#why do parents constantly expect the older children to just swoop in and parent when they dont want to

[marvelslut16]

I missed you, Doll

Prompt number: 13 “I missed this”

Fandom: Marvel 

Paring: 40s!Bucky Barnes x reader

Rating: G

Word count: 1.7k

Warnings: mentions of arranged marriage, spinsters, and 

A/N: Like always, I procrastinated so this isn’t really up to my standards. I really wanted to use a lot more 40s slang but I was running out of time. Either way, first time writing for 40s Bucky, and Bucky in general, but I absolutely love 40s Bucky. Also slight AU I suppose since Hydra and the serum don’t exist in this story. 

Growing up being best friends with Steve and Bucky caused many in the neighborhood to look down upon you, the older women in the neighborhood found it unbecoming that a  young lady was spending her time with boys. Their distaste for you only seemed to grow when you started to wear trousers in your teenage years, that way you could keep up with Bucky and you could move around easier to defend Steve. Now in your early twenties your neighbors consider you to be a spinster. 

You were about to practically beg Stevie to marry you, your parents would never approve but at least that way they would get off your back, but they arranged for you to marry a man fresh out of the army. His name is Bernard, he’s in his early forties and with just a few chaperoned dates you could tell he had an alcohol problem, a souse. He made it very clear that he didn’t like pants on a lady and if you ever wanted a proposal from him that you would have to wear skirts and dresses only. Your parents heard the ultimatum and burned every pair of trousers in your possession, leaving you with no other option than the flowy garments. After your parents forced you to say yes to his proposal Bernard forbade you from seeing Steve, your best friend and last connection to Bucky.

Every night you would cry yourself to sleep to the picture of Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes, the edges frayed from how often you clutched it. The picture was never far from your reach, always keeping it by your side tucked into a pocket of your handbag. Bernard didn’t know of the photo and neither did your parents, Bucky would send your letters to Steve’s apartment knowing they wouldn’t be intercepted by your overbearing parents that way. 

Bucky Barnes was a dream boat, he had women practically throwing themselves at his feet, even the married women. He would flirt with you constantly, but he flirted with every woman so you didn’t let it get to your head, especially when he started to date Dot before he was deployed. Much like every other woman you fell for Bucky and his charm, especially the caring side only you and Steve saw first hand. You had hoped that over the years his feelings would grow to match your own, but he never seemed to want to settle down, especially with you. 

Your father is throwing a party today, one where he officially announces to your relatives that you're engaged to Bernard and to be married by the end of the year. You can’t help but hide in a quiet corner and cry, you imagined this day since you were a child and none of it was how you imagined. Your father wasn’t announcing your engagement to Bucky, Steve by his side- he wasn’t even invited to the party. And neither was Rebecca Barnes, your best friend besides the boys and practically your sister. 

A knock on the door pulls you away from your silent tears, figuring it’s another guest for your party. You stand and flatten your blue dress with white polka dots and wipe your eyes with your gloved fingers, before faking a smile and opening the door. The figure on the other side of said door is the last person you ever expected to see again. Standing before you in all his glory is Bucky still in uniform, he looks stronger and even more handsome than when he left almost a year ago. 

Before you can say anything he swoops you into a hug, lifting you from the ground and spinning you around happily. When he sets you back on your feet he keeps his arms wrapped firmly around your waist, burying his face in the crook of your neck. You bury your own face into his strong shoulder, trying not to shake and alert him to the tears falling from your eyes. 

“I missed this,” he murmurs into your hair, strong arms pulling you impossibly closer to him. “I missed you, doll.”

“I missed you too, Bucky,” your voice breaks, Bucky tries to pull away to see what’s wrong when he hears this. But you won’t let him. You just want a few more moments of bliss before you're never allowed to see him or be in his arms again. 

“You stopped writing to me doll, why?” hurt laces his voice, causing your shoulders to shake as tears stream harder and faster. This time Bucky successfully pulls away slightly, right hand reaching up to caress your face, his calloused thumb wiping the tears away as they fall. “Steve and Rebecca both told me I needed to come see for myself when they picked me up from the station earlier. But you look fine, beautiful even, even if you aren’t in trousers. I wrote to you last month hoping you’d be there to pick me up. 

“(Y/N), sweetheart, who’s at the door?” before you can tell Bucky of the new developments, Bernard’s voice pulls you away from Bucky. You take a giant step away from the man you love, his face falls as his hand slips from your cheek, you look at the ground in hopes to calm your nerves and stop your tears. 

“Who are you?” there’s malice in Bucky’s voice as Bernard rounds the corner and into the front room with you and Bucky.

“I’m Bernard, (Y/N)’s future husband,” Bernard glares up at Bucky, turning to you and kissing you on the cheek, the stench of alcohol rolling off of him in waves. You try to pull away from his chapped lips but his arm snakes around your waist to keep you close, hand too close to your rear for your liking. “Who are you?”

“Sergeant James Barnes,” Bucky straightens his back and squares his shoulders, towering over Bernard in hopes to intimidate the older man. “I’m (Y/N)’s best friend and I was hoping to speak with her, seeing as how I just got home.”

“Seeing as she’s promised to me,” you let out a yelp as Bernard’s fingers dig painfully into your hip bone. “I’m afraid that’s inappropriate and I cannot allow it.”

“(Y/N) who’s at the door?” you father calls, too busy squirming trying to get out of Bernard’s hold you don’t answer him. He soon rounds the corner, eyes widening as he sees who's at the door. 

“Mr. (Y/L/N),” Bucky’s voice is strained as he glares at your father, his face softens as he turns to look at you. “Doll, tell me he’s treating you well and I’ll be on my way.”

“He’s not,” Bernard's grip so tightly you're surprised he hasn’t broken your bone or his fingers. “I can’t marry him Bucky, I tried to say no. No to marrying him, no to going on dates, but they forced me to.”

Bucky’s jaw ticks as he grinds his teeth down hard. He reaches forward, roughly grabbing Bernard’s hand and removing it from your waist, and gently pulling you into his arms. The sergeant’s deadly glare leaves Bernard and lands on your father. 

“You knew of my intentions with your daughter,” you know he’s fighting to keep his voice low so as not to alert the guests in the other rooms of the house. “And you still tried to arrange her to marry someone else while I was gone?”

“What are you talking about,” you rest your hand on Bucky’s chest as you stare hopefully into his crystal blue eyes. 

“I would like to know that too,” Bernard glares at both men in the room. 

“Before I left,” Bucky pushes a stray hair away from your eyes, talking to you as if you're the only in the room with him. “I made my intentions clear to your father that when I got home, if you’d have me that is, I wanted to marry you.”

“You do?” tears start to well up in your eyes, but for the first time in a long time they’re happy tears. Bucky nods, calloused thumb caressing your cheek again. “What about Dot? You two seemed to be going steady before you left.”

“She was in love with her milkman, and I was in love with you,” Bucky rests his forehead on yours. “I wanted to keep it a secret, ask you to marry me in person. But I couldn't wait any longer so I asked you in a letter, but then you stopped responding and I was worried I scared you off.”

“You could never scare me off Buck,” your hands slide up his chest and into the short strands of his chestnut hair. “I love you too much for that. Why else would I put up with you all these years?”

For the second time today, Bucky lifts you off your feet and twirls you around. “You’re making me the happiest man alive,” Bucky murmurs as he sets your giggling self down. “So doll, (Y/N), the love of my life, my best friend, would you put me out of my misery and be my wife?”

Bucky drops to his knee and pulls out the ring Steve brought to the station with him earlier, the ring Bucky bought for you before being shipped off, the ring that he wanted to give you before he left but he didn’t have your father’s permission. The diamond glints on the rays of sunlight streaming in from the picture window in the room. “Yes! Yes, of course!” you nod happily, and Bucky grins up at you as he slides the ring on your finger- it’s a perfect fit. 

You can hear the protests from Bernard and your father behind you, but both you and Bucky choose to ignore them. You don’t care about what either of them have to say, all you care about is the future you’ll finally get to have with Bucky, the man you’ve always loved. Bucky stands up and pulls you in for a searing kiss, your first ever kiss. Sparks shoot from your lips down to your toes, causing them to curl in pleasure. It’s a kiss you’ll remember for a lifetime, one you'll tell your children and grandchildren about. And there was no one you’d rather share it with than one James Buchanan Barnes.

