it look so easy. I don’t know how she did it,” you rambled, taking a shuddering breath as you stopped yourself from speaking.

Benedict’s eyes softened on you as you spoke, making you want to shrink away from his gaze. He was being kind, and you didn’t know if it was genuine or not. If he was faking it for your sake, that was much worse than his actual pity.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make this about me, let’s get back to you—”

“Y/N,” he said again, this time effectively silencing you. “You can’t possibly feel that way.”

It was your turn to look at the floor. “Why shouldn’t I? It’s true.”

“That is the furthest thing from the truth,” he said gently, taking your hand. “You’re every bit as good as my sister. I know she makes things look easy, but she spoke just as highly of you as you do of her.”

You raised a brow. “Really?”

“Really. She used to tell me how kind you were to her, even after Lady Whistledown printed her supposed scandals. You were never judgemental.”

“I have no right to judge anyone, especially not her. She’s never said a bad thing about anyone, it isn’t right that people just took a scandal sheet as truth. And, if anything, she was kind to me. She, Eloise, Colin, and you are pretty much the only members of the ton that treat me like a normal person and not an outcast because of who my family is.”

Benedict smiled, squeezing your hand. “I would never dream of treating you any other way.”

You fought the flush that crept up to your cheeks, feeling the heat settle in them. You cleared your throat, shaking your head.

“Anyway,” you smiled, meeting his eyes. “I don’t mean to keep you away. Should we go back to the party? Someone may be looking for you. You’re quite popular, you know.”

Benedict couldn’t help but smile. And as he watched you look up at him through gentle eyes and an open heart, he couldn’t bring himself to move. It was like his feet were stuck to the floor, and he didn’t want to do anything to pull them up. He shook his head, keeping his hand in yours.

“No,” he finally answered, taking a seat. “Let them look. I’d much rather spend my evening with you. If you’ll allow me to, that is.”

You shook your head, taking a seat next to him. “I’ve got nowhere I’d rather be.”

—

The third time he noticed was when you, Daphne, and he accompanied Penelope and Colin to promenade throughout the square. She and Simon had come to visit, and she wanted to spend time with you and her family.

This time, he couldn’t ignore his feelings.

You followed behind Colin and Penelope, giving them enough room to speak privately without feeling like their older siblings were on their backs. You smiled as you watched Penelope look up at him, Colin being as gentlemanly as ever.

“It took him long enough,” you said, making Benedict chuckle.

“I thought he’d never figure it out.”

“Me either,” you agreed, grinning as you watched Colin smile down at your sister. “I should bash him over the head. I’ve listened to Pen spend countless hours rambling on about how utterly oblivious Colin can be. He owes me a debt.”

“He isn’t the only oblivious person I know,” Daphne piped in, making your eyes widen.

You had told her countless times about your feelings for Benedict, and how he never seemed to reciprocate them.

What you didn’t know is that he had done the same, on more than one occasion going to his siblings for advice on how to address them. Pushing them down until he couldn’t feel them seemed to be working, at least until now. And as far as he knew, you didn’t reciprocate his feelings either.

“I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you said nervously, silently pleading with her to drop the subject.

“Neither do I,” Benedict added, making Daphne chuckle.

She just grinned, ever so slightly raising a brow. “I mean Anthony, of course. It took him quite a while to realize that what he felt for Kate was much more than rivalry. I practically had to beg it out of him.”

“You’re a little matchmaker, aren’t you?” You asked, smiling at her. “Who’s next? Eloise, perhaps?”

“Perhaps…you?”

You immediately stilled, making them stop, too. “Me?”

“Don’t look so surprised, Y/N. You’ve been my best friend for ages, and I know what’s good for you. You’re lonely. And as awful as it is, the ton will start to talk. If the only people you talk to outside of your own family are Benedict and I, they’ll begin to notice.”

You frowned, nodding. She was right. Harsh, but right. The threat of becoming a spinster was looming over your head every season, and it had only gotten worse after Daphne married in her first season. Your second season came and went, and you were now in your third.

Without any prospects.

And it was looking like your baby sister was going to beat you to the punch as well. You were silent, a small frown on your face.

Thankfully, Benedict broke the silence. Just the thought of you marrying someone—especially someone who didn’t deserve you—made his skin crawl. He felt like he could keel over, and by the look on your face, he could tell you were feeling similarly. He couldn’t keep himself from turning you away from Daphne’s advice.

“Why settle?” He asked cautiously, giving you a sympathetic look. “Don’t let the ton pressure you. You’ll know when it’s the right time.”

You had fully made it around the square, now back in front of your house. Penelope was saying goodbye to Colin, at least for the moment. His Mother invited you and Penelope to dinner to welcome Simon and Daphne home, and so they’d see each other again in mere hours.

You gave Benedict a grateful smile, nodding. “You’re right. Thank you. If you’ll excuse me, I think it’s time to pull our siblings apart before they actually become attached at the hip. Mother wants us home before we join you later.”

Daphne chuckled, taking your hands in hers. “I think you’re right. I’ll see you soon, dearest.”

You squeezed her hands in yours, before going to gather your sister. You gave Colin a knowing smile, turning and heading inside with your sister in tow. The Bridgerton’s did the same, filing into their house one by one.

The second Benedict shut the door behind him, he collapsed against it, groaning. “What was all that for, Daph?”

“What? I was simply giving you both a little nudge. God knows you needed one. You’re even worse than Colin was, brother.”

“I don’t need a nudge. I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself.”

Colin laughed, taking off his coat as he headed up the stairs. “I could hear your stuttering. It was laughable.”

“Oh, piss off,” Benedict pouted, waving away Colin as he chuckled the rest of the way up the stairs.

Daphne offered him a small smile, letting out a sigh. She took his arm, leading them to the sitting room. After promptly sitting down, she gave him an expectant look, and he reluctantly sat next to her.

“Out with it,” she urged. “Why did our conversation with Y/N bother you so?”

“I don’t know,” he huffed, shaking his head.

Daphne narrowed her eyes, speaking gently but firmly. “You do know, Benedict. Admit it. You feel something for her.”

“Does it matter? She doesn’t feel the same way.”

“How could you possibly know that?” Daphne exasperatedly asked, nearly bursting at the seams.

She knew of both your affections for each other, and yet, she couldn’t bring herself to tell either of you about the other. It didn’t feel right, going behind the other’s back. She had decided the moment she knew of each of your feelings to let the matter run its own course. What she hadn’t anticipated was it taking this long.

It was getting near impossible to keep the secret, and she decided a little meddling was excusable.

“She’s never said anything to me that would allude to her feeling anything for me. What would you have me do? Ask her directly?”

“There’s an idea,” Daphne shrugged.

Benedict sighed, trying to shove down the anxiety he felt at the thought of confronting you. “You saw me out there. I wouldn’t even know where to start. How do I talk to her?”

“You’ve known her as long as I have, brother. She’s your best friend! Just talk to her. She’ll understand, I promise. She won’t hurt your feelings if that’s what you’re worried about. You know she won’t.”

“Then why do I feel like I’m going to be sick at the mere thought of talking to her about it?”

Daphne smiled, her eyes softening. “Because you love her.”

Benedict’s shoulders fell, like Daphne just saying it out loud was the first time he was admitting it to himself. Like his feelings hadn’t fully sunk in, and now they were hitting him all at once like a freight train. It was a realization for him, and it both excited and terrified him at the same time. His emotion was clear on his face as his mouth fell open, making Daphne’s smile widen.

“Don’t worry, brother,” she reassured him. “It will all work out. I truly believe that. Take the afternoon to yourself, and keep your mind off of it till dinner. You’ll know the right thing to say when it’s time.”

—

That evening, you returned to the Bridgerton’s residence with Penelope.

The family gathered in the sitting room before dinner was ready, but Daphne pulled you away before you could follow. She took you all the way to the backyard, sitting down on the swing. She motioned for you to follow, and you took a seat on the swing next to her.

“I wanted to apologize about earlier,” she said softly. “I saw your face, I know I upset you. That wasn’t my intention, and I hope you can forgive me.”

You shook your head. “Don’t apologize. I needed to hear it. I might not like it, but I needed to hear it.”

“It hurt, Y/N. You don’t have to minimize that to spare my feelings. It’s alright to admit it. Do you…do you want to talk about it? I think there’s something more to it that’s bothering you, love.”

She was right.

Of course she was, she was always right. You sighed, turning to look back through the window into the house. You could see Penelope standing with the rest of the family, laughing at something Colin was telling her. He was smiling down at her like she had hung every star in the sky, just so he could have the chance to watch them sparkle. It was beautiful.

And it was painful.

“I just,” you started, keeping your eyes on Penelope. “I’m happy for her. I’m so happy for her. But I’m feeling a bit left behind.”

Daphne took your hand, leaning closer. “What do you mean?”

“I feel so selfish saying this, but…it’s what I want. She’s getting all that I want. All my life, I’ve wanted what you and your family have. You’re all so loved, and you love each other so deeply. Pen deserves that, I want her to have that. And I have no doubt that by the end of the season, she’ll have it. She’ll marry Colin, and officially be a Bridgerton. Part of the family. But she won’t be mine anymore. And I won’t be hers.”

Daphne frowned, squeezing your hand in hers. She turned you to meet her eyes, giving you a knowing look.

“I have a feeling this has more to do with a certain brother of mine. And I don’t mean Colin.”

You frowned, and she knew she was right.

“This is about Benedict. With Penelope being with Colin, it’s a reminder that you’re not with him. And you want to be with him.”

You couldn’t deny your feelings any longer. “I do. God, I really do. But it’s more than that. I want to be his family. I want to be your family.”

“And you’ve had to silently watch Penelope get what you’ve been waiting for,” Daphne said in realization, her heart breaking when you nodded.

Daphne stood up, pulling you with her. She wrapped you into a tight hug, refusing to relent until you hugged her back. You sighed in frustration, letting her gently rock you back and forth.

“Y/N,” she said softly, pulling away. “You’re already my sister. Regardless of who you end up with, whether it’s my brother or not. Wherever you end up, it doesn’t matter. You will always be my sister. You never have to worry about that. Not ever.”

You smiled softly, squeezing her hands. Just as you opened your mouth to speak, a throat cleared behind you. You quickly turned to see Benedict standing at the door.

“Mother told me to come collect you both. Dinner will be soon. Daph, Simon is asking after you.”

Daphne nodded, turning back to you. “Come along, then.”

“Actually,” Benedict interrupted, his eyes falling on you. “Could I have a moment alone with Y/N, please? If it’s alright with you.”

“Of course,” you said nervously, nodding towards Daphne.

Daphne smiled, nodding back. She patted Benedict on the shoulder as she headed back inside, closing the door behind her.

When she was gone, Benedict gave you a sheepish smile. He motioned for you to sit down, and you took a seat on the swing. He sat on the swing next to you, turning his body so that he was facing you. His knees brushed yours as he settled.

“What is it?” You asked, giving him all your attention.

“I just wanted to make sure you’re alright.”

Your eyes softened on him, and you laid your hand on his arm. “I’m alright, Ben. Better now, since you’ve arrived.”

“Cheesy,” he smiled, but his heart was fluttering in his chest. “You know how to make a man smile, don’t you?”

“I didn’t think I was doing anything in particular,” you shrugged.

Benedict’s smile widened, and he couldn’t help but ponder his feelings for you. From the moment he found you alone on his doorstep, to when you took care of him at his lowest. From the way you treated his family, to the selflessness you never failed to put before your own wishes. From the way you made him feel, to the way he so desperately hoped you felt. He couldn’t stop himself from confessing, hoping his words wouldn’t come back to haunt him.

“I have to tell you something,” he murmured, taking a shuddering breath after he realized what he said, and what he was about to do.

You nodded. “What is it?”

“I think—and in case this is a huge mistake on my part, please forgive me—but, I think…I think I’m in love with you.”

You stiffened, standing up from the swing. “What?”

“I,” he stuttered, standing up as well. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what I was—”

You cut him off, taking his hands in yours. “Say it again.”

Benedict’s eyes widened, and you had caught him at a loss for words. He felt like you had punched him in the gut, sending him to his knees. But he nodded, squeezing your hands in his.

“I love you,” he said again, softer this time as he looked at you through gentle eyes. “I’ve loved you from the moment you got into that carriage with me, and I’ve loved you every moment since. I love you.”

Your shoulders fell, and you could feel the tears welling in your eyes. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, clinging tightly to his hands. You felt like your knees could give out, and the only thing holding you up was him.

“You’re not lying? You’re serious?”

