#I realize now this may have meant my own take but I’ve never personally been one for mafia aus?
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~I Love You, I Trust You, I See You~
(Ao’nung x Fem! Deaf! Sully! Reader)
Summary: When the Sullys moved to Awa’atlu Ao’nung thought they were weird, knew they were weird. He took a particular hatred towards the older Sully kids, Neteyam was the perfect little follower, Lo’ak was constantly in trouble, Kiri was always off in her own world, and you. Just you. You seemed to always ignore him and never talk, but what he didn’t know was it’s because you couldn’t hear him.
Word count: 4.4k
Author’s note: This is the longest oneshot I’ve written at 4.4k words and 9 1/2 google docs pages… Sign language will be normal font, and bold & italics will be spoken, although I try my best to show which is going on.
~Masterlist~
I Love You, I Trust You, I See You
When people thought of the Sully family many thought of your siblings. They thought of Lo’ak who was always a troublemaker, causing chaos everywhere he went. They thought of Kiri who seemed so in tune with her surroundings that she might as well be Eywa herself. They thought of Tuk who was the youngest, still enamored by everyday life. They thought of Neteyam, a strong leader who would someday take on the role of Olo’eyktan after your father.
They never thought of you.
You who always seemed to be in your own little world. You who never had any friends. You who never talked. You who always seemed so attentive to the world around you, yet had no desire to join it.
When you were born after your twin Neteyam, a spike of fear had run through everyone in the room when you began to cry, but no sound came out. They feared you may not be breathing right, you may need your airways cleared. They feared something was wrong, and that was true.
When your parents or siblings thought about your family, they thought about you. They thought about how funny you were, always cracking jokes when there was a chance. They thought about how kind you were, taking a moment to check on everyone daily. They thought about how different you were than most.
They thought about you. You who couldn’t hear.
You always seemed to be in your own world, and that drew many away from you, they didn’t want to be friends with someone who they didn’t think was paying attention to them, and to be fair you weren’t paying attention to people most of the time. You preferred to direct your attention to the world around you, always keeping an eye out as you couldn’t hear danger coming.
When you had been caught by Quaritch and his men you had panicked, more than everyone else at least. You didn’t know what was going on, you didn’t know what they were saying, your lip reading was not dependable, and definitely not in english.
When your siblings arms were bound you couldn’t keep yourself calm, now you had no way of communicating, they couldn’t translate for you. Tears streamed down your face, eyes closed as tight as possible to try to calm yourself by blocking out the outside world.
When you felt your captor’s grip on your release your eyes shot open, looking around at the damage around you, multiple avatars dead on the ground. Then you ran, you ran faster than ever before in the first direction you saw.
You ran and ran, eyes trained on everything around you, and when you ran into someone and they grabbed you again it was like a shock. You let out a scream, the first noise anyone had ever heard you make. A noise nobody was aware you could make.
You turned to dead weight in an attempt to get out of their grasp, panic coursing through you again as your eyes couldn’t come into focus. However, the person dropped to the ground with you, pulling your face towards them and holding it still as you tried to thrash. Then they blew air into your face, and you realized you were safe.
When you were younger you would throw temper tantrums, as children do, where you would close your eyes to refuse to listen to your parents. Not being able to see them meant no sign language, which meant no having to listen to them. However your father found one thing always worked, blowing air on your face. Your eyes would shoot open, highly offended with your mouth dropped open, before you would sign at him, “Your breath is gross.” in retaliation.
You had never been more relieved for your dad’s stupid way of getting you to listen. Your eyes finally came into focus and you calmed down seeing his face, but that calm quickly turned into crying, sobbing. You couldn’t help but let out all of the pent up emotion inside of you, but eventually you calmed down and were able to stand back up, staggering your way home with the rest of your family.
Some time later when your parents had been arguing in your family kelku you hadn’t been paying attention as your siblings were, all huddled against the wall. You had been lost in your own world once again, not wanting to know what was being said as you were still processing what had happened earlier. You didn’t need anything on top of that as you feared it would make your careful stack of emotions you had constructed come tumbling down.
They had come tumbling down though as your parents announced you were moving, leaving. Leaving everything you had ever known, your home, your grandmother, the forest you loved so much. You couldn’t help it as you cried again, being held by your mother this time.
However as you thought about it you weren’t that sad. You had always liked the water, everyone not having to hear underwater made you feel more included, more like you belonged, and you had heard the Metkayina used sign language. Maybe this would be a chance to make friends for the first time in your life. Maybe you would be able to talk to people for once, nobody at home taking the time to learn American Sign Language, as your father had called it, like your family had.