Permeant tags: @crimson-knuckled-queen​ @rexorangecouny​

[red-jaebyrd]

My Brother’s Keeper

Ric hadn’t set out to make a new friend that day. In fact he hadn’t even expected to see the guy again once he had helped Ric push his busted cab to the side of the road.

Hardly anyone ever went out of their way to help others in Bludhaven. It surprised Ric when this guy, Jason just appeared as if out of nowhere to yell at honking drivers and help Ric get his cab out of the way of traffic. Ric had invited him to The Prodigal for a beer that night as a thank you. He wasn’t sure if Jason would even show up that night, but to his surprise he did.

“So what do you do when you're not swooping in to help complete strangers push their broken down cars out of rush hour traffic?” Ric asked.

Jason laughed. “Little bit of this, little bit of that, mostly free-lance stuff.”

It was a vague answer, but Ric let it slide. Everyone had their secrets, he couldn’t fault a guy he just met to have a few.

“Must be nice. Is it real lucrative?”

“The pay isn’t bad,” Jason shrugged. “I get to set my own hours and carry a gun.”

“Can’t argue with those perks,” Ric chuckled, taking a drink of his beer. “So did you grow up around here?”

“Nah, I grew up in Gotham, what about you?”

Ric tensed at hearing Gotham and gripped the handle of his beer mug tighter. He really hoped Jason wasn’t another one of Wayne’s associates trying to jog his memory and lure him back ‘home’. Maybe he should just play along.

“Same, seems everyone one I’ve run into lately is from Gotham.” Ric challenged.

“Well, to be fair Gotham is a pretty big place,” Jason replied causally. “So what brought you to Bludhaven?”

Ric shrugged allowing the tension to leave his shoulders. “Let’s just say I needed somewhere new to spread my wings.”

“And you chose Bludhaven?” Jason snorted. “Did you lose a bet?”

“Shut up.” Ric laughed, elbowing Jason in the arm. “Don’t knock it. You’re here too. What brought you to the ‘haven’?”

Jason ran a hand through his hair. His brow furrowed in thought before he answered. At first Ric thought that maybe he was prying too much into this guy’s life, or asking too many personal questions.  He couldn’t help it. He liked talking and Jason was the first person besides Bea that was actually interested in talking to him.

“Gotham wasn’t safe for us anymore, so my brothers and I bailed and came here.”

“Looks like you left just in time. I heard a lot of crazy shit with the Bat was happening in Gotham. Wait, did you say ‘brothers’?” Ric’s smiled wistfully.

Jason nodded. “I have four. One was staying with our sister the last time I checked in with him and the other two came here with me.”

Ric had always wondered what it would be like to be part of a big family.  He wondered if he had ever asked his parents for a brother or a sister. If they hadn’t died, would they have had more children? Would he have been a good big brother to them? Wayne did have a younger son, so Ric was technically a big brother, but he couldn’t remember his life with him. When it came to the Waynes, Ric was just a son and brother on paper.

“Where’s the other one? You said four brothers, but only mentioned three of them.”

He watched as Jason scratched along a groove in the wood of the bar, like he was trying to think of the right words to say. Ric’s stomach flipped as he started to speculate that maybe something serious did happen to Jason’s family. Or maybe Ric was just making Jason feel uncomfortable with all his questions. Ric did that sometimes when he got too excited talking to new people. Jason took a swig of his beer before answering Ric’s question.

“Our older brother...” Jason answered, running his fingers along the condensation of his mug. “…he went missing a few months ago. It’s been hard on the family, especially our father and my youngest brother.”

“I’m sorry. I can imagine it’s been difficult for everyone, especially you. It can’t be easy being the one that they depend on.”

Jason shook his head. “No, truthfully it sucks sometimes, but it has its moments. He was– I had a good role model and they’re good kids. They just miss him. I miss him too.”

“Well you got them somewhere safe,” Ric clapped a hand on Jason’s shoulder. “Well…relatively safe. Any leads on his whereabouts?”

“Nothing but dead ends. Deep down I don’t really think he wants to found,” Jason shrugged. “But I’ll keep looking for him. So what about you, any siblings?”

Ric knew a dismissal when he heard it. He didn’t mind the change in subject. He couldn’t blame Jason for not elaborating. It had to be stressful for anyone looking for a missing family member. He assumed this question was bound to make its way onto him.

“No, I’m an only child. My parents died when I was eight.”

“Shit, sorry man. We can talk about something else.”

“It’s fine. You told me about your brother. I can talk about this. I did get taken into a good home, so I shouldn’t really complain,” Ric shrugged.

“But…”

Ric shook his head. “It’s just frustrating to have these people who are supposed to be my ‘family’ constantly telling me how I should be living my life.”

“Oh, I know how that is, trust me. It’s the worst.”

“Right? Why can’t I live my life how I want to? I’m an adult. They’re not even interested in getting to know me,” Ric ranted. “They just want their precious ‘Dick Grayson’ back. It’s my life now not his, let me live it how I want to.”

Shit. He went too far. He could see the look of surprise on Jason’s face. The lull of silence between them stretched and Ric couldn’t form a cohesive thought. Ric’s brain was scrambling for something else to say, anything to say, to fix the mess he just made but nothing was coming. Instead his mind started replaying all recent moments of disappointed people coming and going in his life claiming that they loved him, but not wanting to take the time get to know him.

Ric really hated his brain sometimes and how there was no filter between what he was thinking and what came out of his mouth. He needed to explain himself to Jason fast. Ric knew Jason had to have noticed the gnarly scar on the side of his head. Maybe the scar would give him a free pass at his unfiltered choice of words.

“Sorry, sorry, that uh kinda came out of nowhere. I…uh…had a bit of an accident…” Ric explained, pointing at his scar. “…I got shot a few months ago and well let’s just say my “family” or whatever they want to call themselves, didn’t take to my recovery well.”

“I’m sorry. Sometimes injuries that intense can either bring a family closer together or tear them apart.”

Ric shrugged his shoulders. It had been rough having to relearn how to do everyday tasks like eating, writing his name, and walking. His “family” and friends had been there at every therapy session encouraging him with their words and overall presence. But the worst of it had been their reactions to the news that his memories of them were gone.

“I couldn’t remember them,” Ric admitted, staring at his near empty beer mug.  “They were literal strangers to me the moment I opened my eyes from the coma, and it was something that they wouldn’t accept. In the end their concern for me and my recovery just felt conditional, so I left and came here.”

“Damn. Do they at least check up on you?” Jason asked.

“The old man used to, but I haven’t seen him in a while. A red-headed chick did too, but I told her not to bother anymore. Not if she’s going to keep looking at me searching for ‘him’ to come back. Apparently the other guy they really want was a real ‘Golden boy’, that’s not me.”

Jason snorted.

“What did I say?” Ric quirked a smile.

“Nothing,” Jason smirked, and took a drink of his beer.

“I’m doing just fine on my own. I don’t need them.”

“No you don’t. I know they’re family, but fuck them.” Jason clinked his beer mug against Ric’s.

Oh Ric really liked this guy.

 8888

The next few weeks Ric and Jason met up at The Prodigal for beers. Some nights all they did was talk and drink. Other nights they drank and played pool. Jason became one of Ric’s favorite drinking buddies.

Ric couldn’t legitimately remember ever having a feeling of kinship with anyone like Jason before in his life. It was nice and a bit scary at the same time letting someone new in his life. Still, instead of running away from this newfound friendship, Ric embraced it.

Friendship was a concept Ric wasn’t sure he’d ever get used to again. He didn’t have many friends in Bludhaven, well friends that he remembered. Dick’s old friends wanted nothing to do with him. They kept waiting and pushing for Dick to “come back”. When he finally snapped at them that Dick was gone and never coming back, they stopped visiting him. He did have Bea. She was the only one who had welcomed him with open arms and genuinely wanted to get to know him.

Jason had been the only other person he had run into that also didn’t have some hidden agenda to “bring Dick back”. With Jason there wasn’t any pressure or demand to be anyone other than himself. He could be Ric with no expectations thrust upon him. Jason empathized with Ric’s struggle to find his identity apart from the Waynes.

This was what made hanging out with Jason so easy. The anxiety of having to censor himself, afraid he might say or do something that was so inherently not Dick didn’t exist when he was around Jason. It was such a relief and a weight off Ric’s shoulders to just exist in a space with a friend and be himself.

Once Jason had opened up to Ric, he learned that there was a whole slew of shit that had happened to his friend in just a short amount of time. Aside from his brother going missing, Jason had a serious falling out with his dad that had caused a significant rift between them causing him to take his brothers and leave. However, the most devastating news had to be hearing that Jason’s best friend had been killed while staying at an inpatient rehabilitation facility.