Benedict almost laughed, nodding. “Yes, Y/N. I’m serious. Do you really think I would jest about this?”

You couldn’t help but laugh as well, bringing a hand up to cover your mouth. “All that time. All that time, and you couldn’t tell me? You certainly waited long enough.”

“I’m afraid I don’t understand, darling,” he said, cocking his head in confusion.

You were starting to worry him now, concern written all over his face. It made your heart clench in your chest.

You smiled, wrapping your arms around his neck. You were so happy, you couldn’t help but hold him close, smiling wider when you felt his arms wrap around your waist, despite his confusion. You held him tight, standing up on your toes so he could hear you loud and clear.

“I love you too, Benedict.”

He instantly pulled away, holding you back at arms length. “You what?”

“I love you,” you said again, taking his hands. “And I’ve been waiting ages for the day you’d finally tell me you felt the same. I never thought I’d hear you say the words, but I am so happy that you did.”

It was his turn to ask. “You’re serious? This isn’t a joke?”

You shook your head, and he squeezed your hands. You brought one of your joined hands up to press a kiss to the back of his, smiling up at him.

“I’ve never been more serious about anything in my entire life.”

—

A/N - Hi! I’m so sorry this took so long, it took me a long time to figure out what I wanted to write. Not sure why this one was so difficult, but I finished it! I hope you enjoyed it :)

[demonic0angel]

DPxDC Next Generation Kids (click for clarity)

Continue reading for notes and introductions :)

1) Jove Bryce Wayne (11) - Steph and Cass’ adopted son. He trains under Cass and Bruce, and is widely admired by the other kids for creating his own fighting style with the dancing skills he gets from practicing with his mom (to his delight). Fun fact, he is albino!

2) Marillyn “Mari” Maddy Grayson-Nightingale (10) - Dick and Dan’s daughter. She was an accidental pregnancy, but both of her dads love her very much. Fun fact, she gained her baba’s personality and is rather rebellious and mischievous, which causes Dick to feel sympathetic for Bruce.

3) Elinor “Ellie” Catherine Nightingale (9) - Jason and Jazz’s eldest daughter. She, along with Mari, train under Dick, Jason, and Jazz in order to protect themselves. Fun fact, she looks and acts just like Jason when he was young.

4) Thomas “Tommy” Bruce Drake (5) - Tim, Dani, and Kon’s oldest son. He is an evil genius who uses his cuteness to take over the world. Fun fact, the entire PhantomBat family have given up on convincing him not to, so now they’re just trying to instill morals into him and stall for time (they still love him tho).

5) Marianne “Ann” Talia Nightingale (5) - Jason and Jazz’s youngest daughter. She is Alfie’s twin and is the fun and sunshine to Ellie’s seriousness and Alfie’s gloominess. Fun fact, she got her blonde hair from Sheila Haywood, but she doesn’t know that.

6) Alfonso “Alfie” B Nightingale (5) - Jason and Jazz’s youngest son. He is Ann’s twin and is rather gloomy and antisocial compared to his sisters. Fun fact, he supposedly looks like Bruce when he was young, so he gets away with a lot when dealing with Alfred.

7) Rain Axel Nightingale (4) - Danny and Valerie’s son. He is Misty’s twin and can be rather mischievous, often causing trouble and chaos for the fun of it. Fun fact, he often teams up with Mari to prank everyone in the most ridiculous ways possible.

8) Misty Lilith Nightingale (4) - Danny and Valerie’s daughter. She is Rain’s twin, and is even more shy than Alfie and can start crying when stressed. Fun fact, although she can be anxious easily, her temper is even worse than her mom’s.

9) Ken-el / Kenneth “Kenny” Clark Drake (1) - Tim, Dani, and Kon’s youngest son. Since he is the youngest, he is doted on the most. Fun fact, he has already unlocked most of his halfa abilities due to his Kryptonian heritage.

Notes:

+ Jove’s name relates back to Cassandra’s because they are both names of mythological characters. Jove is another name for Jupiter (AKA Zeus).

+ Both of Mari’s names are actually a weird, mashed up version of Madeline and Mary (and also inspired by Mar’i cough).

+ Jason and Jazz’s daughters are named after Elinor and Marianne from Sense and Sensibilities and their middle names are from Jason’s mother figures in life. I imagine that Jazz had a falling out with Jack and Maddie, so she didn’t really care.

+ Alfie’s name is inspired from Alfred and his middle name is only “B” because Tommy was born first and Tim took the “Bruce” middle name.

+ Alfie and Ann, and Misty and Rain are inspired by Misty and Jackson, the canon kid characters of Sam and Danny. Both pairs of twins have an 8 month difference of age.

+ Why so many twins?? I used the twin idea first for Jazz and Jason, but when I thought of Danny and Valerie, I kept switching between ideas, so I eventually settled on twins for them too. Trust, it was a weird coincidence for Danny and Jazz too when they had twins at nearly the same time.

+ Misty and Rain’s middle names come from Tucker and Sam (Axel Foley and the episode “Life Lessons”). Their first names are inspired by Misty Fenton and I just found another name for Rain to match the theme.

+ Tommy and Kenny technically have different dads, (Tommy is Tim and Dani’s, and Kenny is Kon and Dani’s), but it doesn’t really mean anything, since they don’t pay attention to it.

+ The idea of Tommy, who is like Tim’s clone and absolutely evil, was so funny to me. He’s prob my fav child OC. His entire family know about his manipulative tendencies but he loves them so they let it go. (Damian and Dan have already pledged their allegiance to their future overlord.)

+ The short period of time where Jazz, Dani, and Valerie were pregnant at the same time was hell on earth for everyone.

+ Technically, Bruce only has 7 grandchildren (he cries when he thinks about it a little too hard), but bc they’re so close to Rain and Misty, Bruce thinks of them as his grandchildren too, so he always says he has 9. Danny and Val are like ??? But Rain and Misty totally believe that he’s their grandpa (which he is delighted about).

+ Damian is married to Jon and they have no kids, unless you count the farm they inherited and all of the animals that Damian adopted as his fur babies. However, Damian was young when the kids kept coming, so he became the designated babysitter and then the favorite uncle, which all of the other Batboys despise and are jealous of.

+ Marillyn's age, as well as Misty and Rain's existences, might still be changed by me, just bc at times, it doesn't suit my headcanons or just doesn't make sense in the timeline. So those are susceptible to change.

[in-a-continuous-daydream]

We’ve been talking about the LiB and since they are siblings, which one of them is the eldest, the youngest, whatever. So I present you: our headcanon of the order of the Lords In Black!!

Credits to: @astrolotte , @sweetyeojinnie and @child-of-peace !! We have discussed this quite a lot and it has been so much fun!

So, without further ado, here it is:

1. Wiggly

Okay so, Wiggly is the eldest cause of the obvious, he is the leader of the LiB and seems to have more power over them, this could be because of his eldest son status! We also believe Webby and Wiggly are twins which makes Webby the eldest daughter.

2. Pokey

Pokotho is the second son and he is ABSOLUTELY enraged about it. He’s kind of done with his siblings and is VERY jealous of Wiggly, hence why his whole thing is only wanting to hear his own voice! He is a bit overlooked since Wiggly holds the leadership of the LiB and because of that, he takes the lead anywhere he can, making little hive minds to have control over. Wiggly’s “Don’t frighten them Pokey, you nasty boy!” Makes me believe they have beef lol, and that is exclusively because Pokey is bitter he isn’t the eldest and therefore the leader, so close yet so far.

3. Tinky

Tinky just HAS middle child energy!! He is an attention seeker because he is stuck in the exact middle of the LiB. That’s why he is such a crazy and unhinged guy, he needs attention!

4. Blinky

Blinky isn’t the oldest, he isn’t the youngest and he isn’t in the exact middle, which is why he has conformed with just watching! He is content with the role of viewer and that doesn’t make him any less sadistic. But his middle younger child status has made him more low key.

5. Nibbly

He has youngest sibling energy. And it fits! He has a bit of an overexcited child energy, by constantly commenting stuff on the summoning (Wiggly just ignores him), also, is content with his little sacrifices he gets and hasn’t tried to create a whole apocalypse like the two eldest have!

This is just a headcanon and I love it so much I wanted to share! Feel free to discuss your ideas in the comments or reblogs

[obae-me]

Random Sibling Headcanons

I'm a wee bit sick, which is why I've put my more serious projects on a very short pause. That being said I still feel the need to write something, so why not get some ideas out in the form of little fun ideas? Featuring colored names this time because it's fun for my brain.

These are just some little headcanons I like to think the brothers have done, since I love thinking of their sibling/ at-home relationships with each other.

In the picture of Lucifer's office, he seems to have stairs heading up to a second-story loft of some sort. I've always imagined he has a "Pride" wall somewhere up there filled with memorabilia of his brother's greatest or proudest achievements. There's some photos, art pieces, awards his siblings gave up on keeping, etc. His brothers know about it but hate it, so they all never speak of it.

Mammon and Levi once both badly injured their hands, trying to outdo each other high-fiving. You know where you try to get that perfect smack and hurt the other person's palm? Yeah, like that. They whiffed it on the first try and had to do it again and just couldn't stop after that.

Belphie usually puts small portions of his dirty clothes into his brother's hampers so they can clean his clothes for him without them realizing. It drives them all wild having to sort it out each time, and Belphie thrives off of it.

One of Satan's favorite pranks was to quickly run around the whole house and use up every hot water source he can while Lucifer was taking a shower so his water turns ice cold while the eldest is still in it. It got to the point where Lucifer is actually fine taking cold showers now.

If a bunch of them are in the same room and one of them gets a call from Lucifer, the others will suddenly try to sound like something horrible is going on, more often than not trying to incriminate the person who picked up the phone, blaming them for some false scenario that never happened.

If Belphie gets woken up too many times in the same day, he'll find ways to wake his siblings up in the middle of the night. Once he managed to get into all their phones and set annoyingly loud alarms, another night he cursed the piano in the music room to play until morning. Now the brothers have an unspoken rule not to wake their youngest sibling up more than four times a day.

Asmo likes to barge into his siblings' rooms sometimes unannounced with his D.D.D. while he's live on Devilgram or Deviltube. He loves to catch his brother's doing something stupid, it's hilarious. Sometimes he's not even live, he's just recording so he can keep videos to laugh over later.

They trade chores often, much to Lucifer's frustration, but everyone has some chores they absolutely can't stand. They've even somehow come up with a bartering system of sorts. Laundry = 1 other chore like dusting, but something like Dishes = 2 chores like taking on laundry and vacuuming.

None of them have ever missed one of Beel's games. They always show up and sit in the same spots so Beel never has to look around for them in the crowd. Lucifer brings the bag of supplies and snacks should his siblings need it. Because they always end up complaining about something by the end of the night. Mammon always brings his megaphone that almost always gets in him trouble every time. Levi gives his brothers all glowsticks. Satan always secretly has tricks up his sleeve to use against the opposing team should any of them come close to harming Beel (although that's nearly impossible, but he has them as a precaution). Asmo made everyone the most beautiful signs to hold. And Belphie brings everyone blankets since it can get chilly in the stands. He also brings a big lunchbox of snacks for Beel to eat right after the game even though they always go out to eat right after.

Lucifer, Mammon, and Levi as the three eldest are used to giving their younger siblings things they no longer need. The younger four have plenty of hand-me-downs but more often then not, they don't really mind. Lucifer gives out anything he's not overtly a fan of which can be anything from books to cologne to jewelry. Everyone has a few old things of his. Mammon gives out a bunch of clothes quite frequently. Despite his greed, his room can only hold so much, and so he usually goes through a semi-regular purge. Anything his brothers don't grab he sells. Levi gives out old electronics since he upgrades to the newest stuff as soon as he can. Because of this, Satan owns a pair of cat-ear headphones.

On a trip to the human world once, Asmo bought Belphie one of those electronic toothbrushes that play a song in your head while you brush your teeth so the youngest no longer falls asleep during brushing. Yes, it was a Brittany Spears one. (Does this date me? Maybe. Do they even make those anymore?)

Mammon and Asmo have both sat Beel down and tried to give him a basic course on recognizing flirting to keep their younger brother from being so totally oblivious, but no matter how many times they try, he never notices. However, now if Beel is ever given a random phone number, he knows to take it to either of those two to sort it out for him.

Once, for Belphie's birthday he received the ugliest quilt made from little squares from his brother's t-shirts, pillowcases, robes, etc. They all worked together to sew it up and it's very, very obvious who did what parts. Belphie says he can't stand the awful thing but sleeps with it every night.

[kawaiichibiart]

Fuck it

JL Meets the BatFam scenarios:

I already mentioned the whole "JL thought the Robins were literal fucking birds" thing (kinda what caused this to happen)

Kinda a rewrite of Teen Titans, the League is there when Starfire escapes from her enslavers but they aren't able to talk with her (language barrier combined with a "healthy" dose of fear). She sees them all as her enemy and is ready to fight. The League is wondering how to get her to calm down and are considering knocking her out when this kid in a costume walks over and somehow gets her to calm dow- why did she kiss- WHY CAN SHE SPEAK ENGLISH NOW?! (I can see this as a series of short stories where they'll meet a different BatFam member as it goes on, starting obviously with Dick).

We gotta throw in a reverse!Robin au: Batman shows up late to a meeting, which upon arrival, he only says he was getting his son out of prison. And, well, okay. First off, why was his son in prison? And two, WHY WAS HIS SON IN PRISON?! The Batman. Has a son. Who was in prison. And he had to bail him out. The meeting diverges from it's original content because they all want to know what his son did. What did he do that got him arrested? The zeta tubes come to life and a stoic looking man (JL, thinking: who the hell is THAT?!) walks over with a little boy, whom he drops on Batman's lap. He says nothing and leaves. And Batman just answers the question with: He was born. It's short and straight to the point. He'll later tell the league the little boy was his son that he had to get out of prison. And that lead to the story of how he and his other children (THERE ARE MORE?!) saw the little boy lose his family and home all in one night. That stoic boy? His eldest and only biological son. He has two more sons, aside from his eldest and youngest, and a daughter, making for five kids in total. Six if he counted Batgirl/Spoiler (Steph).

The League gets infiltrated by Batman's birds. He has no idea when they snuck into the Watch Tower, but he's not about to tell the rest of the League. He can use this as a training exercise. See who catches on. If they catch on.

(fem!Dick Grayson) The League has heard about Bruce Wayne and his many (5) children. They've seen them and have rescued them many times. There's the eldest, Richelle "it's Dick not Dixie, Elle or Ellie" Grayson, the second oldest, Cassandra "I could murder you if I wanted to" Cain, the middle child, Jason "fuck you I literally died" Todd, the second youngest, Timothy "sleep is for the weak and the dead" Drake, and the youngest, Damian "if I wasn't being held back I would murder you" Wayne. No they're not exaggerating with the names. What they don't know is that all these kids have worked with them, until one of them calls Bruce "dad" (post Batman identity reveal).

Batman, that is a child. Why are you letting a child fight crime?! Come here sweetie, we'll take you somewhe- HE BIT ME?! (aka JL meets Dick Grayson during his early Robin days, when he's absolutely a feral menace and will actually bite you. They assume once a new Robin shows up, things will be different. It isn't.)

Leaguer, waving to Batman as they pass him: Batman. Batman. Batma- Leaguer, stops and stares at three Batmans: Wait- (JL meets the Batfam by them all showing up to the Watchtower dressed as Batman, Bruce pretends they're not there, but he was the one who okayed the idea. He won't admit it out loud, but honestly it is kinda funny.)

[nteyamsully]

YOUNGEST SULLY

summary the youngest daughter and sibling is just two years younger than tuk and she is so adorable. just how the sully family treats her.

pairing sully! reader x platonic! sully family

note reader uses she/her pronouns

neteyam was just ten years old when you were born

on a random day like any other day, you started crying in the middle of the night.

surprisingly, he was the only one who woke up from your ear splitting cries and he had to do something before you woke up everyone in the forest

call it brotherly instincts cause he handled it perfectly well

neteyam sturred in his position, his ears twitching at the familiar cries. he pushed himself to sit up as he rubbed his eyes gently. it was way too early compared to his normal waking time, but he couldn't bring himself to be annoyed at you because you're just a baby. and he learned from his dad that each and one of his siblings were like that too when lo'ak complained about how noisy you were.

he rushed up quickly and knelt down in front of you. his mother was completely asleep right next to you. he pondered why, in contrast to other times, she had been unable to wake up to the sound of your cries. nonetheless, he eventually concluded that she was exhausted from her restless nights. his father, too, has been occupied with his olo'eyktan responsibilities and raising five children.

it was his turn now as the eldest sibling to take care of you, he thinks.

carefully, neteyam embraced you in his arms. he had only ever carried you under his mother's watch once, but he recalled every piece of advice she had given him. make sure you support her head and rock her gently.

your sobbing subsided when you saw your brother and were replaced by whimpers and sniffles only. to avoid disturbing his parents, he took a seat on the corner of his home.

"are you okay now?" he asked softly. neteyam observed your eyes that were still swelled with tears, your bottom lip pushed into a pout. he giggled at the sight. "i guess you are since you're not crying anymore."

your chubby small hand reached for his nose and he scrunched them under your touch. immediately, you retracted your hand with a giggle thinking that it's like a loreyu.

your father, jake, had showed you one as he brought you around the forest. and that plant is your favorite.

neteyam smiled at the reaction. He doesn't mind at all being woken up to the sound of his baby sisters' cries if it meant he would have moments like this with her.

imagine the horror neytiri felt when she couldn't feel your warmth beside her

her eyes surveyed the area until it stopped on her eldest son, laid on the corner with you on top of his chest. you were babbling soft noises with a smile on your face as you slept.

neytiri cupped her mouth with her hand, taking in the cuteness of the moment

she wished she had whatever the humans used to capture memories for remembrance

when kiri was eleven, jake assigned her to help their grandmother look after you in her hut

she obliged without a thought because she loved watching you

unlike her annoying brothers, you don't spout annoying nonsense

being with your oldest sister has always been your favourite thing. even you could feel the serenity she radiated. when neteyam was unable to be found since his father is training him, lo'ak and tuk were having fun. 

sitting between kiri's knees, your hands grasped her wrists and pushed her hands to clap against each other. you were cooing then babbling from time to time.

“papa gave you the toruk makto doll, but you’d rather play with my hands?” she asked.

her voice made you stare up with round eyes, as well as your ears perked up. as you let yourself slump forward, a playful look spread over your features.

kiri chuckled, familiar with your act.

after your grandma began teaching kiri how to be a healer, the two of you often roleplay in which you are the patient and kiri is the healer.

as you are with her during the majority of time when the warriors enter the hut to receive treatment, mo'at believes that you mimicked their behaviour. your observant eyes watching each action.

"oh no! we have a hunter who is hurt!" kiri faked a gasped and turned your body around.

you forced your eyes closed. giggles leaving your lips now and then.

"what could the cause be?" her hands touching your chubby stomach before trailing them up to your ears. "no, it's not the ears." then her fingers lightly tickled your neck which made you laugh. "nope, neck is fine. it must be… here!"

kiri tickled each of your sides causing you to thrash between her legs. a shrieking laugh could be heard inside the hut.

mo'at smiled at the sight of her grandchildren. kiri bending over to connect both of your noses, still giggling. moments like this, she begs eywa that they stay as children forever.

lo'ak.

he's not really the right person to look after you so jake doesn't leave you alone with him

why?

it's not because he's reckless. it's because you had no fear at all and lo'ak encourages it

you were just two when you tried jumping over a small fire. the fire wasn't big, so why should he stop you?

he was hanging from a branch with his legs over it. and you instantly made grabby hands, wanting to try it

jake feared that he would have to deal with another troublemaker when you grow up

that's why neteyam is always around when you're with lo'ak

lo'ak was eleven when he was first entrusted to watch you alone.

you were two.

just two.

and neteyam is already scolding lo'ak about how he wasn't holding you in the river. he felt like his soul left him when he saw you in front of lo'ak in the river, and nothing was holding you to him. you were literally sinking.

"bro, it's not like that. i will never hurt y/n like that!" yelled lo'ak. he felt offended that his brother would ever think that.

neteyam rolled his eyes. he was holding you by the hip, and you had a scowl on your face. "no baby would want to be in the lake sinking. skxawng."

lo'ak groaned. "she was not sinking! she tried to touch the ground with her feet! she kept crying when i wouldn't let her go!"

before neteyam could argue, you spoke, "i want lo'ak." you reached your arms out to him, indicating that you wanted to be held by him.

"no. we're going to mom and dad," neteyam firmly said.

lo'ak huffed as he rolled his eyes. he knew that his parents would scold him if they found out, especially jake. 

you started sobbing as neteyam began to leave. lo'ak is the only person who ever allows you to do anything, hence you wanted to stay in the water with him for a little while longer. neteyam attempted to calm you, but it was ineffective. despite being in your father's arms, your sobbing continued to be loud enough to be heard.

neytiri was absolutely fuming when she found out

jake was bouncing you in his arms because your cries hadn't stopped

lo'ak was standing in front of them, head down

it was when you said your brothers name, reaching out to him, your mother stopped scolding him

lo'ak cupped the back of your neck as you rested your head on his shoulder. 

maybe he was wrong for letting you do that, but he would never intentionally harm you. your brother adores you and he hoped that his parents see that

because tuk is closest to your age, she's your partner in crime

whatever she does, you follow

wherever she goes, you're right behind her

the two of you had no sense of what's wrong or right so you two didn't care

tuk was five and you were three. neytiri wasn't home because it was her hunt this time with her party. neteyam, lo'ak, and kiri were out to hangout with other kids their age. 

so, it was just jake and his little girls.

jake enjoyed playing with his little princesses, but he was tired from his olo'eyktan duties. he tried to fight his drowsiness, blinking his eyes open. but with tuk laying on his stomach and humming a random melody, it was impossible.

"hm?" you tilted your head when you see a basket that had shells with paint inside them. blue, yellow, white. your favourite colours! 

carefully, tuk moved from her father to you. her eyes shined at the shells and grabbed the blue paint.  "the one who gets the most paint on their body loses!"

tuk dipped her hand in the shell and touched your chest, leaving a four finger mark. you whined and grabbed the yellow shell. doing the same thing she did to you.

from then on, it became paint wars.

kiri, neteyam, and lo'ak were shocked to see the hammock dirty with paint. even more shocked to see you and tuk covered with paint head to toe.

neteyam was quick to wake his dad because if his mom sees this, they were all in trouble

jake cursed when he was greeted by his paint covered daughters. he internally cursed himself again when you and tuk said shit because of him

there wasn't enough time to do anything because your mother was already home

jake received a great scolding from her

you are loved dearly by your family and they would do anything for you <3

it's only cut to the sully siblings because i felt like it's getting too long. if this gets much attention, i might make one for jake and neytiri !

[n30nwrites]

Rewind (Bridgerton)

Pronouns: He/Him

Relationships: Anthony Bridgerton x Kate Sharma, Penelope Featherington x Colin Bridgerton, Benedict Bridgerton x Reader, Anthony Bridgerton x Reader, Kate Sharma x Reader, Penelope Featherington x Reader, Colin Bridgerton x Reader

Soulmate AU, Polygamy, Reader is autistic

Warnings; Mentions of homophobia? Mentions of absent parents, Christianity but the Reader doesn't believe in God, Talks of Unwanted touching, Talks about canonical child death and sickness

This is just a small excerpt because no one else will fulfill what I need because I am very much in love with the people surrounding Bridgerton. IDK if I'll continue it.

You weren't the eldest son, nor were you the youngest. A Classic middle child, having your older brothers torture you and your younger ones followed in their footsteps soon enough. But all of your siblings wanted one thing.

Your parent's attention.

Your father, The King George, was a mad men, at least he was considered one. Your mother was too busy ruling England and keeping everything picture perfect to really care about you guys.

Well you didn't really count yourself as one of your siblings.

Simply because you weren't meant to be here.

When you were first taken to this universe, you had been a babe, just freshly born. It was strange, to have full consciousness when being a young'en. The minute you could, you were walking and talking, far earlier than any other babe, but you had too.

By the time you were five, you had been considered a spectacle. The prodigal son, they claimed. You had your wits, you were respectable, truly the perfect gentleman.

You played your cards right, up until you couldn't.

Growing older meant more siblings, and you took care of them the best you could. But you hated these new rules. You couldn't be alone with a woman who wasn't a relative, your brothers were rude and loved it, and your sisters were innocent. Naive really, which you felt was a strange thing. To know about Sex but they couldn't. You tried to teach your sisters as well, education was the future.

But it was all useless.

Eventually you became a recluse. You stuck to yourself, in your room with instruments. Your English guitar, harp-lute, piano, and even the improper ones like a violin, cello and flute. You had to make the best of a situation, and that was what you did.

Even well into your adulthood, your brothers were still your biggest bullies. They thought you were a prude for never having Sex, which frankly if women couldn't without being criticized and shamed, then you shouldn't either. They said you were secretly a woman, or queer.