“I wish I had some advice to give you, but something tells me you weren’t looking for any,” Ric said.

“No, not really, just a sympathetic ear, I guess.”

“I’m sorry about your best friend. That really sucks what happened to him.”

“Thanks, man. At least we got to work one last job together before he died. Anyway, that’s enough of my bullshit. What’s up with you? You look like my little brother after seven Red Bulls and 3 hours of sleep.”

Ric sighed. “It’s kind of embarrassing, but I’ve been having these dreams lately of faceless people in weird costumes. In the dream I feel like I know them. I’m ready to say their name but I can’t talk. I wake up and by the time I try to recall the images I can’t remember them.”

“Do you think your memories are trying to come back?” Jason asked.

“I don’t know, maybe?” Ric shrugged.

“But…you don’t want them to come back, do you?”

It felt silly getting so worked up over something like lost memories resurfacing. Ric should be happy that parts of his lost past was trying to get through to him. He should be relieved that the 15 years of lost memories were finally starting to return, but he wasn’t happy or relieved. He was worried.

“What happens to me when I start remembering everything? Will I still be Ric when Dick’s memories come flooding back filling in the gaps? What if I don’t like the things I start to remember? What then?”

Jason turned in his stool to face Ric. “No matter what, you’ll still be Ric. You’ll still be the guy with the busted cab I had to push out of traffic. You’ll still be the guy that kicks my ass playing pool. You’ll still be the guy who insists on buying the first round and listening to all my bullshit. You’ll still be you, just with new memories.

“No matter what happens you are not obligated to go back to your old life or live your life by your old memories. You don’t owe those assholes in Gotham anything.”

Ric nodded allowing Jason’s words to sink in.

“We’ll take it one day at a time,” Jason clapped a hand on Ric’s shoulder. “Next round is on me.”

The anxiety slowly started to ebb away as Ric watched his friend leave their high top table and make his way to the bar to get another round of beers.

Ric couldn’t stop the new memories from coming. They were coming whether he wanted them to or not. And when they did come he was glad to have found such a great friend in Jason. The man was right, no matter what happened, he was not obligated to go back to his old life or live his life by his old memories.

Part 2: Somebody That I Used to Know

[justkeeptrekkin]

Object Permanence Prompts: I'm thinking like... a family day out? Maybe a zoo or aquarium?

Why yes, my dear, dear Tumblr friendo. I would most certainly like to write a family day out at the zoo/aquarium. thank you for the prompt <3

***

There are many benefits to being (at last) financially stable. For most of his teenage years Meng Yao focused all of his efforts on building a life that would grant him something close to autonomy. And when Meng Yao focuses his efforts, it is with a precision so sharp and precise that it is almost nauseating; the dizzy feeling of straining to look at a distant target and not letting yourself look away. Meng Yao has kept his eye on those targets for as long as he can remember.

He never imagined this being one of them. ‘This’ being the freedom to take a day off from work in order to go on a family day out to the zoo. 

A-Xing is now not so much a toddler as a trotter. The determination to run is clear, and yet toddling just doesn’t seem to be cutting it anymore -- and so he trots about the flat, laughing as he goes, like he’s performed a magic trick. Sometimes it does feel a bit like magic to Meng Yao, who will invigilate these bursts of energy with amusement and awe. It still takes some getting used to, having a child, even after all this time.

Now, A-Xing is running down the quiet path past the goat and antelope enclosures. Meng Yao watches, holding the baby’s little windbreaker, and waits for the moment that A-Xing will inevitably fall over and either burst into heartbroken tears or get right back up like a ping-pong ball.

“What do you think so far?” Lan Xichen asks.

The weather is bright and cool, and the sun is caught behind Lan Xichen. Meng Yao winces in the light, then looks ahead at where A-Xing has stopped to inspect a pebble on the ground.

“It’s calmer than I expected,” he admits. “Though that may be because it’s a Tuesday morning.”

Lan Xichen nods sagely. Initially, the thought of going to the zoo had been pretty hellish. Wei Wuxian had given them the idea, and as a habit, Meng Yao ignores most of his ideas. But then he’d gone on about how formative these early years are in creating happy memories, of doing things as a family, of experiencing days out together, expanding children’s horizons, introducing them to the animals that they’re constantly learning in their pop up books -- and Meng Yao had secretly conceded that Wei Wuxian may, perhaps, have a kernel of a point.

That, and Lan Xichen admitted later that evening whilst they were reading in bed that he had never been to the zoo before. And Meng Yao shared that he hadn’t either. And so it was tacitly agreed that they would raise their child neither like Lan Qiren nor like Meng Shi -- as hard as they both did try.

So far, they have seen otters (Lan Xichen had made a subtle comment on Meng Yao finding his ‘true family’) and giraffes (Meng Yao had returned the gag), and have not had a chance to look at much else because A-Xing has been running a marathon through the whole park. They’d stopped for an ice-cream, which A-Xing tried and then promptly decided he didn’t want after all, so Lan Xichen is currently eating a child-size, soft-serve vanilla cone.

“I’m finding it far less chaotic that Wangji suggested it would be,” Lan Xichen says after he finishes the last of the ice-cream cone.

Meng Yao purses his lips. “Wangji was dragged by Wei Wuxian on a Saturday afternoon with Nie Huaisang. I can’t imagine anything more chaotic.”

Lan Xichen narrows his eyes and his shoulders move with a silent laugh.

Up ahead, there’s the quiet whining sounds of A-Xing trying to decide whether or not he’s going to cry. He’s on his hands and knees. Lan Xichen swoops him up into his arms and blows a raspberry against the baby’s cheek before he can even think about crying, and he starts to laugh instead. The thing they have discovered about A-Xing is that he is a swiftly moving pendulum between unspeakable distress and uncontainable joy. There is rarely anything in between, aside from perhaps face-crumpling frustration.

“Look, A-Xing,” Meng Yao says. He’s using his painfully positive voice and dimply smile, which he’s discovered can sway both adults and babies. “Look -- there are penguins. Shall we have a look at the penguins?”

Bumps and bruises forgotten, A-Xing struggles in Lan Xichen’s arms to look where Meng Yao is pointing. Ahead, there is an open top enclosure with glass walls, a little huddle of penguins, and a few solo penguins hopping out of the water and waddling around. They’re small and occasionally make a ridiculous squawk. 

Meng Yao reads the placard, because, in Nie Huaisang’s words, he’s ‘like, super boring’. He sees it simply as not passing up on the opportunity to learn something.

A-Xing stares in that wide-eyed, zoned out awe that young children have. Lan Xichen holds their child and they both look into the enclosure together, heads huddled like they’re penguins, too. It’s a natural and wholesome sight, the picture of fatherhood that Meng Yao had never been able to imagine until he took in A-Xing.

“The Adélie penguin is one of the most common species of penguin, originating from the coast of Antarctica. They like to forage for their meals and are even known to steal from each other.” Meng Yao looks up at Lan Xichen, who is angling A-Xing so that he can see the penguins. “These are called penguins, A-Xing.”

“They have black and white fur,” Lan Xichen explains.

Another family stands further along from them, a slightly older child pressing her face to the glass and steaming it up with her breath. And then A-Xing begins to wriggle again, and so Lan Xichen puts him down and they watch him career ahead. Yes, it has taken getting used to, having a child. Another thing that has taken getting used to is being able to share all of the trials and tribulations of having a child with Lan Xichen. It still, therefore, leaves Meng Yao with that pleasant jolt of surprise when Lan Xichen reaches out his hand and links fingers with his.

In one of those startling, lovely moments of lucidity, he reminds himself: We’re parents.

Keeping the baby at a reasonable distance (Meng Yao itches to pick him up but allows A-Xing a certain amount of freedom), they find the aquarium. It’s dark and damp and warm and reminds him of some of the dorm rooms he had to live in at university. There are more fish here than there were there, though. And it’s more peaceful.

The light undulates through the tanks like some beautiful phenomenon in the night sky. Meng Yao holds a quiet A-Xing in his arms, brings him to the glass as they watch the jellyfish drift. Pink frills and tentacles stretch, and A-Xing goes very contemplative as he stares. That’s a very sobre expression for someone just over one year old; he must have picked that up from Lan Xichen, who has his hand on Meng Yao’s waist. The three of them watch the jellyfish in meditative silence.

The clown fish cause a little more excitement. A-Xing presses a tiny hand to the glass and makes quiet hiccuping noises of surprise when the little orange fish dart about in their anemones.

“A little orange fish,” Meng Yao points out. “It’s called a clown fish, A-Xing.”

“Fish.”

Lan Xichen goes very still next to him. They both look down at the baby.

“Fish?” Lan Xichen asks with raised brows, as if he’d misheard.

“Fish,” says A-Xing.

Meng Yao looks down at the little miracle in his arms. A-Xing utterly obvious to the somersaults his heart is doing, the tightness in his throat, the suffocating pride he feels that’s making him grin. Instead, he’s pressing his palm to the glass and frowning in concentration.

“Baba,” A-Xing says, tapping the glass. “Fish.”

“Yes, it’s a fish,” Meng Yao says as calmly and brightly as possible. “A-Xing, show baba and diedie the fish again.”

“Fish.”

Oh god. If there is anything that could make this moment better, it’s the little smile on Lan Xichen’s face, creeping up behind the dreamy look of awe. “Extraordinary,” Lan Xichen says. And then he kisses the top of A-Xing’s little black head of hair.

It is. A-Xing is extraordinary. Everything he does is extraordinary. Everything about this unexpected life is extraordinary.

My child is a genius, Meng Yao thinks as he kisses his cheeks and smiles himself giddy.

[rockcfellers]

 /   let  me  introduce  you  to  a  prized  member  of  our   student government   ,   arden rockefeller .  this   cisfemale  virgo   has  been  a  student  at  our  institution for   seven years   and  is  currently  a  21  year  old   junior.   through  the  halls ,   she  has   always  reminded  me  of   danielle rose russell  ,   but  there  is  always  more  than  meets  the  eye ,   like  the  fact  that  she managed to get somene’s admission to cape coral deferred a year for her own benefit .  coral  cape  has  made  their  future  just  as  bright  as  their  smile ,   i  assure  you .  ʼ      (   muse 10 ,  adri ,  19 ,  cst ,  she/her   )

go on, replace me, when you’re craving something sweeter than the words i left in your mouth, go on and spit me out

NAME — arden olivia rockefeller.

NICKNAMES — n/a? 

PRONOUNS — she/her.

AGE & DOB — 21 & august 23, 1998.

PLACE OF BIRTH — new york city, new york.

NATIONALITY — american.

MAJOR — psychology & political science.

EDUCATION — cape coral international school.

CLUBS — student government, unicef campus initiative, and lacrosse.

* background overview !

arden is twins with her brother, neels, both first born to this half of the rockefeller generation (he’s older by several minutes, but she’ll never attest to that) they’ve always been kinda close but never attached at the hip.

you know, i honestly feel like she had a fairly decent? childhood? like nothing was really wrong, just that her parents were always busy and never really gave the attention they should’ve to young children. 

she was typically always very bright and cheery to everyone, evoking a “your daughter’s so sweet” from most people she met, which felt like the biggest compliment to her, because it meant that someone thought she was nice even if they disliked the rest of her family for any given reason, kind of like a twisted self worth?

her parents definitely would’ve preferred she did something that seemed more feminine, but arden found a love for kickboxing and later lacrosse, the two sports a great place for her to channel her energy into, letting her mellow out when she’s going through her day to day routine.

arden’s still figuring out how to be both who she’s expected to be and who she wants to be without facing any real repercussions, but hasn’t quite gotten that part down yet.

it was always known she could come to cape coral, considering her family, but she’s lowkey really grateful that she was given the opportunity to study what she wanted where she wanted. 

that being said.... she’s still kinda a bitch. i mean, someone she knew from outside of cape coral wanted to applied and had gotten accepted, but arden had worried that they would interfere from her getting idk maybe a spot in the student government or accepted into her research program etc etc, so she talked to her grandfather and had their admission deferred a year so that her studies wouldn’t be affected.

* personality !

okay so,,,she is New so i’m still working out all the kinks but for the most part, she’s just.. neutral

before, she used to be like aggressively happy and cheery and nice. probably to compensate for the fact that everyone around her just seemed so mean.

she’s always hated being seen as weaker than or less than anyone else, which is partially why she’s taken up lacrosse and boxing, much to her grandfather’s distaste. 

now she’s more focused on herself and is capable of being able to brush off any kind of comment that comes from people she doesn’t feel like directly affect her, which isn’t a great mentality to have but neither is caring too much about what other people think

the part of her that was very kind and viewed life with a sweet naivety is there, but heavily guarded and buried. she just feels like, it’s not something that’ll do her much good rather than leave her looking a mess or fool when someone takes advantage of it.

she’s like,,,the person that isn’t afraid to knock you down a few pegs but will do so with the sweetest smile on her face to really seal the deal. 

she found an interest in politics, actually hating the way things were run but really enjoying finding out why people did and voted and favored the things they did, so she’s double majoring in psychology and political science

she tries to do everything on her own and hates asking for help, like even when she really needs to, but it’s mostly because really needing someone makes her uneasy because she’s always wondering if they’re going to leave her eventually or if they’re just using her or if they really don’t care about her the way she cares for them

that being said, she’s loyal as all hell to her loved ones. like will literally help you get away with murder if you asked her for help, once you’ve reached that point you are absolutely important to her.

* character tropes !

so she’s basically the maiden in the sense that she’s typically overly self confident and finds herself in positions where she’s stuck and needs help, whether it’s being in too many things at once and being too spread out or like in actual danger. arden heavily takes after her parents in the sense that she wants to be wholly capable of taking care of herself, the feeling of being dependent on someone making her uneasy. because of this, she finds herself in situations that could’ve been completely avoided if she had just taken a step off her high horse and admitted or realized she couldn’t do it on her own. the confidence she exhibits today was a learned trait however, arden getting her heartbroken by someone she had really loved taught her how to be comfortable with herself and just be a Badass, but protect the softer side to herself from then on.

* playlist !

wasabi — little mix:

stick like toffee, sip like coffee wake up, change your mind and drop me love to hate me, crazy, shady spit me out like hot wasabi lick me up, I'm sweet and salty mix it up and down my body love to hate me, praise me, shame me either way you talk about me

arden’s a strong believer in the quote by william shakespeare “love me or hate me, both are in my favour. If you love me, i will always be in your heart… if you hate me, i’ll always be in your mind.” she’s really aware of how she can come across as, but is really selective in who she cares to spend time showing her full self to. everyone else and every other opinion gets taken with a grain of salt. she’s definitely had friends that only used her for her name and then dropped her once they were done,she wasted no time moving on.

hold me while you wait — lewis capaldi:

i wish you'd cared a little more (hold me while you wait) i wish you'd told me this before (hold me while you wait) my love, my love, my love, my love won't you stay a while? (hold me while you wait)

a few years ago, she was in a relationship where she had cared a little bit too much about what they thought of her, finding herself seeking their approval for everything, truly believing this person was the sun. she fell hard and fast for them and they took advantage of this and cheated on her, thinking that they would get away with it… and they did for a while. arden tried to excuse it because of how much she loved them, but was starting to feel like she was never going to be good enough for them, but staying with them until things ultimately came to an end, still holding onto the hope that things would change. eventually she realized that she couldn’t keep holding onto that relationship forever and things ended.

winter — relic:

where am i going? i can’t see nothing but the road that’s out in front of me i think it’s snowing

arden’s the worst at multitasking and it shows even in her life. she’s very one track minded and knows what she wants out of it, but only sees one way to get there, so everything that’s the tiniest bit off her track, she gets thrown off completely and needs someone to just nicely push her back in the direction she was headed.

* aesthetics !

candle lights, the breathlessness felt when seeing big city skylines, scrunchies, tart strawberries dipped in sugar, iced coffee in mason jars, long swooping cursive, high-waisted jeans, half opened jewelry boxes, setting a new pen against fresh paper, standing outside during the middle of a sun-shower, tucked in shirts, a hand reaching out to catch you when you fall, golden hour. 