Well you could attest you weren't a woman, and well you kind of were queer. Bisexual, but they wouldn't know that word.

But you were brought into this universe for some odd reason. You weren't sure why, you didn't really get into Bridgerton like everyone else. Not that you were different from others, you just couldn't commit to watching a tv series, but you had seen the edits.

It just made no sense for you to be the one. It wasn't until the marks appeared that you understood.

Soulmates. That was a new adaption. Apparently they were rare, rare enough that out of all your siblings, you were the only one to have one. Your mother said it was a gift from God, though you thank she only said that because the bishop was there when you got them.

Them as in multiple, that put the bishop out of his head. He said it was blasphemous, you were too entranced with them to care. A matching soulmark would tie you to these people. 5 people.

That was a lot of people to keep happy. Especially when this century wasn't very happy with queer couples and polyamory. After that, your mother had insisted you hide them, and you weren't willing to risk a Romanov situation because people were too religious.

Your mother didn't like that you weren't religious, but she didn't bring it up again after one intense arguement that caused you to leave for a few weeks.

But you agreed with her, you wouldn't tell others. You were here to find a way out, you already had some ideas, one being a specific spot in the woods where you found something from the future.

A portable Radio/Cassette player. Wasn't that far in the future where you were, but it would work. You had headphones with it, and you finally felt some sort of sanity. Music in this era wasn't nearly as relaxing as yours was.

Keeping to yourself was easy after that. Every servant was ordered to knock on your door loudly by you, and to stop any sibling that would come your way just in case they caught you. Your servants were almost your friends, you knew they were reqired to be there, to be kind to you, but it was the closest you had to an actual relationship.

You stayed away from your mother on days like this. She's irritated, you don't know why, you don't care to ask. Your siblings are stomping around the palace but you don't move from your room, you instead walk around your room, shirtless, listening to your music. Your favorite servant, Zelena, is behind you, just watching you. She's always been touchy with you, your hair, your chest, you assumed it was just the way she communicated. And while you were uncomfortable with it, your mother had told you that you couldn't afford to be rude to people.

Zelena stayed next to you while you played the English Guitar. You knew enough about it in your old life, having made adjustments to the strings to be able to play older songs. The ones you could remember (Which you wrote down because eventually, you wouldn't.)

You ignore the knock at the door, simply nodding your head to Helena, who opens the door gently.

A gentleman is at the door, he's staring at you the minute he walks in. Like he's almost amazed at you, you didn't understand.

You never did.

He seems to look at you yet avoids eye contact. You set the instrument down to the side, gently. "Can I help you sir?"

He says your name, and you nod your head. "Can we be alone?" He asks. Your mother said it was improper to be with women alone, not men. So you nod your head and your maids walk out of the room. You figured this man was a duke or something, he had to be important considering he was in the castle. Perhaps a suitor for one of your sisters.

"My name is Benedict Bridgerton."

"Bridgerton? I've heard stories about your family before from my mother. She enjoys the drama that surrounds your family." You tell him, "Last I heard the Viscount found a wife."

"My brother, Anthony." He confirms.

"What brings you to my room?" You question. "Surely it's not to tell me about your family?"

"I just had to meet you."

"You really didn't." You frown slightly, to be fair, you knew a bit about Benedict. You weren't the biggest fan of his story, kidnapping a bride from her wedding day and tying her to a pole. It was strange, but you couldn't change the writers opinion. At least you think that was his story, TikTok could only tell you so much and it's not like you read the books.

You could only hope that it was different in the tv series, considering that's where you were right now. The actor himself you knew very little about as well, but you didn't really care for actors. You stood from the couch in your room, "Why is the artist here?"

"You know of my work?"

"I know a lot of things Sir." You take a few steps away from the couch. "Can you get to the point?"

He seems unsure now, fiddling with his fingers. "You're my soulmate" He tells you, and you look down at one of your marks.

"Which mark are you?" You question, and he looks hopeful. He pulls up his sleeve, the little feather on your wrist, in matching spots. You looked at your own and slightly traced it.

"Benedict!" The voice is angry and your door opens. You glare at the person who opened it. He didn't knock. It's Anthoyn Bridgerton, looking angry. "Benedict what are-"

"Next time Viscount I would ask that you knock instead of rudely interrupting." You cut him off, glaring at him. He seems to have brought a group of people behind him. Benedict stands up and walks right next to you. You put your hands behind your back, picking at your wrist. "It seems you've brought company." You tell Benedict.

"I was about to explain." He tells you, but you look at Anthony, more specifically behind him. You can see your mother through the crowd.

"If we must speak, we will not do it in my room." You grab Benedict's wrist, still refusing skin-to-skin, and pull him with you. Your glare causes the eldest Bridgerton to move to the side, he walks next to his wife.

Outside your room is a lot of people, it's almost overwhelming. There's the Featheringtons, really you only recognized Penelope but you knew by the yellow dress that they had to be her relatives. You could guess they were her sisters and the eldest-looking was her mother. You then saw your own mother, with what seemed like all of your siblings behind her. You rolled your eyes, your eldest brother seemed to glare at you. He hated you though, and you didn't particulary care. You just hated the drama that came with them. Then the Bridgertons. All of them, it seems. The eldest Bridgerton son is there with his wife, Kate. As is their mother, then Benedict who was next to you, Colin who seemed to glance between you and Penelope, Daphne with her husband, Simon. Eloise, Francesca (you truly hoped she got a better story in this show than the books), Gregory and Hyacinth.

"Brimsley, a pleasure to see you again." You avoid everyone to speak to your mother's right-hand man.

"Perhaps if you came out of your room more sir."

"Ah but if I did I might just die." You smile slightly, "Especially if I see William's face." Your brother takes a step towards you but quickly faltors at your mother's expression. "What have I done to warrant a family meeting without me."

"Being born really." George remarked and you smiled at him, cruelly.

"Brother you make me wish I wasn't and that instead I was with Charlotte, Amelia, Alfred and Octavius." What you said was cruel. Amelia died of tuberculosis, Alfred and Octavius died of smallpox, and the young Princess Charlotte who you weren't really sure how you died, you were barely there during the funeral. George (The fourth?) seemed to quiet down, looking sad. You were being rude, you didn't care. They back you into a corner and you attack, like always. "Edward! If you want to strike me you might as well try, but we both know you lack in that department, and many others."

"Quiet." Your mother tells you, and you wish you could care but you didn't. "This doesn't pertain you." She says your name gently, as if convincing you to calm down.

"Obviously it does if it has my soulmate running towards me." You jest towards Benedict. "What? Now that my attraction to men is out we must kill them all? It's not like it's been a secret."

"It is not godly." One of your brothers say.

"God is not Godly." You dennounce him, "You follow a book that has been rewritten multiple times, through many different languages. I do not believe in your God, you know that."

"Hush." Your mother calls your name and you just stare at her. "This was for the better of the Kingdom."

"Why does the Kingdom matter more than I?" You question, "Frankly, none of this does. But why are the Bridgertons and the Featherington's here?"

"You know who we are?" One of the other Featherington sisters say, she seems hot, considering the red to her face.

"I know of Penelope." You looked to her and nodded. "Who wouldn't? She's absolutely beautiful." You notice the looks that you recieve after you say your words. "Did I do something wrong?"

"No, I just think its best-"

"She wants to discourage us from going after you." Benedict says as he grabs your wrist causing you to look at him.

"Us?"

[thefearedashantis]

Garlic Toast and Bloody Noses

Pairing: Sirius Black x SAHM! Reader (stay at home mom)

Summary: Your eldest daughter got in trouble at school and Sirius is livid.

Word count: 3.1K

Warning: None (if you think it needs one lmk)

Emmerson is cranky, per usual. You weren’t sure how long a two-year-old could cry before tiring themselves out, but he was surely going for the record.

Nothing you did soothed him. Rocking, singing, a stroll around the block. He didn’t want to eat. He didn’t want to play. He didn’t want to sleep. The reasoning for his upset was simple enough. One you’d figured out shortly after he was born.

He hated you. Detested. Loathed. Abhorred. As much as the very idea broke your heart.

From the moment he took his first breathe he despised your very presence. Would absolutely scream his little head off until Sirius, or anyone really, rescued him from your grasp. Only then from the comfort of his fathers’ arms would he calm, then turn back to stare at you accusingly with watery eyes.

Well, his father wasn’t home at the moment, and you stare at the clock praying for the minutes to go by quicker. School and extracurricular activities having ended, Sirius and your other two children should be walking through the front door any second.

Your husband would enter your home silently, tuckered out from a long day. He’d take off his shoes and hang up his coat. Round the couch and lean down to peck you gently at the corner of your lips before prying your son from your arms. Wrestling his fat hands loose of your hair which he never failed to get an ironclad grip on. Then you’d stow away in the bathroom for a few quiet minutes after saying hello to your girls. Just to give yourself a little pep talk and allow the headache pulsing behind your eyes to recede. Give yourself some much-needed reassurance that this behaviour couldn’t last forever. At some point he’d warm up to you.

He had to, right?

You’re wretched from your thoughts at the slam of the front door. Followed by a gust of air whisking by you where you were slumped in the living room, thunderous footsteps banging up the stairs. Another door slams in the distance.

From the brief glimpse at the back of a muddy soccer uniform you know it must be Amelia, and that fact has you up on your feet in a panic. Because just as your youngest scorned your existence your eldest adored you. If she wasn’t at school she was virtually glued to your hip. She would never come home without stopping to throw herself at you like you’d been apart for an eternity.

Something was wrong.

You’ve barely placed Emmy into his playpen, a rigorous tussle, and taken a step into the hall when a small body crashes into your middle. Your kindergartner. Backpack, coat and shoes still on.

“Mom!”

“Claire!” you try to match her enthusiasm.

“I’m hungry” she mumbles against your stomach, arms squeezing you tight.

“I made your favourite snack. It’s on the counter for you.”

Sirius appears in the archway just as Claire scurries away. He’s in a flurry, making long strides in the direction of the stairs without so much as acknowledging you. “You get back down here right now young lady!” His voice all but shakes the house, sending your heart scuttling into your throat. Sirius never raises his voice, especially not when angry. Sirius was hardly ever angry to begin with.

Your hand shoots out to grab at him before he can get too far, pulling him to a harsh stop. “Whoa, whoa whoa! What’s going on?”

“Lia got in a fight at school!” Claire calls from the kitchen.

And he’s teetering on you, trying to get you to let him go.

“What? Why didn’t you call me? What’s happened, is she alright?”

“I’d say she’s doing better than Isaac!” Now he’s moving, circling to the other end of the room, dragging you along with him. “I mean parents trust me to look after and teach their children! How does it seem when I can’t even discipline my own? She’s old enough to know not to hit others!”

Sirius was the music teacher at the local elementary school. The one both of your daughters attended. That being the case he usually handled anything pertaining to the girls while on the premises.  Didn’t mean you were out of the loop however. If one got so much as a scratch on the playground you were sent a text about it. For the entire day to have elapsed without him informing you on what had happened was odd.

“Sirius” you release his arm in favour of his face, rubbing at the space between his nape and ear in a manner you knew he found soothing “Honey, I’m sure there’s a reasonable explanation.”

But your attempts to pacify him prove worthless when his roaming eyes finally snap to yours with a steely coldness that has a chill running up your spine. You see none of the sticky affection you’re accustomed to within them. Nothing but distaste. There was no questioning Emmy’ parentage with that gaze.

“I told you the haircut wasn’t a good idea.”

Haircut? Was he still upset about that all these weeks later?

“What’s her hair have to do with anything?”

His eyes roll so hard you fear they’ll be lost in the back of his head. He shakes out of your hold. “Because you undermine me with every little thing when it comes to her! I try to put my foot down and you immediately slag it off!”

“It’s her hair Sirius. She wanted it short and you couldn’t give a good enough reason why she shouldn’t be allowed to have it that way.”

Emmy has finally gone quiet in his play pen. Standing and peeking over the edges at the two of you, gaze flitting back and forth like a ping pong ball whenever someone speaks. Probably wondering why his beloved father hasn’t come to pick him up yet.

“Because she looks like a boy!” Sirius throws his hands up, looking to the sky for some sort of backup he would not be receiving. “She already dresses like a boy, you’ve let her chop all her hair off and now she’s running around getting into trouble like some little delinquent!” With every word his face gets more and more red, voice trembling with raging effort.

You can’t seem to find anything to say for a long moment, just watching him breathe in and out in desperate rags. A minute passes, then two. When he manages to catch his breath and stumble over to the couch you follow closely behind. Leaning down near his ear so you won’t have to speak above a whisper.