* wanted plots !

i’m the worst at coming up with things but,,,,, here’s a few 

general friends: honestly some from childhood, some from high school, others from college, give me New friend with the people coming on scholarship, anything

best friends: someone that’s been by her side for years, someone she’d literally trust with her whole life

ride or dies: honestly what it says, maybe like two or three of them that have been through the thick and thin of it but still have a really strong friendship in the end?

confidant: honestly, probably someone she’s close with, but doesn’t see on a regular basis? maybe they just box together from time to time to blow off steam? it helps if they’re not someone she’d see all the time, that way she’s not constantly staring her admission in the face

bad influence: someone who can teach her to let go and get out more, care even less about what others think, especially her parents. even if that’s taking her to parties or drinking/smoking alone in a room

exes ( good, bad, anything in between ): you know the drill, hit me with the good angst. (male, female, nb)

roommate ( probably a cape coral student ): arden doesn’t like needing people but that doesn’t mean she wants to be alone, they probably have a pretty nice place together ngl. i picture it being really cozy and nicely decorated?

hook ups: you also know this drill, sometimes you gotta blow off steam. (male, female, nb)

[bestfriendforhire]

Children of BFFH, Entry 73

 “Care if I do some scouting now that we’re away from Ashengarde City?” asked Rona hopefully.  Having a character name that matched her actual name was convenient, but I still had her on my list.  When she had asked me to join her and some friends on a quest, I didn’t really expect anything as grandiose as this, nor as time-consuming.

 “Good plan.  I’ll cover the ground.” replied Holly Wood, who appeared to be a River Elf.  She had a bow and several types of swords.  Though Forest Elves were constantly fighting my people for land, River Elves were too far away to care about Muckbluck Goblins.

 I scanned my list for the player name that Rona had provided me.  “Doc” was what she had told me.  Was she actually named that?  If not, why would they call her a doc?

 “Anyone willing to carry my pack?” questioned Rona.  “Gets in the way if something attacks me.”

 “I’ll take it.  Perseverance can carry a lot.” I told her, having my character accept the moment she offered.  On one hand, a Paladin was guaranteed to be the most trustworthy ally, but handing over these ridiculously expensive packs with their even more expensive contents was insane.  Though Rona and I have been texting, we only met two days ago.

 My jaw dropped open as Rona changed into a black bird and flew away.  I’d have never guessed that her character was a shapeshifter.  Was that racial or a spell she knew?  Actually, I didn’t have a clue what any of these people could do.

 “Where’s Holly?” I questioned, realizing I couldn’t see her.  “I was going to assist her, since my stealth is decent, despite my armor.”

 Damien’s laughter was easy to recognize, despite being muffled from the coffin he was in.  “You’d never keep up.” he insisted.  I certainly hadn’t expected several characters to be vampires.  They all had very stereotypical coffins, hauled in a wagon covered by a canvas.

 “What Greythorn is trying to tell you is that Holly is a Ranger, as in the title.  She’s the best tracker and scout among us in the wilds.” explained Peredur, a tall fairy-like boy brown hair and gossamer wings.  He looked like a type of melee combatant with several weapons strapped to him.

 According to my list, that was… Four?  I really hoped his parents hadn’t numbered him.  I was fairly sure my clan had a NPC Ranger, but I didn’t have a clue what a player had to go through to get the title.

 “That does sound advantageous.” I admitted, wishing I knew more than that these were Four’s friends.  None of them sounded like adults, but did they all know Damien in person?  “If you don’t mind my asking, how did all of you meet?” I questioned.

 There was a brief pause before anyone replied.  Then Anima said, “Excluding Rona, we’re the children of Best Friend For Hire.  We all grew up playing this together where our parents work.  Since you’re going to see some strange things from my character anyway, I might as well tell you that my mom is the game’s developer, giving my character a unique inheritance.”

 Anima looked like a human priest.  She wore a perfectly white robe with silver trim and a black belt that held her morningstar and a dagger, so I assumed she was a healer, though most people focused on healing also carried a shield.

 “She means to say we inherited some admin-like abilities.” asserted Justine, sounding giddy.  Justine was probably human, though her skin and hair were perfectly white.  She wore a short skirt and a tight-fitting top, both in black.  The gold stripes on them made her look like some sort of superhero.  Lifting the enormous hammer strapped to her back would take inhuman strength outside of the game.

 Messy and Crazy were the supposed names of these two.  Was Rona just messing with me, or did they really call one another that?

 “So you’re sisters?” I asked, trying not to say anything embarrassing as my brain struggled with the idea that I was playing Ancient Tribes of Earth with the creator’s daughters.

 As Justine laughed, Anima said, “No.  Technically, she’s my niece, but we’re about the same age.  My sister is older.”

 “When you say admin-like, what sort of abilities do you have?” I asked hopefully.  Realizing she might not want to tell me, I quickly said, “Sorry.  I am curious, but you don’t have to say, though knowing what all of you can do might help if we get into a fight.”

 “Just listen to Ella or Four.  Ella probably remembers you exist by now.  She’s our de facto battle master when Four doesn’t take charge.  He’s our leader.” explained Kyduan, whom Rona named Aid.

 “Remembers I exist?” I prodded, not sure what to think of that.

 “Ella has very poor short-term memory.” explained Anima.  “As for my abilities, I can do things like this.” she stated just as an elephant appeared next to me.  “I ran into some trouble a few months ago, so I’ve been working at leveling my unique skills.  I can summon a large variety of the game’s creatures now.”

 “I spawn weapons, not creatures.” asserted Justine, using the shrug emote.

 “Okay…  so Anima is a healer with beast summoning, and Justine is a fighter?” I asked to confirm.

 “Yes, I primarily heal, so good way to think of us.” replied Anima.

 “I’m working on a Wizard title, so I have a very large number of diverse spells.” supplied Kyduan.

 “What’s that one give you?” I asked, feeling curious.

 “A flat twenty-five percent off on spell cost, twenty-five percent increased effect, and a number of unique spells.  The real trick to getting it is keeping all spell skills balanced for an extended period.  I have to do non-combat spells constantly to keep them on par with my other spells.” he explained.

 “If we explain what we can do, will you be able to remember which is which?” questioned Ada, who was walking by Adele, Adeline, and Adelaide.  The only distinct difference between the Elven girls were their weapons.

 I wasn’t even certain what type of Elves they were.  “I’ll certainly try, but… why did you make your characters so similar?”

 “We’re quadruplets.” stated Adeline, though she sounded exactly the same to me.

 Then Adelaide said, “Identical quadruplets.”

 “We’re used to matching.” added Adele.

 “I go to school with identical twins, but I haven’t met quadruplets before.” I admitted.

 Before I could say more, Holly came running toward us, calling “Hármann raiding party coming our way on blighthounds.”

 “How many?” asked Peredur immediately.

 “Around thirty.  I didn’t take the time for an accurate count, but I didn’t see any Pride Marks.” she replied.

 If I remembered right, Hármann painted their bodies as displays of their previous victories.

 “I took count!” exclaimed Rona as she came swooping down to land on Peredur’s shoulder. “Thirty-three of them.”

 “Can you control your minions from the air?” asked Four.

 “You bet!” she exclaimed.

 “Try to get them around to flank while flying circles over the Hármann party.” ordered Four.  “We’ll move to intercept, so Megwrn can see what we can do.  Ella, ambush plan.”

 Seemingly without even needing time to think, Ella said, “Right.  Mounted Hármann.  Aid stay with the cart and give the vampires cover on my mark.  They’ll charge in from the side after we engage.  Doc will create a trench in front of their charge, aiming to trip their mounts.  Then standard wall and assault formation.  Rona, use your magic to keep them funneled after the trench is deployed.  Some might try to escape the open side of our formation.  Messy, summon something ferocious if any get through the walls.  Layla, you’re part of the wall, so front line on the left, please.”

 “Wait.  My duty is to first try to make peace first.  As violent as they are, Hármann are intelligent.” I explained, knowing my new friends weren’t experienced at playing with a Paladin in their party.  “Also, what minions?”

 “Rona’s a Necromancer.  Don’t worry.  They’re not inherently evil.” supplied Justine.

 I had no experience with necromancers at all, so I had to take her word for it.  I was a little disturbed that I missed the fact we had Undead following us somewhere nearby.

 “In that case, hurry off to meet them.  When diplomacy fails, charge toward that thicket.” ordered Ella as she made her character point.  “We’ll reach there in time to hide.”

 I replied with the nod emote and hurried off.  This wasn’t how I was used to playing, but the experience would be good.  Small parties of my Goblin brethren rarely accomplished much compared with guilds like The Garde, and my solo play was largely just role-playing with the game’s NPCs.

 Spotting the raiding party, I rode out toward them, reigning Perseverance in a good fifty meters from them and casting Divine Presence to make me more noticeable while increasing my voice range.  Then I activated diplomacy and called “Please, stop and speak with me!”