“First of all Black, I don’t know who you’re speaking to in that tone but I suggest you check it, right now. Her hair and the way she dresses are nobody’s business but her own and they don’t make her a boy.” The fact those words could even leave his mouth after the childhood he had baffled you “And second I think you should stop and reevaluate the way you talk about your daughter, especially while she’s right upstairs to hear you.”

He turns his head. You’re so far into his space that your noses almost brush but you don’t back away. You would always stand firm when it came to your children. The one’s you two created and set out to raise together in the loving and supporting environment neither of you had gotten growing up.

 “Are you guys arguing?”

You straighten up at the squeak of Claire’s question. She stands behind the couch with a slight frown on her round face. Her snack of garlic toast held between two hands.

“No darling of course not,” a smile splits your expression for good measure “why don’t you come with me to check on Lia while Daddy says hello to Emmy hm?”

Claire is not convinced “sounded like arguing.”

You’re at the base of the stairs, swatting the girl up them, when Sirius calls back in a very small manner “I’m sorry.”

He appears more like himself now, the love of your life. Thin, long limbed, warm eyes with a hint of melancholy. Deflated of his anger and replenished with his token skittish composure.

“When I come back there will be no more yelling.”

He nods, and you’re off to discover the root of this grand affair.

Claire stands outside of Lia’ closed door when you arrive. Shifting from foot to foot as if nervous to go in. You reach over her and rap on the sticker covered wood with a firm knuckle. There’s no answer but you turn the knob and enter anyway.

The room is dark, lights off and curtains drawn. The only illumination comes from the device set up on the bedside table that projects stars and planets onto the ceiling. A balled-up form rests in the very corner of the bed, back to you, arms slung over the head.

“Is she crying?” Claire whispers. Well, her version of whispering. Which was just her regular speaking volume but slower.

“No.” Lia grinds out. She twists herself around so you can see her face. She wasn’t crying but she surely had been if the red of her eyes were evidence enough.

You make your way over to the bed, posting yourself up against the headboard. Claire opts to sit at the bottom, gazing up at the light show.

“Want to tell me what happened at school today?”

“Can I sit in your lap?”

Despite the circumstances a warm fuzzy feeling seeps throughout your chest, always happy to indulge in some physical affection. Lia is still quite small for her age. She crawls over your legs and slots her body against yours, burrowing as close as she can manage, sticking her nose into the material of your shirt and inhaling deeply. Her dark hair tickles your face. Not long enough for a scrunchy and too short for much other styling. It sticks up in amusing ends from sweat.

Claire must feel left out because she wraps a crummy hand around your socked foot.

“Daddy’s disappointed in me,” her voice is hoarse and wobbly. She keeps her eyes shut tight while speaking, nose scrunched.

“He’s not, he’s just…unsettled, stressed maybe.”

“Is there a difference?”

To an eight-year-old there might not be.

“Daddy was yelling” comes a whisper snaking up from the end of the bed.

“Be quiet Claire!” Lia tries to shoo the younger girl out of her room but she refuses to go.

“Loudly.” She continues “His face was all red.”

You fight a giggle “Eat your bread Claire bear.”

“Furious” she finishes around the last mouthful of her treat. She’s always been your chatty baby, forever excited for new vocabulary words.

You return your full attention to Amelia “Tell mom what happened bug.”

She doesn’t start immediately, instead relishing in the feeling of your fingers combing through her damp hair for a while. When she does start speaking the story is much worse than you thought it would be.

The boys in class have been bothering her for the last few months.

One in particular who sits directly behind her by the name of Isaac. He is the reason, she confesses, for originally wanting to cut her hair short despite loving the lack of inches now. It was in hopes of deterring him from yanking it by handfuls.

They apparently dislike her always trying to hang around with them and not the girls. Girls belonged with girls and boys belonged with boys as it went. Not allowed to mix. Cooties too easily spread. 

They took to stuffing things down the back of her shirt. Swiping her glasses off her face. Shoving her in the lunch line. Ripping the pages out of her notebooks. Pouring glue in her chair. Scratching mean names into her desk. Cornering her during recess while the teachers were distracted and pulling her pants down in front of everyone. Because if she wouldn’t play with the girls then she must be a boy but if she was a boy then they'd need proof. 

She tried to tell her homeroom teacher when it first started but the woman didn’t believe her because Isaac is a top student and his family name stood proud on the sign outside of the new gym complex. She must have done something to him to earn such treatment.

“Did you go to your father?”

Lia shakes her head “I started to once but he just told me to try sticking with the girls more.”

“What about me? I thought we didn’t keep secrets between us.”

“You always tell me to be brave and stick up for myself if someone bothers me. I was trying to build up the courage but—” she dissolves into a low whine, struggling to finish around her tears. “I don’t think Daddy likes me.”

Claires eyebrows furrow. Up until then you didn’t think the girl had even been listening “Why would you say that!” she shouts, looking seconds away from bursting into tears herself.

You’re quick to intervene “She doesn’t mean it. Your big sister is just really sad right now.”

“No, I mean it!” Lia insists, sitting up to rub at her eyes “He doesn’t like me! He complains about everything I do!” her head bobbles from side to side as she lists “Sit more lady like. Why don’t you wear any of the dresses grandma bought you. Why don’t you do ballet instead of soccer. Why don’t you grow your hair out like the other girls. Why don’t you have any girl friends”

You take her hands into yours, they’re cold. You feel unprepared to deal with her emotions, she’s so young to even be ruminating over such things. All you want to do is ease her heartache, as her mother. An adult in her life who should have all the answers, but has no clue where to start. What would be saying too much and what would be too little. “Oh, my love, your father had a really hard time growing up with his own dad. He was really strict with him. That’s no excuse for him to take it out on you, but I know he loves you very much”

She deflates back onto your chest “Yeah, but he doesn’t like me.”

She finishes the story. 

It was recess. She was climbing up onto the monkey bars and about to go across when Isaac caught her pant leg and tried to yank them down. On instinct she went to kick him off and accidentally struck him in the face.

“I didn’t mean to break his nose. Swear.”

Never in a million years would you think her capable of intentionally hurting some. You placate her with a kiss on the forehead anyway “how about you and mom go out for a treat? Huh? Just the two of us?”

She sniffles in contemplation “Ice cream?”

“Anything you want.”

“Can I come?” Claire crawls her way up to the headboard.

“I’ll bring you back some, but Lia’s had a very bad day and that means what?”

“She needs mommy time?”

“Exactly.”

You ease said girl out of your lap gently, laying her out on the pillows, and promising to be back in five minutes. Then you’d go for her treat.

On your way out of the room you notice Claire scooting closer. She sticks her pointer finger right in her sisters’ face. “Your eyes are puffy.”

The aggravated “Claire!” follows you down the stairs.

In the living room Sirius and Emmy sit in comfortable silence, your husband bouncing the now cheerful baby on his knee. His neck nearly snaps at your approach. Eyes already glassy with regret.

“Is she terribly upset?”

“Heartbroken more like” you say, not bothering to sugarcoat it for him “she thinks you don’t like her.”

He lowers his head in shameful anguish when you sit beside him. “I just, she’s so much like me when I was young.” No friends his own gender. Only interested in things typically deemed non-conforming “the things I went through in school, at home, it pains me to imagine that happening to her.”

How much had she told him of the bullying you wonder and why had he kept it from you. You'd been there for so much of his own struggle that it honestly hurts your feelings that he’d allowed himself to spiral so much without seeking you out. The number of times he showed up on your doorstep in the wee hours of the morning. The cuts and bruises you’d tended, caused over simplicities like nail polish, the length of his hair, the music he listened to. The way he dressed, acted, spoke. 

 “Ok, but you can’t just force her to change who she is in the name of protecting her. Just because she isn’t the girliest girl out there doesn’t give anyone the right to bully her, not even you. All you’re doing is teaching her that being herself is not ok. Then to go and blow up on her like that. It’s confusing Sirius. You know better.”

You don't say it, wouldn’t ever go that low, but you know he’s thinking it. He’s acting like his father.

Sirius sits with your words.

“Why did she hit him then?”

“She didn’t really. He tried to pull her pants down on the playset so she kicked out. It was an accident.”

“Pull her pants down?”

A fresh wave of anger rolls over his shoulders. You snatch Emmy from his grasp before planting a kiss onto his temple.

“No more of that. Go upstairs and talk to her before we leave.”

You’d get on him later for keeping secrets from you.

Sirius returns the kiss, lingering for a few seconds too long, pressing his nose into the fat of your cheek. He smells like peppermint.

“I love you.” Her murmurs. And you’re suddenly transported back to your childhood bedroom. The sun just creeping over the horizon and spilling through your window right onto his sleeping face. The lips so like Claires’, ears and brows so like Emersons’, freckles like Amelias’.  Hovering your finger over the bridge of his nose, skimming along his throat. Blowing gently at his thick lashes. Poking at the sliver of skin peeking out at his tummy where his shirt had risen up. When you’d fall asleep with him on the floor and always wake up to his breath on the back of your neck, legs tangled in bed with you. The fit of giggles sneaking him out the house before your parents woke up. 

“Love you too. Now go!”

You’re once again left with Emmy in the exact same place you’d started. He watches Sirius take the stairs two at a time before turning back to you, frown already forming. 

“And you my little man, i love you so much.”

[drvirgus]

Mute!

Non-Idol! Hanni X Mute! Reader

Description: Life as a mute girl in university: How does Y/n navigate her life, especially when she has to work on a project with her crush, one of the popular kids on campus? Can Y/n find a way to express her feelings?

Warnings: Trauma; strong language; kys/kms jokes; insults; bad family 😔 (kind of abuse?)

Chapter: Helpless (2)

Masterlist

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Y/n didn’t cry. Her eyes were simply fixed on her grandma lying in the coffin. Y/n looked at each guest, especially her family. Every single one of them was crying and sobbing. Her brother had his arm over his eyes while his girlfriend, offering him emotional support, gently stroked his back.

Her sister, also several years older, cried into their father’s shoulder, who was trying hard not to show weakness. However, his eyes were red and a few silent tears rolled down his cheeks. Her mother, of course, cried the loudest. A tissue in her hand as she hugged herself and continuously rubbed her own arms.

Every single one of them cried.

And yet they didn’t even come to their grandma’s birthday!

Y/n stood in the middle of her family but never felt this alone. No one cared about her...

The funeral was over, and everyone was slowly heading home. As always, Y/n took off her shoes and neatly placed them to the side. After all, her mother always scolded her if Y/n was even a bit messy.

"I need a drink," she heard the older man she called father say. With a tense jaw, he went into the kitchen and sat at the head of the dining table without moving a muscle. A certain pressure filled the room. First, the oldest sat at the table, followed by the sister.

They all stared at Y/n expectantly. "How can you be so cold? Your fucking grandma just died," her older sister’s shrill voice accused. She glared hatefully at the eight-year-old girl before snorting and looking away.

A pressure built in the youngest's chest.

Slowly and deliberately, Y/n sat down at the table as well. The mother of the family handed everyone a glass and placed two bottles of wine on the table. The man of the house, however, went for his beloved whiskey, which he wasn’t supposed to drink because he wouldn't stay sober otherwise. He had managed to stay sober for three years...

"Daddy," the youngest said softly. Of course, she was too young to fully understand why he shouldn’t drink it. But she knew he wasn’t supposed to, and that was enough for her.

James, the oldest sibling, raised his glass and took a sip. "So what do we do now? Who gets her inheritance?" he asked. Erika, the eldest daughter, looked at her brother and snorted again. "Is that the first thing you think of? You’re a fucking asshole, James," she spat at the older sibling.

A loud bang on the table interrupted the tension between the two siblings. Silently, they looked at Do-Yun, the man of the house. Angry and with narrowed eyes, he first looked at James and then at Erika. His eyes softened a bit when he looked at his youngest.

"Why... didn’t any of you go to her birthday?"

"I want her gold," Erika said.

Emptiness and ignorance.

That was the only thing the youngest got from her family. She was always ignored, never allowed to finish speaking, or no one ever tried to listen to her.

 You’re too young to join the conversation.

The pressure intensified. Y/n felt as if the wall that was already between her and her family only grew bigger and more solid.

"Erika will get the gold, the furniture, and everything that belongs to the house. James will inherit the property," she heard Do-Yun say while her mother, Hee-Jin, sat next to him, continuously pouring him drinks and nodding occasionally.

"I want to be with Granny," the youngest said.