 The riders turned as a group toward me and started speeding up.

 “If you do not slow yourselves, I’ll take that as a sign that you’re looking to fight.” I told them, frowning when there wasn’t a reaction.  With a sigh, I charged toward the thicket.  Diplomacy rarely worked on raiding parties, but I still hoped to pull it off eventually.  As I rode, careful not to outpace the raiders by too much, I pulled Hamchopper to the ready.

 When my mom decided to retire from the game, she had gifted me her giant cleaver, Hamchopper, as well as her armor and other gear.  Nekopawpaw had made Hamchopper a couple years ago as a special order through Uncle Mick, and the cleaver had proven its worth through countless fights.  Without the great gear, I probably wouldn’t have managed becoming a Paladin.

 Hearing the sounds of Hármann screaming behind me, I glanced back to see the back lines crashing into the front as a large pit opened in the ground.  By the time I was looking ahead again, spells and arrows were flying past me.  I hurried around to take my place, jumping off Perseverance as I reached the end of the line.

 A moving cloud of darkness charged into the Hármann raiders from the side, and the screams intensified.  When a zombie leaped onto the back of a Hármann who had attempted to flee, I realized that the fight wouldn’t even reach me.  I had seen some similar one-sided victories from the great warriors of my clan, but I never expected such a feat from other kids.

[etoilesdephan]

Brave on like the stars

Summary: How cruelly beautiful is the universe. Through childhood, two children, into the adulthood, a single man with a torn heart.

TRIGGER WARNING: Major character death. 

Word count: 3.6k

Read it on ao3!

A/N: THIS IS UNEDITED WORK. Mostly because I actually cried while writing this and I couldn't bear going back to edit it. I'm sorry, maybe I will edit someday.I have no excuse for writing this.

======

“Phiiiiiiiilllll,” The child's voice yelled as the little boy, still stumbling over his feet a little, ran across the room and jumped onto the older boy who fell back with the weight of another body colliding with his. They tumbled, laughing, on the ground, and the two mothers looked at them fondly as the two-year-old Dan pressed a sloppy kiss on six-year-old Phil's cheek only causing Phil to flail.

“I love you, Phil!” Dan announced, the voice high and happy and he squealed when the older boy pulled him in for a hug before starting to tickle the younger boy.

The happiness was all around them, and they remained sunny.

======

“Did you know that stars are really really, really far away?” Phil asked and there was a wonder in Dan's dark eyes as they looked up at the rare clear sky through Phil's bedroom window.

“But they look so close, almost as if,” Dan went on his tiptoes, reaching a hand up, touching the window pane “I could touch them, if I was tall enough.”

“No, they are very far away!” Phil spoke, the equal shine in nine-year-old's eyes, his arms reaching out to help Dan onto the table where the younger boy leaned against the closed window. “They are further away than London!”

That made Dan giggle “Silly, even my grandmama lives further than that!”

Phil laughed to that, leaning on his elbows against the table and rested his chin in open palms while looking up on the faint twinkles in the sky.

======

“Hey honey, how was school?” His mother, soft as ever, asked when Dan dropped his bag next to the kitchen counter and pulled himself onto the seat.

“Phil doesn't talk to me,” Tears welled up in his eyes, though he squirmed trying to keep them from falling.

“Oh, Bear, I'm sure he was just busy,” His mum, wrapping her arms around the ten-year-old, hugged him close and assured.

Dan just sniffled in her apron.

======

“Hey nerd, what are you scribbling there again,” A shadows of a guy much taller than him hovered over Dan and he hunched over his notebook, trying to hide the words scratched on it in Dan's poor handwriting. He didn't want to let the bullies close to his work again, and he was just hoping that one of the teachers would step in to stop them from stealing his work again.

“Come on, don't tell me you've become a mute now, too,” He felt a shove, and was about to jump up and leave when someone grabbed his notebook, trying to pry it out of his grasp.

“That's mine!” He tried to sound angry but there were tears lining his voice and it only made the bully and the nearby friends laugh.

“Oi, leave him be, Gee,” A familiar, pleasant baritone, voice suddenly interrupted and instantly the laughter died down and Dan used the chance to pull the notebook out of Gee's hands, quickly stuffing it into his backpack that he then held close to his chest.

A familiar boy, much taller now than Dan, walked up to them, interrupting the circle of people that were trapping Dan to the cafeteria seat. Even more familiar hand settled on Dan's shoulder and he dared to look up through the long gangs of hair covering his face.

Phil was so tall, so grown up and so much more menacing than the rest, considering his height. Though he was quite scrawny while at it, there was enough authority in that stance to shoo away the offenders. “Forgot he was your bitch, Lester,” One of them sneered while leaving and Dan felt the grip on his shoulder tighten almost enough to hurt, but he bit his lip to not cry out.

“Are you alright?” Phil turned to him, when the bullies had disappeared from their sight, and Dan nodded, head hung low, avoiding to look the older boy in the eyes.

“Hey, come on, look at me,” Prompted by the words Dan looked up and was struck by that soft, wide smile that Phil was regarding him with.

“I'll make sure they don't bother you anymore, alright?”

He nodded.

Phil was so grown up, and so cooler, yet took time to look out for Dan, and it was quietly to himself that Dan was fearing the next year when Phil will be done with high school and Dan would be left alone.

“You want to come over today?” The offer was unexpected, and Dan blinked at the older boy, full of surprise “Mum's been asking about you, and I got a new documentary on space that I think you would enjoy!''

Everything about Dan wanted to be mean and refuse, to say that he didn't want to accept the pity. Why now after pretty much ignoring him for most of last four years?

Yet, what he found himself saying was the opposite.

“I'd love to.”

======

“This is amazing, Dan!” The exclamation made Dan flush a bright red and he looked away from the boy seated across him at the cafe.

“If you finish this, you could easily get published!” Phil went on and Dan brought the cup of coffee up to his face, partially to take a sip and partially to hide the beetroot redness of his cheeks.

“It's not that good...” He tried to interject but nearly spilled his coffee when Phil reached out to hold his hand up, halting Dan from speaking.

“I'm studying English and none of the works of anyone there have been as rich and vivid as yours. I mean it, finish this and you'll be swooped up by the best of publishers in no time!” And when Dan looked into those determined blue eyes, he believed it.

======

“Congratulations!!!” Dan grinned widely at his excited friend and threw his arms around Phil in return when the taller boy pulled him into an embrace.

“It's just high school, you spork, not that big of an achievement,” He was laughing but gladly leaned in when he felt his body squeezed gently in the hug. He pressed his face against Phil's shoulder and inhaled. The familiarity filled him with warmth and he only grinned more widely when they parted, Phil's hands still on Dan's shoulders.

“I hope you don't have any plans tonight,” Phil announced, but there was a questioning quality in the words and Dan just rolled his eyes at him.

“Yeah, like I'm the one to crave partying with my graduation class, getting wasted soooooo much.”

“Come on, Dan, this is the last time you'll see them all, I just want to make sure that I'm not taking that away from you,” It was so sincere that Dan's heart melted a little and any sarcasm that had formed on his lips vanished like cotton candy.

“What do I tell my parents, when should they expect me home?”

The way Phil grinned made Dan the happiest person even in the crowd of cheers.

======

“Can you believe that the universe is so huge?” Phil asked, his voice hushed as the two of them sat, pressed up close to each other under the blanket as they sat on the hood of the old car that Phil drove. The sky was clear for once, again, and so they settled in the small parking lot. Only the remains of a small bonfire were left, only stars and the crescent of the moon lighting up their world.

“We're so insignificant in the whole of the universe,” Dan murmured back, leaning his head on Phil's shoulder.

“But that's the brilliance of it, we brave on and achieve, though there's only so much that we can touch with our actions. Just look at our sun, it's so small in the grand scheme of things but it's given us the chance to live,” Phil's voice, though hushed was full of excitement and Dan closed his eyes, listening to it, allowing the pleasant timbre to run through the entirety of his being. Absentmindedly he reached out for Phil's hand and his heart was in flight when their fingers entwined in a perfect match.

“It's so beautiful,“ His lips formed the words, a realisation that they had been born through the vision of Phil and settled in Dan's soul “We exist, despite the odds and the meaninglessness.”

“It's beautiful,” Phil mirrored, and Dan felt a thumb run over his knuckles gently “To be able to exist at the same time.”

Silence settled between the two and Dan felt the little shift of the other man as if it was his own.