"Fine by me. Does that mean I can do whatever I want? Even tear down the house?" James asked as he sipped his own glass of whiskey.

The only thing Y/n noticed was the pitying look from her future sister-in-law before she stood up and started to leave for her room.

"Where are you going?" Do-Yun asked sternly. His jaw clenched as he looked at his youngest daughter. Surprised that someone had noticed her presence, she looked at her father. A hopeful glimmer in her eyes. "I was just going to-"

"Sit down."

But that glimmer died too.

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The second time Y/n felt helpless happened in her own room...

Months had passed since the death of her beloved grandma, the only person who made Y/n feel like a human being, was gone. Just like that, without explanation...

Now nine years old, she grew quieter by the day. She saw no point in speaking unless spoken to. Mostly, though, she simply didn't feel safe anymore. Sure, she wasn’t abused. No one in her family hit her...

Back then, at least, she didn’t know there were other forms of abuse.

The nine-year-old sat on the floor. Weeks had gone by since she last spoke without even realizing it. "Y/n," she heard her mother and immediately looked up from her laptop. Hee-Jin smiled slightly. "What do you want to eat today?" her mother asked. Her voice was gentle, her eyebrows raised questioningly.

A simple question.

That should be easy to answer, right?

A smile formed on the youngest's face as she opened her mouth to reply.

But no sound came out.

Confusion. 

This was the first thing the young girl felt. She licked her lips once and opened her mouth again to answer her mother. After all, it was a simple question.

Desperation.

The tablet that had been on her lap slid to the floor as Y/n got on her knees. Her eyes wide open as she clung to her mother's pants leg. Her mouth opened as she tried to make any sound. She could speak! She could! She had been speaking for years... Why... Why wasn’t it working now?

"I asked what you want to eat. Is that so hard?" Hee-Jin's eyes narrowed in annoyance. "And stop pulling so hard," she added, freeing her pants leg from her daughter’s grip. "Fine, then! Just don’t complain if I cook something you don’t like," the older woman snapped as she left the youngest's room.

Helplessness...

No one ever helped her or cared for her...

She was young, desperate, and... alone.

Granny. Granny. Granny. Granny.... Save me.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Y/n could never cry. At least not for real-life events.

Just like now.

No matter how helpless she felt, she didn’t cry.

Her phone was off, its battery dead during the dare the college had organized on this trip.

Her back leaned against one of the thick trees as she pulled her legs to her chest. Her arms wrapped around her legs. Her eyes focused on one of the branches lying on the cold forest floor.

The rain had long soaked through her clothes. Cold, wet, and alone... like so often.

The moon shone bright, but the thick leaves on the trees let no light through. The youngest Kim alone in the forest.

Where was her partner?

He, whose name Y/n didn't even know, had lured her here, pushed her to the ground, and then immediately ran off. He left Y/n in the forest. Alone, wet, and with a dead battery. She couldn’t even call for help...

Her sense of direction was too poor to even try to find her way back. Afraid of getting even more lost in the forest...

The only thing she could do was sit here.

Alone...

And yet she didn’t cry.

Y/n was helpless...

For the third time in her life, she felt utterly helpless.

Please... save me, Hanni...

Unaware that Hanni, Yuna, Minji, Danielle, Felix, Haerin, and even Yeji were searching for her. In the pouring rain.

"So? Has anyone found any trace?" Haerin asked, holding an umbrella, slightly out of breath from all the running. Yuna, Felix, Minji, and Danielle gathered around her. None of them felt as helpless as Y/n. But each of them was scared. Scared of losing Y/n. Afraid something had happened to her.

"I’ll check the A spot," Yuna said anxiously. Her eyes wider than usual, and without another word, she ran off. She didn’t even grab an umbrella. She just ran through the rain.

No matter how scared each of them was, one particular college student was desperate and panicked. Completely drenched, she ran through the forest. Her mouth open to catch her breath now and then. Her hands clenched into fists. "Please. Please. Please," she prayed softly to a god she never believed in.

Pham Hanni didn’t believe in a god. But in this situation, she would pray to anything and anyone. She just wanted her girl back. Safe and sound.

"Y/n!"

Hanni’s eyes widened as she saw Yeji jogging over to a crouching Y/n. Yeji had an umbrella in hand and immediately held it over Y/n. Hanni stood still, rain mercilessly pounding on her head as she watched the scene from a distance. The raindrops rolled down her face as she breathed heavily.

The mute person’s hand gripped Yeji’s outstretched hand as she was pulled to her feet. "What are you doing here? Did you get lost? Where’s your partner?" Yeji asked, pulling the slightly smaller girl closer. Immediately, Yeji took off her college jacket and draped it over the mute girl’s shoulders.

With wide, somewhat surprised eyes that Yeji had found her, Y/n looked up at her ex-girlfriend. But she couldn’t answer. Not without her phone or tablet... She didn’t know sign language either.

"Whatever. We should get back. I don’t want you catching a cold," Yeji said, visibly concerned. Her eyes roamed over the younger girl’s entire body. She clicked her tongue when she saw Y/n’s knees were visibly scraped. "I’m going to kill your partner," she said threateningly.

Hanni, still standing in place, didn’t move. Her hands still clenched into fists. The thunder didn’t faze her. Her previously closed mouth now opened as she saw Yeji carrying HER girl on her back. Hanni’s thoughts raced.

I should intervene!

She belongs to me!

Get your hands off her!

I should have been the one to save her...

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Taglist: @sixflame438 @saysirhc @itzzyyyyyyydaaaa @somedaydream @wonyoungssi @gtfoiydlyj

[tawneybee]

Fnaf Movie things that got me

(⚠️LARGE SPOILER WARNING⚠️)

- The whole deal with the family layout is confusing to me. Vanessa is an Afton (another Vanessa-Elizabeth parallel) and has no mentions of other siblings, but it seems Mike and Abby aren't related to her so they're not Aftons.

- Which is weird because their family structure parallels the Afton kids. Mike is Micheal, the eldest brother. Garret is C.C, the middle brother with the striped shirt. And Abby is Elizabeth, the youngest sister who's name is an anagram for Baby (and could pass as a nickname for Eliz(abe)th).

- Also the age gap? Abby is 10 and I think they confirmed Mike is 30, which is pretty large. And that would make Garrett (unconfirmed age but his actor is 6) 14 years older than her. It's just interesting that the Schmidts had another child so late.

- This is something that everyone has been mentioning, but Nebraska is 9 hours away from Minnesota (where the movie takes place.) Why would William drive all the way up there to kidnap a random kid and drive all the way back? Unless it's not a random kid to him. Because of how Garrett's death parallels Charlie in so many ways, I've heard people suggest that Mike's father is actually Henry, and this is how William gets back at him for something involving the company. Plus it would explain why he recognizes Mike's last name.

- not to mention the Ella doll (once again an Abby-Elizabeth parallel since Ella's is a predecessor to Circus Baby in the Charliebot stages) was a springlock suit Abby was gonna be stuffed in.

-Now that I think about it- holy shit. In the end credits scene Puppet's music box plays while the words "COME FIND ME" are spelled out. What if Garrett possesses the Puppet to play into his Charlie parallel? That would be such a cool twist omg.

This will be updated with my thoughts but this is what I got so far

[cressidagrey]

Something good and right and real - Chapter 5

Summary:

Azriel had spent centuries believing that he of all people didn't deserve a mate. And if anything, the last three years had just galvinised that particular belief. And then he meets her.

The first time Oriana met Azriel, she thought that he reminded her of a skittish cat. Shy and a little bit broken. Good for him that she absolutely excelled in fixing the things around her.

Warnings:

Rhys Bashing, Discussion of Murder

Notes:

I put a lot of world building into this. If you don't recognise it from canon, I probably invented. Or I forgot that canon existed.

(thanks to @firefly-graphics for the super pretty dividers!)

Tartera lived in the mountains surrounding Velaris. 

Not unlike Hewn City, a whole world carved from the mountain. Hollowed out, held together by magic. Though, they had done it first. 

There were legends of her kind, of the first Tartera fairies being carved from stone itself. Maybe that was why they felt so at ease in the mountain. 

Oriana easily admitted that while she could withstand fire like every Tartera, she did like the sun and the fresh air. 

Cyrus hated going into the mountain. Probably not helped by the fact that he hated the fire as well. 

Still, once a year, for their grandmother’s birthday, they went into the mountain, Oriana holding a ball of fire in her palm as they made their way through the entrance, greeting the guards and then walking deeper into the mountain. 

It should just be around midday. Lunch promised to be a less formal affair than dinner ever had been, and her grandmother would probably be holding court like she usually did. 

Oriana had never actually asked how old her grandmother was. A few millennials maybe?

Her mother was close to 800 years old, after all, her oldest sister was around 600. 

Oriana was the youngest just over 200 years of age. 

But Cyra, Custodian of the Mountain…well, she was older than all of them. 

She could tell stories about things that hadn’t happened in centuries, about people long dead, a time before the great war…

Cyra had lived through it all. 

Still, their grandmother wasn’t the first member of their family that they met. That honour belonged to her brother Samson, a guard member that protected the mountain from…well, anybody that thought that they should get a cut out of the precious metals and gems they mined eyes day. They didn’t have many, enchantments and wards kept out…most if not all. 

He greeted them with a nod, a dark red cloak wrapped around broad shoulders, fastened with the traditional brooch, which made it obvious to what creed he belonged. 

“Cyrus, Oriana,” he rumbled, always a man of few words. 

“Samson,” she responded, having absolutely no qualms about coming up to him and hugging him, even when he never quite hugged her back. He never told her to stop either. And she knew he would do that if it really bothered him. “How has it been?”

“Not much has changed since last year,” he responded. “Titania was wondering when you two would finally arrive.”

Of course, their oldest sister would wonder. She was the first daughter of the first daughter after all. 

It marked her as 2nd in command to the mountains and their realm, if one could call it like that. 

They lived under the command of the Night Court but within the mountain, the word of her Grandmother was law. 

The word of Adara was law. The word of Titania was law. Then Althea, Titania's eldest daughter… 

Then Enya, their middle sister. 

It had never needed to go further down the line than that. 

Which was good for Oriana, because then it would have been her word that would be listened to, and nobody wanted that. 

She would make a really bad Custodian of the Mountain. Oriana wasn’t prideful enough to admit that. 

She much preferred the art of making jewellery over the art of ruling. Oriana would leave the ruling to her grandmother and mother and sister and niece. 

Oriana would stay in the forge. 

Still, she was the third daughter of the first daughter. If they kept to something as human as a title…well, then she would probably be something akin to a princess. 

A runaway princess. Who didn’t particularly like the title either. 

In the mountain, she was chattel of a sort. 

Not high enough in the line of succession to have any right to reign. But high enough that she had been used to broker an alliance between her family and Wynstan’s. Giving them a tertiary claim to her grandmother’s council table and cementing her mother’s claim to the headship of the mountain. 

“Well, here we are,” Cyrus responded with a sigh... “Just when we said we would come.” Samson just shrugged, all of them well used to their eldest sisters’ moods, and followed along with him to the Great Hall. 

Oriana pulled back her shoulders, patting down her unruly curls that escaped the bun she had urged it into that morning and then walked into the Great Hall behind her brothers. 

Their entrance was marked with the quietening of conversation until it finally ceased completely. Her fist clenched at that, but she said nothing, the smile on her face set in place, her shoulders back, every step measured. 

She wore one of her more traditional gowns, something that Enya had made for her years ago because she didn’t want to listen to her mother’s comments that she would make with near certainty if Oriana wore anything that wasn’t obviously Tartera in its origins. This was. This had her sister all over it. 

Complete with the belt comprised of chains and charms, that Oriana had made herself, every single one carrying her maker’s mark. 

She wore her creed openly, there for everybody to see. 

People stared. Of course, they did. 

Decades ago, the sight of Oriana had been common among the Great Hall, among the other fairies living in the mountain. 

She had worked here, lived along them. There had been no reason to think of her as anything but Tartera, even with her pointy ears. 

She had kept most of her abilities quiet, no fire dancing at her fingertips unless she was in the forge…no flames flicking through her eyes.  Then Wynstan…had happened, and her magic had been in a state of flux. She was quite certain that people had been terrified of her. 

Now…Now, with her only being here so rarely…well, Oriana was legend and myth. 

Oriana Fireborn, Third Daughter of the First Daughter. 

It was whispered behind her back. 

She wondered what some of them would think if they knew about what lay beneath the skirts swishing around her ankles. 

What she wasn’t wearing openly was the harness that kept the two knives Azriel had given her strapped to her thighs.  But it was still there, easily able to be accessed, thanks to the slits in the side seams of her skirt.

She highly doubted that she would even need them, but she was also quite sure that the only reason he hadn’t told her to wear them, was because he didn’t think she was going to agree to it. 

Jokes on him. She definitely agreed. 

Granted, the only person she had ever really thought about stabbing in the mountain was no other than Wynstan’s older brother Titus, but that could change.

And if the knives weren’t enough….well, she had Azriel’s shadows wrapped around her wrist, twisting themselves through her bracelet stacks, until it seemed like they were polished onyx and part of them. 

Her grandmother was holding court at the High Table. Even as tiny as her grandmother was, she still somehow seemed larger than life to Oriana. And the curtsy came to her like a second nature. 

“Oriana.” She was home. Old, wrinkled hands gently patted her cheek. “Let me look at you, little flame.”

She leaned into her grandmother’s touch, let the glamour that she kept around her eyes fall and her grandmother stared into the flames of her eyes, flicking merrily. 

Somehow her grandmother just seemed to know things. She stared at Oriana and a pleased smile appeared on her face. She wondered if her grandmother somehow knew about Azriel. 

“Happy Birthday,” Oriana said quietly. 

Her grandmother hummed. “We’ll talk tomorrow,” she told Oriana pointedly. 

Cyrus took her place as she rose gracefully and stepped to the side, dipping into a shallower curtsy as she reached her mother. 

When she was younger, Oriana had wanted to be like her mother. Otherworldly beautiful, bleeding elegance with every step. 

The one thing she had inherited from her was her height. Gracefulness had been something hard-won and definitely not inbred for her. 

And finally, Oriana had realised that while she could put on a mask of something similar to her mother if the situation called for it, she had absolutely no want whatsoever to spend every hour and every day like that. 

She was fine with that. 

“Mama,” she greeted her and her mother mustered her. She had the sudden want to twitch under her gaze and pat down her hair, but she didn’t. She wasn’t a youngling any longer. She was over two centuries old. Her mother should be well used to Oriana showing up, smudged with soot and still neck deep in the theory behind one of her enchantments. 

That was what she excelled in. 

“You are looking…well,” her mother finally said quietly. “Are you ready to come back to life with us properly?”

Of course. 

Regardless of how long Oriana stayed living in Velaris, regardless of how well she did there…her mother could still not understand it. 

Of course not. 

To her mother, every position within the mountain was higher than anything Oriana could reach outside of it. 

Within the mountain she had been one of the best, respected and even feared…Outside Oriana played at being a simple shopkeeper as far as her mother was concerned. 

“Not on a bet,” Oriana responded drily. “I quite like my life in Velaris.”

Her mother just sighed. 

“You were always odd,” came the voice of her oldest sister to her side and Oriana smiled at her. 

“Titania,” she greeted her. 

“Not bored yet of making nothing but earrings and bracelets?” Her sister asked, as always prodding and probing to find a chip in her armour. The problem was only that Oriana knew Titania’s playbook by heart. 

“It’s quite relaxing,” she responded evenly. “I think I of all people deserve that after what happened.”

Her sister softened. 

Regardless of how prickly Titania could be, there were a few things Oriana could count on. Titania would prickle and prod, but nobody else was allowed to do that same, or hell would rain onto them. 

And Titania adored her husband and daughter more than life itself. 

“I’ll never understand you,” Titania muttered under her breath, making Oriana laugh softly.

That was just the opening said husband and daughter needed to slide into the conversation, with Anthea happily coming bouncing right up and hugging her tightly. She had only celebrated her 20th birthday months ago, a child her sister had longed for desperately for decades until they had finally gotten her.

“Aunt Oriana!” Anthea sing songed. “So do I get a gift?” she asked her and Oriana couldn’t help but snort in amusement. 

“You aren’t the one whose birthday it is,” she pointed out reasonably. Anthea pouted. 

Oriana sighed, slipping off one of the many bracelets she wore. The one that she had made with Anthea in mind, a white opal inset. 

She held it out to her eldest niece, who snatched it up. 

“I am your favourite,” she singsonged. “Thank you!”

Toron, Anthea’s father, snorted in amusement, reaching out to ruffle Oriana’s hair. She glared at her brother-in-law. He gave her a bright grin in response. 

“You are all ridiculous,” Enya said, crossing her arms. The middle sister. “At least you are wearing a proper dress. I was terrified that the High Fae Fashion may have started to drag on you.” 

“I like my gowns. Especially this one. You made it after all,” Oriana agreed peacefully, taking a seat between Toron and Enya. 

“And what did you bring back for me?” Toron asked her. 

“You are too old for gifts,” she hit back with a roll of her eyes, amused beside herself.  

“700 years isn’t old,” he disagreed with a pout. 

“True, you are nearly a spring chicken,” Enya sniped under her breath. 

“Where’s Kiran?” she wondered, eyes searching around the room. 

“Where do you think he possibly could be?” Enya snorted in amusement. Right. Stupid question. Probably somewhere deep inside his forge. 

“How’s the leg holding up?” Oriana asked Toron and he shrugged. She looked down under the table as he pulled up his pants leg, showing the gold and silver prosthetic leg. He had lost his leg in the same accident that had killed Oriana’s father. 

The prosthetic leg had been made by himself, enchanted by Oriana and fitted by Enya, a healer by Creed. 

It worked a treat for him, still, it had taken decades to perfect it and Oriana still worried that it was going to stop working one day and she couldn’t fix it. 

She fixed everything. 

“All good,” he promised her. “Though I figured since you were here, you were going to take it apart once again.”

“Don’t think I have the time for it, I am not planning to stay longer than 3 days,” she admitted. “But I’ll check up on it.”

“Oh?” Toron asked, so much said in such a small noise. 

“I have things to take care of back in Velaris,” she admitted before she finally got to actually eat some of the food that was waiting for her. 

She slipped right back into the midst of her family. Now that she wasn’t with them year-round, she could appreciate them a whole lot more. Crazy, how that sounded. 

Still, she listened to the newest gossip that Enya provided and followed along with her sister as Enya dragged her to her room to get ready for the evening ball. 

“What have you done to your poor hair?” Enya asked her, pulling a grimace as she picked out the few dozen of hairpins that Oriana used on a normal day to keep her hair contained. 

It was long and thick and curly, and it never seemed to quite do what she wanted. So up into a bun it went, so that it wasnÄt going to interfere with her work. 

“Nothing?” Oriana asked and Enya growled at her. She knew better than to say anything when her sister got like that, dousing her hair in some kind of potion or other. 

She held her tongue, even when she worried about going bald. 

Still, whatever Enya did to her hair, for once managed to make it look…well, manageable. The curls were shiny and defined, and it was soft to the touch, falling to her waist in onyx black ringlets. 

“I’ll get you a bottle,” Enya muttered under her breath. “I can’t look at you when you look like that.” 

Oriana bit back the amusement. 

It wasn’t like she didn’t care how she looked. She was big enough to own too many dresses and way too much jewellery. But she was far removed from her older sisters, for whom all of that was a secondary calling of sports. 

If Enya wasn’t busy stitching up flesh, she was stitching up dresses. 

Still, Oriana sat through Enya’s primping and prodding with no protests, because that was how Enya showed her love. 

Oriana just snuck her jewellery in response. 

“You have a gown?” she asked Oriana, who just stared at her. 

“You mean a gown that you aren’t going to let me wear anyway?” she responded drily and Enya huffed. 

Oriana bit back a smile.

Enya did let her choose her own jewellery, let her pin back one side of her hair with a couple of pins decorated with white opals, her grandmother’s favourite stones. 

And then Enya brought out the dress. 

Marigold yellow layers upon layers of nearly shine through silk, so thin that everything could ruin it…so thin that it would be seethrough if there wasn’t so much of it. 

That together with a yellow-gold gem-studded belt that she had made for Enya years ago, so wide that it would cover much of her midsection. 

“I think it will look beautiful,” Enya told her, brokering no argument, already starting to unlace the back of her dress for her. 

“It’s gorgeous,” Oriana agreed as she pulled her dress over her head. 

For a moment, Enya was quiet. 

“Oriana.”

“Yes?”

“Any particular reason why in the world you have knives strapped to your thighs.”

Oriana would make a truly horrible spy, because she totally forgot that she had them. 

She had been so busy with…practically everything else that the knives that had been a comforting weight just hours prior had been promptly forgotten. 

Somehow she thought that Azriel would look at her with this face somewhere between amusement and tragic despair. 

“Call it protection?” Oriana suggested and Enya just glared at her. 

“Can you even use them?” her sister asked her. “Maybe we should have Samson show you how to do it. Before you accidentally stab yourself.”

“I can use them,” Oriana defended herself. “He taught me how to use them.”

“Samson?” Enya wondered. 

She bit her lip. 

“No,” she admitted. “My mate.”

Enya just stared at her. 

“Cyrus knows. Now you.”

And then there was only a soft shocked sound before Enya enveloped her into a tight hug. “Oh, Oriana. I am so pleased for you,” her sister whispered. 

Oriana knew that she meant it. 

Enya maybe didn’t want a mate for herself, but that didn’t stop her from being supportive of her.  

“When did it happen?” Enya asked her as she let her go, picking up the dress and helping Oriana pull it over her head. 

“A few weeks ago,” Oriana said softly. “I was just walking the streets…and there he was. I stumbled right into him.”

Enya would listen to all the details that Cyrus really couldn’t care less about. 

“So he's High Fae?” Enya asked her. 

“No,” Oriana answered. “Illyrian.”

“Illyrian,” Enya repeated, her eyes widening nearly comically. “He has wings .”

Oriana couldn’t hold back the laugh at that, because she had half expected that reaction though probably not for the reasons that one might think. 

“Oh yes, he has,” she agreed. Beautiful Wings at that. All of him was beautiful.  

“He can fly ,” Enya said wondrously and Oriana nodded. 

“He even took me flying with him,” she teased her sister. 

“I am so jealous,” Enya said with a sigh. “Does he have a brother I can borrow or something? Just for the flying?”

 “I’ll ask him,” Oriana volunteered and Enya just sighed once again, before shrewd eyes finally stared at the at the necklace that was still around her throat. 

“What about…” Enya started and Oriana interrupted her. 

“I am taking it off.”

At least she hoped she would. 

Oriana had a plan. 

She just hoped it would work. 

“You are?” Enya asked her, sounding surprised. 

Oriana just nodded. “Tonight.”

The faster she got it down, the quicker she was free of Wynstan and everything that marriage represented to her. 

And she didn’t want to wear the necklace anymore. 

She had taken notes after notes on it, written down the runic array she had used, and taken it apart…she would be able to replicate the protection she had on it. She was sure of that. 

Now she just needed to break it. 

“Why tonight?” Enya asked her quietly.

Of course, her sister was going to pick up on that. 

“Because nobody is going to be in the fire chamber when they are busy dancing,” Oriana answered honestly. 

“You want it to melt off you,” her sister responded, her voice flat. 

Oriana just shrugged. 

“I’ll sacrifice it. Return it to the mother,” she said softly. “It seems fair.”

And if the normal fire wouldn’t suffice…well, then she hoped that the eternal flame would be willing to lend a hand. 

“Why now?” 

“I waited for a century. I am not willing to wait any longer. ”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Her grandmother’s birthday celebration started with dinner and continued with dancing. 

Even Kiran came out of the forge at that, drinking too much sweet wine and having a grand old tie. 

And Oriana…well, she was happy that she got to dance. Even when the thoughts were crossing her mind of what she would be doing soon. As soon as the celebrations had started, when everybody was busy dancing…well. 

But right now she was enjoying herself. Right now, she was taking the opportunity to soak up the atmosphere and laugh when Toron twirled her around the floor. 

Or at least that had been the plan. 

But everybody knew what was said about best laid plans. 

She was twirled around by her brother, and then she suddenly wasn’t anymore, because the partners changed…and while it should have been Toron…well, Titus decided he should cut in. 

Which was just what Oriana needed. Not. 

Her former brother-in-law. He reminded her of Wynstan, a few inches taller, but the same dark hair, the same proud nose…

She could see her husband in his features, and somehow that was a specific kind of torture. 

“Oriana,” he greeted her, his voice cutting, even with just the simple word. 

“Titus,” she responded, forcing a smile on her face that hopefully looked like butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth. 

She was quite sure that she was failing. 

She tried to ignore the way his eyes trailed over her body, tried to ignore how the necklace heated in warning, and swallowed against it. 

She didn’t like this. Not at all. 

“You are still wearing it,” he said, his voice near mocking. 