He felt eyes on himself, but didn't dare to open his, afraid that it would pull him out of the beauty of the moment.

“Dan,” It was spoken as softly as the most tender silk and he looked up finally, their eyes meeting. There was a question in Phil's and an answer in Dan's, and their hearts beat joyously when Phil leaned in, their lips brushing together lightly. It was a silent moment, and Dan let it sink in before leaning in again, warmth of mouths mixing together and breaths short and needy.

When they finally pulled apart, Dan leaned his head back on Phil's shoulder

Their fingers remained entwined comfortably.

======

“So tell us, what inspired you to write “Orion Nebula” series?” The interviewer questioned, while patting the back of Dan's third and final book of the series.

He leaned in to the microphone, the big headphones on his head bulky but he found comfort in the closed space interview at the radio; he'd never enjoyed the ones where he got filmed. He never knew what to do with his hands and would constantly fidget. Here, he was just a voice and he knew how to be a pleasant spokesperson “I have to give all the credit to my fiance, Phil, who has always encouraged me to keep writing and,” He looked down at his hand, where the engagement ring was shining shamelessly on his finger “Who has always nurtured my interest in the cosmos.”

“I heard about the engagement, congratulations,” The interviewer added and Dan nodded, a soft thank you returned.

“Now when can we expect the film adaptation of the series, I've heard that several studios have been interested in taking on the project.”

“Well...”

======

“He's in the hospital, Dan,” His heart was beating hard and his whole body felt numb, as he looked at his mother, but every word that came from her mouth felt like a foreign language “He got into an accident, and it doesn't look good.''

He swallowed and numbly brought the phone out of his pocket. He wanted to text Phil but after opening the conversation, he was left staring at the last few messages, where a simple ''good luck!'' remained as the last thing he'd received.

“Bring me to him?” Finally, he turned to his mum, and she nodded, her eyes red-rimmed but more than anything concerned by the peace that Dan was displaying.

======

“Forasmuch as it hath pleased Almighty God of his great mercy to take unto himself the soul of our dear brother here departed, we therefore commit his body to the ground; earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust--” The prayer continued but Dan could barely hear it.

His eyes were locked onto the casket as it was slowly covered in dirt, and with the body of his love, his heart was buried, too.

The accident had been fatal. It was in mere hours that the hope had been reduced to dust, blown away by the wind and departed with the soul of the one and only.

His hand shook as he released the handful of dark soil and the rattle against the wood were like tiny stabs to his torn heart. They fell, grain by grain, as needles against the bleeding wound, and with every each of them, his throat would close up more and more till it hurt too much to swallow and the tears silently fell from his eyes, no end to the currents.

“Farewell, my love,” He wanted to say, but the words never rolled off his lips, for he still wasn't willing to let him go. It was too soon, and it was not fair. He wanted to scream, and burrow under the soil as well.

He felt hands of his mother on his shoulders when he slunk down to his knees at the foot of the fresh grave.

======

“This is darker than your older series, but it is good,” His editor assured him and Dan merely nodded, sitting across the woman at her office, looking down at the manuscript of his newest book. It had taken a long time, far too long, in fact, but it was done and it was as good as he could make it.

Everything he had felt was poured into the pages, his blood pitch black ink and the roughness of the paper his calloused fingertips.

“I will have to run it by spell check and here are some notes of revision,” Dan accepted the printed manuscript, idly beginning to leave through it to see the red markings and the woman kept going on about how it could be published within a month if they would find satisfactory publishing contract quickly.

“Look at that, fourth book, isn't that wonderful,” He mumbled to himself when he returned home, and dropped the manuscript onto the table, the force scattering the notes that had been piled on the edge of the table, some of the papers falling onto the ground while others settled on the keyboard of his computer.

He paid them no mind.

A house was not a home, and though he was surrounded by everything one would want, he felt homeless and naked, thrown into the world mercilessly. A laughing stock of pity, a broken soul leaking through the cracks.

“Chinese food sounds nice,” He continued on talking, grabbing the menu advertisement from the coffee table and browsing it as he sat on the right side of the sofa, where the crease had become more prominent as the moths had bled into a year and more. Yet he never touched onto the left side. It was not his side, and though it was just him alone who owned the apartment, he felt the dual ownership still reigning over the place.

He didn't want it any other way.

“Isn't that strange that I can't seem to move on?” He asked to the empty space besides him as he flipped through the channels, nothing catching his attention “How is it that we're built to such insignificance yet we leave such huge marks still?”

With frustration of nothing interesting on, he dropped the remote, leaving a random tv show playing in the background as he picked up the food when it arrived. The two boxes stood on his counter and he looked down at them for a silent moment before grabbing one and leaving the other behind.

“I think you really would have liked this,” Dan eyed the manuscript across the room, sticking food into his mouth in between his words, his gaze absent, but if he tried hard enough, it felt like maybe he would hear him again. That maybe that calming baritone will suddenly ring in his ears and wake him up from life.

That maybe he would be released early too, so he could fulfil the promised forever finally.

======

“I know it's here,” He pushed the books around in the shelf, frustration building up in his chest cavity, as the year had bled into two, and third was coming around.

The sofa crease had grown. The fifth book freshly printed and placed next to the other four on his table was a reminder of the passing time. The clutter grew, but there were some things he never intended to get rid of.

“Where the hell did you put it?!” Dan cussed at himself, angling his body to reach behind the busy line of books to search for his old notebook.

“Huh?” His fingers touched a mushed, worn out back of a book, and curiosity got the best of him. Carefully, he pulled it out.

The paperback was worn, well-loved with how many times it had been read. The pages smelled of dust now, and had begun yellowing more, the little nicks and folds giving it years that it didn't truly have yet.

Gently, he ran the fingers over it.

It was the first release of his first book. And it was one of Phil's most treasured items. Dan remembered finding Phil with his nose buried into it over and over again and every time Dan would blush, and tell him off, mention how there's another part and how the first book was a lot more terribly written than the others.

Phil had always looked up with a bright smile and that same lively excitement as ever “I want to know it by heart, so when I make a movie of it, it's perfect!”

Film production had become Phil's passion, and so many dreams had been formed around it.

Dreams that never came to be.

Dreams that Dan had tried to keep alive and Phil's private, when he had turned down every offer of producing a film adaptation to Orion Nebula.

Slowly, Dan opened up the cover of the book, not sure what he wanted to find in it, and briefly seeing his own cheesy handwritten thank you note to Phil before a small envelope fell out from between the pages, landing next to Dan's feet.

He looked down at it, the blank envelope not disclosing its contents to him. It laid there, inviting him to pick it up.

Slowly, he kneeled, and picked it up, the book closed and stuffed under his arm as he looked at it for a while, his heart racing and fingers trembling as he turned it around. A single folded piece of paper was peeking out from it and for a moment he wanted to stick the envelope back into the book and hide it forever.

Yet, he allowed his fingers to reach out and tug out the paper. It was fine, like written for something special, and when Dan finally unfolded it, he gasped and sat down.

The messy handwriting was familiar still, and the way there was so much effort put into it made him remember the times Phil would sit just in this same room, hunched over his own idea notebooks, trying to figure out the best way to adapt a story into film.

“Dan,

I never thought that this day would come that I would truly be allowed to call you mine. Through years that passed, so many mistakes were made and at times I thought you were lost for me forever.

Yet here we stand, and you are mine just as much I am yours.

How rare and beautiful this alignment of the world is. How the universe has given me my existence at the same time with your own. How it may mean we will spend long nights just eating Chinese food and watching silly shows. How I get to see you create the most wondrous things in your stories. How you let me kiss you in the mornings though you are still grumpy with sleep.

How I have given the chance to love you through the rest of my lifeline.

I promise you, not just with this ring, but with every fibre of my being to love you till my last breath, and though our scepticism of afterlife is real, I know that the stardust we are made of will for the eternity be drawn to yours. I will forever be by your side even when it seems like I am not and I will love you beyond the existence of this eternity.

I know you don't like getting cheesy, and you know I dislike it as well, but just this once, let me express my deepest fondness for everything that makes you.

The sloppy kisses that I've been blessed to be on the receiving end of.

The messy curly hair when you really get into your work, when your beautiful mind is racing.

The lithe fingers that bring words into the existence.

That foul mouth that will find the most sarcastic comments yet I'll always know the true meaning behind them.

Those beautiful brown eyes in which I seek the love and wonder and always find it.

Your heart that beats in the rhythm of my own, and even if life is short and I may be gone soon, it will brave on like the stars themselves in the vast unknown.