“I am,” she agreed serenely. She was still wearing it. 

“You have been wearing it longer than the marriage was ever valid.” True. She was. “How does it feel to wear it when you are the one who killed it?”

Right.”

“How am I supposed to have killed him when it was his experiment?” she asked. 

She told herself that a lot over the years. It had been his experiment. He had been the one who had started it. 

She had just been…she had come in after it had already started. 

For years that’s what she had clung to. She had told herself that it was an accident. That Wynstan just hadn’t been careful enough. That it was a tragic accident and that if he had just been more careful, then it wouldn’t have needed to go down like that. 

And then…then she remembered every minute detail of what had gone down that day. 

 And she remembered…she remembered…she remembered how it should have killed her not him. How it had been supposed to kill her, not him. 

And how her own magic had responded, turning the flames away from herself and against him. 

His accident turned attempted murder, turned self-defence, turned…burning him to a crisp with all the might of magical fire that she had never pulled out of herself before…and hopefully never would again. 

“He made the mistake that cost his life. I was just caught in the crossfire.”

She said the words that she didn’t believe. The official version that people believed. 

“And you believe that?”” Titus hissed to her. 

She ignored that, ignored the stabbing pain somewhere in her chest region. It didn’t matter. 

“I believe that there is nothing I could have done differently,” she finally said, as she stepped back, as she finally could snatch back her hand from his grasp and get the hell away from him. 

She just knew that her eyes must be flaring, no longer the pitch black that she kept carefully pulled over them so that they didn’t terrify everybody that she met. 

The flames within her were flaring, licking out. 

Sometimes she could nearly feel it, the fire that she kept tightly leashed inside herself. 

Oh well, why not throw in some emotional turmoil when she was already at it? 

She shouldn’t have expected any differently. 

Sneaking out of the Grand Hall was easy, faeries too busy with the celebration to give her more than a second look. And even if they did, all they expected was for her to be tired and walk to her room and be done with it. 

She wasn’t. 

A part of her calmed as she walked further into the mountain. Down and down and down, right there into the middle, where the fire chamber resided. 

A circular room, deep into the mountains. And if one looked up when they stood inside it, one would be able to glimpse the night sky through the near tunnel-like opening at the top. 

The ground and walls were smooth through millennia of use, black and sooty. 

Opened the door, walked into the room, and closed it again. 

She was home. 

Regardless of where she lived, in the mountain or in Velaris, in her tiny apartment…there was one place that was always going to be her true home. 

And that were the flames flickering before her. 

Maybe it was because she had been born into their embrace. Maybe it was because like called to like and the fire within her recognised its kin. 

Maybe it was just her mind making it all up. 

But as she stood there, before the first ring of fire…she relaxed. 

It was the work of minutes as she pulled her dress over her head and left it carefully folded laying on one of the ledges in the wall, pulling off every bit of jewellery that she wore, the knives Azriel had given her…all of it. 

Until she was left in her wedding necklace and nothing else. 

She prodded off the shadow of her wrist. 

“I’ll be back in a few minutes,” she promised them quietly when they seemed to cling to her. 

Mistress, what are you doing? they asked her, their many voices intertwined in one. 

“I am going to take off my necklace,” she explained. “And for that, I need to walk into the fire. I don’t want you to get hurt in the flames. They won’t do anything to me, but I don’t know how they’ll react to you.”

They listened to her, but they still seemed anxious as they skittered away. 

It was going to be fine. 

She had thought about it. Nothing should happen. The fire should melt off the necklace, the enchantment would break, and all would be well. 

Oriana stared into the shadows for just a moment, feeling deep inside herself for that glowing string of fate, tied around her rib. She pushed all the love she had for Azriel into it. 

And then she turned and walked into the fire. 

At first, nothing happened. 

The first circle wasn’t even knee high as she breached it, but it immediately roared to life as she stepped through the boundary. 

Nearly playfully, the flames flicked along her skin, their heat a balm to her that not a lot of things would be able to replicate. 

She stood there for just a moment, waiting for the necklace to heat up, for the metal to grow molten and bendy. 

The outermost ring was the one they used for their ceremonies. The flames had been used to close the necklace in the first place. As a child, she had been passed through them at the blessing ceremony that came after her birth. She had walked through them when she had bled for the first time and became a woman in the eyes of her people. 

And she had been born into these flames like not many were. Her mother had chosen to give birth here, after a difficult pregnancy, hoping that this would mean that her child would be blessed. 

Oriana often wondered if that was the reason why her powers were as strong as they were. 

The flames that had seen her first minutes on the earth spilt upwards. 

But still, the necklace didn’t budge. 

She reached up, feeling the necklace heat up against her skin and she hissed as she felt that the fire was magical in nature. 

She didn’t have much time. 

Normal fire couldn’t hurt her, could hurt no Tartera. But Magical Fire was another question entirely. 

She had no other choice. 

She had hoped that the first ring would be enough, but she should have known that it wasn’t. 

She pushed herself through the next ring, and could nearly feel how that fucking necklace was already lashing out at her, her own magic turning against herself. 

Oriana had been so fucking stupid and now she was paying the prize for it. 

The heat kicked up so high that it was nearly making her nauseous 

Still nothing. 

Magic swirled around her as she clenched her teeth, as she tried to ignore the heat and the pain and the fear that wanted to grip her as she breached the third circle. 

This was too much. She shouldn’t have done this. She knew that. 

The heat was too much, the magic growing stronger in every consecutive circle. 

One didn’t simply walk through these circles. 

They protected the eternal flame within them and they were going to kill her if they judged her purpose to be anything but pure. 

And to be honest, it wasn’t pure.  It was desperate. 

I am sorry. I am sorry, she chanted desperately in her mind, hoping that this would be enough. Just the third circle. That needed to be enough. 

I can’t wear it anymore. I was stupid, but I just wanted to be free. When I made it, I just wanted to protect myself. I just didn’t want to be in the same situation again. I didn’t want to be bartered off. I just wanted to be safe…

She felt more than heard the magical crack. 

she forced her eyes open, even when the heat and pain of the necklace burning against her throat, seemingly making it impossible to breathe forced her against the stone floor, the fires of the third circle still burning around her. 

The Eternal Flame lit before her, in the very centre of the rings. 

Every Year, when it was time, the oldest of their people sacrificed themselves for its continued revival. Walked through the rings and never came back. 

The flame brought them into their afterlife, and in return, the magic of the donors wrapped itself around the mountain and the Tartera. 

Purely Magical. Eternally old. 

If Oriana petitioned it and it found her lacking, it would kill her. Or it would kill her anyway. 

Sometimes, very rarely. The Eternal Flame gifted a piece of itself to make it possible to forge something from it. 

Never enough for more than a single thing. Never given to anybody more than once. 

And now…now there she was, on her knees in front of it, and the necklace was going to kill her soon if she didn’t…

I want to be with my mate. 

I just want to be with him. 

Please. Please. Please. 

Please take it from me so I can be free. Please. I just want to be with him. I just want to love him. To cherish him. To protect him. 

She had been born into these flames. 

And so she reached out to them. 

They rushed up and up and up, the heat too much. 

They enveloped her once again like a favoured child. 

She gasped, tipping forwards, feeling the heat rush through her, feeling the magic of it punching through her, painless and quickly, her own enchantments not a single match to the powers of eternity. 

It pushed through every cell of her being, her own power feeling like kindling for it. 

And still…she wasn’t scared. 

The eternal flame was nothing more than gentle lickings of warmth against her skin, a roaring inferno to anybody else, white and blue as it took from her and melted away her necklace like it had never been there. 

She swore she could feel amusement coming from it as it cradled her close. 

“You are all my children after all, Little Flame.” the flame whispered to her and Oriana wished she could respond, but she couldn’t. “Love him. Cherish him. Protect him.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

[its-nwarden]

Ardan’s Descendants: Book 1 Demo Update

Ardan’s Descendants

Ardan’s Descendants is a WIP interactive fiction game set in the land of Ardan where the world and nearly every living thing are filled with an energy called aether. You start off as a child contained in a lab within the snow biome (one of the regions in Ardan). After escaping that prison you end up in Gairo, Lycras located in the desert biome where you’re enrolled in an academy and trained to become a member of an elite task force that’s been assigned the mission of ending the string of kidnappings taking place across all five regions of Ardan.

Having previously been a victim of the kidnappings in your younger years, this mission may help unlock the blurry memories of your past. Who were you before being kidnapped? What happened to the others who were held captive alongside you?

Features:

- Create your MC!

- Choose how you manipulate aether.

- Pick your weapon.

- Grow your MC’s Personality.

- Romance one of the 12 ROs- 6 male, 4 female, 2 nonbinary.

- Shape your story.

DEMO: (Prologue)

The ROs

Dax Ikarus(He/Him)- The Leader of your unit was born in the forest biome in the capital of Koteva. He has golden brown eyes, coily black hair cut low into a fade, and dark brown skin. Three silver earrings hang from his left ear.

There’s no denying he’s a great leader who looks after and cares for his squad. He’s quite popular amongst the trainees in the academy. He’s dead set on rising quickly through the ranks and takes his job seriously, but he’s pretty laid back when he’s around friends. Which is why it’s easy to sense he doesn’t seem to like you very much.

Noah Hendrix(He/Him)- The leader of a different unit. Comes from a wealthy and powerful family in the desert biome. The eldest of the Hendrix siblings and best friend of Dax. He has brown dreads with the sides shaved, hazel eyes, and light brown skin.

Known as the life of the party. Whereas Dax is popular, Noah is Infamous. A nonstop flirt and reckless. He may seem a little chaotic, but gets deadly serious when it comes to his siblings.

Naomi Hendrix(She/Her)- Was one of your classmates at the academy and joined your unit after graduating. The middle child of the Hendrix siblings. She has curly brown hair that’s cut into a bob, dark brown eyes, and light brown skin.

The embodiment of nope. Not really interested in the whole task force thing because she rather not be in any line of fire. When she’s not being dragged on missions you can find her at the nearest mall.

Noel Hendrix(They/Them)- Joins your unit along with Naomi. They’re the youngest of the siblings and are the most likely to take over the family business. They have curly brown shoulder-length hair, dark brown eyes, and light brown skin.

Smart, strategic, and quick on their feet. They’re not much of a fighter but if you go to them with a problem, nine times out of ten they’ll find the solution to it.

Gem Caten(He/Him)- Potentially the first friend you make at the compound. He grew up there and started going to the academy at the same time as you. He changes his hairstyle a lot, but his natural hair is straight and jet-black. He’ll usually put it in a half-updo. He has smokey black eyes and pale skin.

He’s a carefree, go-with-the-flow type of guy. His mom is the head of medicine at the compound so he kind of just naturally joined the task force.

Cameron Nadir(He/Him)- Basically lives at the compound. He’s a junior medic in training when you first meet him. He has dark blue eyes, shoulder-length blonde hair that’s shaved on the right side, and lightly tanned ivory skin. He has tattoos all along his left arm.

People’s first impression of him may be that he’s a bit of a troublemaker, which he is, but he’s also very caring.

Fay Webster(She/Her)- The team’s gear maker. Gets all the uniforms and weapons mission-ready. Born and raised in the desert biome in the city of Nelens. She has fiery red shoulder-length wavy hair, dark green eyes, and a rosy complexion.

She's creative, outgoing, and her mind runs a mile a minute coming up with new ideas. She admires the members of the task force and does her best to supply them with the latest technology.

Audrey Rokk(She/Her)- An ambassador of the water biome. Was born in the snow biome but moved to the water biome for work. She has naturally blonde and long silky hair, but she dyed it blue. Her eyes are light blue and has an olive skin tone.

Honest and hard-working. Unlike the majority of government officials you've met, she's down to earth and seems to care about more than just her own personal gains.

LIMITED DATA

Vin(He/Him)- You met him as a child at the lab. He had ivory skin and dark brown eyes, but his right eye had speckles of blue in it. His straight dark brown hair went a little bit past his shoulders and was pulled back into a bun.

You vividly remember how soft-spoken he was. He would cling to anyone in your little group that would allow him to.

Yara(She/Her)- She is the first kid you met in the lab. She had long dark brown braids, dark brown skin, and amber eyes.

You remember her being aloof and unwilling to get involved in any of the other's shenanigans.

Zeke(He/Him)- Was brought to the lab a year after you were. He had short slightly curly black hair, green eyes, and pale skin.

He was always grumpy, but one thing he seemed to enjoy was giving you a hard time.

Iris(They/Them)- An assassin you meet on a mission in the water biome. They have white hair, stormy grey eyes, and very pale skin.