Your soul that will expand with the lives you create and those you'll save, because to write miracles is to save so many.

Your being, that I will be forever thankful for, because I would not be who I am without you.

Daniel Howell, thank you for granting me this time with you, and know I'll cherish you forever.

I love you.”

A wet droplet landed on the paper and Dan quickly wiped it away, afraid that the salty tears would eat away the ink.

To brave on like the stars in the universe. He had promised to do that so many times, but never had thought about the time closing in so quickly that he would have to fulfil his promise.

“I love you too, Phil,” He murmured as he looked down at the wedding vows through bleary eyes.

A dull star, he was, but he had promised.

And to continue on he would.

[rebsrising]

Like My Mother Before Me

For Rebelcaptain Appreciate Week Day 2 - Comfort

Summary: “I’m older now than my mother ever was,” Jyn says, brows knit, the words sinking in, matching the feeling that’s been gnawing at her.  It’s a consequence of surviving the war. 

Words: 1609

Read it on ao3. 

Cassian’s not sure when Jyn managed to sneak off. He isn’t exactly surprised by it. She was never one for the center of a celebration, not even on her own birthday. She had come around to the idea of celebrating it more in the years since he and the others in Rogue One first marked the day.

Ever since then, she’s accepted it with appreciation, and a lot of eye rolling. It was different, he knew, now that she once again had loved ones to share in it.

Tonight was just a relaxed celebration of the people she would actually care to see collected in their home - a small gathering. Still, he hadn’t noticed her slip out of the room. The almost five years of peace had made him rusty, off his guard.

He finds her on the balcony, leaning against the railing and staring out towards the setting sun. She’s not hiding. Instead, he can see she’s lost in thought, her teeth chewing on her bottom lip.

She hears his footsteps, turns and smiles at him. Jyn knew it would only be a matter of time before Cassian found her. Though it did take him a little longer than she expected.

“You’re getting rusty, rebel,” she teases him. “What happened to the Alliance’s top intelligence agent?”

“He retired from the field,” Cassian responds, stepping towards her and winding an arm around her waist.  “Found himself a beautiful wife to settle down with, a life that doesn’t require constantly surveying his surroundings.”

“Sounds pretty nice, especially this wife,” she quirks her eyebrows up at him.

“It is,” he grins, and presses his lips to her forehead. Then he pulls away, leans his back against the railing to stare at her face and gives her a look.

He’s only going to let her stall for so long.

“You here to take me back to the party?” she asks.

“I’m here to see why you left.” he tells her. Not long at all.

“I just have a lot on my mind, I guess.” She frowns and looks away from him, out at the expanse of the city below. She tries to order her thoughts, put them in a way they can both understand. She’s not quite sure how to express what she’s been thinking, spurred on by her birthday and the news she just found out this afternoon. Cassian lets her take her time. The rest of the world is gone, the sounds of the party have faded. It’s just the two of them, Jyn pursing her lips as she tries to find the words, Cassian waiting patiently.

“I’m getting old,” she tells him finally, but that’s not quite right. His eyebrows shoot up, and one corner of his mouth tugs at the side.

“Ah yes 35, positively ancient,” he’s teasing her now, giving her a chance to laugh and move on, but his face is still open, questioning, willing to listen if she does want to talk.

She considers taking the out, but it’s Cassian, the one person she can always be vulnerable with, so she tries again.

“I’m older now than my mother ever was,” Jyn says, brows knit, the words sinking in, matching the feeling that’s been gnawing at her.

That he understands.

It’s a consequence of surviving the war. They’ve grown older when their parents never had the chance.

Jyn’s feelings about her mother, about all three of her parents for that matter, were still complicated. There was a part of her, a little girl sitting in the dark of a bunker, that had never quite forgiven them.

Lyra Erso had made a choice that day, a choice to turn from Jyn and run to her father. As she’d grown older, Jyn realized her mother hadn’t chosen against her. It wasn’t that simple. But it was a choice that left Jyn alone to face this world. A choice that ended her mother’s life and defined her own.

She knew her mother loved her, wanted to protect and guide her. The kyber crystal around her neck was constant proof of that. It was why she still wore it. But Jyn would always wish her mother would have made a different choice that day.

“I take after her,” she says wistfully, more to herself than Cassian. She doesn’t have a lot of memories left about her parents, but what she remembers most about her mother is her fire, her passion, often bordering on recklessness. And Jyn definitely has fire. Her faith, too. That’s something Jyn found later in life.

“I’m proud of that,” Jyn smiles, adamant. As much as she regrets the action, Jyn remembers the defiant look her mother gave Krennic and the shot she aimed at him with admiration.

Cassian hums in acknowledgement, but otherwise stays quiet, waiting for her to go on. He knows all this, of course. She’s shared it with him over the years. He’s heard Jyn’s stories of Lyra’s beliefs, of her dedication to her work and her fierceness. He’s seen Jyn’s own behavior reflect it everyday, from bold, sometimes reckless maneuvers in battle to her now constant trust in the Force.

Cassian, however, doesn’t realize how relevant it’s suddenly become.

“But sometimes it scares me, Cassian,” she admits to him. She stares at the ground, focusing on the tiny fractiles of the flooring as she grips the railing tightly. “I’m afraid I’ll make her mistakes, make the wrong choice without even realizing it.”

She finally lifts her head to him. Her eyes meet his, and they’re full of understanding.

“You are a lot like your mother Jyn,” he says softly. “But that doesn’t mean you’ll do everything as she did.”  

“But I do, or at least I have,” she mutters. “Sometimes I let my own passion, my hotheadedness guide my choices, focusing on the next few moments, without thinking about the greater outcome, and what it will mean for those around me. That was fine when it was just me. When my own survival was the only thing I had to worry about. But… but it’s not just me anymore.”

It hasn’t been for a while now, and she knows she’s grown in that time. But she wonders if it’s enough.

“That’s just it. You’re not alone Jyn. You have me, and Bodhi and Chirrut and Baze, and a whole family. You don’t have to make decisions alone, on impulse. I’ll always be with you,” he tells her. He says each word carefully, depth behind each one. His eyes stay locked on hers, making sure she understands him. It’s a promise, one he’s already delivered on time and time again. “And you’ve had a different life than your mother. You’ve had to live with the outcome of her choices, and your father’s. You know the effect, and it weighs heavily on you. You won’t make their mistakes Jyn. You, we, will make our own, but we’ll handle them together.”

She’s not sure if he knows it, but he’s managed to say exactly what she needs to hear. He always seems to, since the first time he welcomed her home.

Jyn takes a deep breath, lets her concern leave her body with it.

“You’re right,” she says, words she normally wouldn’t admit to anyone but him. “Thank you, Cassian.”

It’s all the comfort she needs, to be reminded that she doesn’t have to be perfect. And more importantly, that she won’t be alone.

Cassian tilts his head slightly, eyes narrowing, staring intensely at her. He’s trying to read her face, every inflection on it.

“Jyn,” her name is drawn out on his lips, a question in the word itself. “Why is this all coming up now?”

His words are light, a little breathless. His eyes widen. A part of his mind has already guessed the answer. Those intelligence skills aren’t as nearly as rusty as they thought.

She smiles at him then. For all her worries, this is a happy moment.

“I thought I might be for a few days now, and my appointment at the medcenter today confirmed it,” she told him. She takes a breath, teeth biting down on her bottom lip as her smile widens. “We’re having a child, Cassian.”

Jyn has had the great fortune of seeing Cassian Andor smile many times. She has been present, if not the reason, for most of the happiest moments in his life. But none of them compare to this.

His whole face glows as a grin bursts across it. He laughs, a breathless sounds as he grabs her hands in his.

“Really?” he asks her, an old instinct making him hesitate to accept such happy news.

“Really,” she smiles back at him, laughing now, his joy increasing her own.

He swoops her up in his arms. She feels his heartbeat steady against her own. It’s the two of them, holding tight to each other, as it has always been - on Scarif when they thought they faced death, on Jakku when they faced their future and now here as they face this.

Jyn knows her own strength. She knows she will never abandon this child that has already grabbed hold of her heart. And she knows Cassian’s strength too. She knows he’ll always make a home for them, always fight for them. Together they had helped make a galaxy where children would not lose their parents like they had. After years of taking lives by each other’s sides in the name of war and peace, now they had the chance to create it together, in the name of family and love.

Later they rejoin the party, with a whole new reason to celebrate.