One thing you hadn't taken into account was that they used a different version of sign language, but that had become very apparent when you first jumped into the water with Tsireya, Ao’nung, and Rotxo. They used signs you had never seen before, ones you didn’t recognize. You couldn’t help but feel a little beaten down at dinner, staying quieter than usual, not signing as much.
Afterwards your dad had asked you to step outside, waving a hand towards you as he exited the marui.
He sat down on the pathway, and you knew he expected you to join him, so you did. You sat next to him with your feet dangling in the water, looking out towards the horizon, refusing to look at him so you didn't have to have a conversation.
That didn’t last long though as he poked you in the arm, causing you to look at him offended, mouth open and eyebrows raised. He took this as his chance to speak, “You okay, kid?” He signed.
You sighed deeply, fidgeting with your hands before signing, “I’m okay, dad.”
You could tell he didn’t believe you, lips pressed together in a thin line and eyebrows furrowed, “You’re less talkative. What’s wrong?” He signed, proving he didn’t think you were telling the truth.
A frown came to your face, feeling like it was permanently there after the past few days or so, but you continued, “I’m disappointed.”
He raised his eyebrows, surprise and confusion on his face, “About what?”
You looked away from his face, instead choosing to watch his hands, you didn’t want to see the pity on his face, “We don’t speak the same language. I can’t communicate. Everyone else can at least talk to each other.”
His face softened, but you didn’t see it, “It’ll be okay. You’re a fast learner, so you will learn their language quickly, then you can make friends. If anyone actually wants to be your friend.” He meant it playfully, and you saw him laugh, so jammed your elbow in his ribs.
Then the conversation was over, your mom poking her head out of the doorway and saying something to your dad. He just stood up and gave you a look like he was asking, “You good?” and you nodded, “Yes.” back in return.
After your father’s words of encouragement you decided to work harder, learn faster, determined to be able to communicate with the people around you, and a few weeks later you were excelling whereas your siblings were still struggling. They were caught up on the differences of Metkayina sign language versus ASL but you had grasped that there weren’t differences, or similarities, and you would just be learning from scratch.
Even though you were doing well at it, working your way towards being fluent, you were worried about talking to the people, mostly because of one person in particular, Ao’nung. It was as if Ao'nung was determined to ruin your siblings' lives, and yours, but you didn’t know that.
You had seen Ao’nung’s attempts to cause hell for your siblings, nagging at them, laughing at them, and even trying to start fights, with Lo’ak in particular. Him messing with your siblings made you frustrated, but you weren’t aware of the taunts meant to make you upset, and laughing that was meant to make you feel like a target coming towards you from a distance.
The bullying towards your siblings had become more and more frustrating and you had begun showing your anger at home, being rougher with things than usual, and not wanting to go outside of the shared family marui.
It had been peaceful while you and your mom had been working on dinner, but she noticed you seemed to be far off, handling the food with rougher hands, “Are you okay, (Y/n).” Neytiri signed as you placed another fish over the fire.
You rolled your eyes at her, upset she was even insinuating something was wrong. In reality there was, but you didn’t want to admit that, “Yes mama, I’m fine.”
“Are you sure?” She had asked back, concern on her face as she looked at you closely.
You signed, “Yes.” Trying to end the conversation, but you knew she would just keep pushing.
You saw your mom think for a moment, her face scrunching up in concentration, “Well I am not.”
You frowned more, once again feeling like it had always been there since you left the forest, “Not what?”
She was frowning too now, “I’m not sure you’re fine. I see you isolating yourself. Even from me and your father.” She grabbed your hands, squeezing them gently to show her love in a little way.
Tears welled in your eyes, frustrated tears, tears that came because with all the stress recently they were the only way your brain knew how to process, to cope.
You pulled your hands from hers to wipe at them, “I’m sorry.” was all you could say.
She wiped the tears falling down your face before saying, “Why?”
You sniffled, running your hands down your face before signing, “I see Lo’ak, Kiri, and Neteyam being picked on, and there is nothing I can do. I can’t stand up to the bullies. I can’t say anything.”
“Okay, well soon you will be able to say something. You are learning their sign language, yes? I’ve heard from your siblings you are out working them.” She smiled at you and you could really see how proud of you she was.
You couldn’t help but crack a little smile although tears still threatened to fall, “Yes, mama. I’m getting better, but I’m worried it will be too late though.”
“I’m sure you will do your best, my ‘ite.” She thought for a second, “Why don’t you go try to talk to these kids tomorrow?”
You sighed, you didn’t want to, but you knew your mom would nag you until you agreed, “Okay. Love you.”
She smiled lovingly at you, “Love you too.” before pulling you into a hug.
When tomorrow came you didn’t even want to leave your marui, but you found the strength to do so. You did some of the breathing exercises Tsireya had taught you to try to calm your nerves, and they worked for the most part, steadying you and clearing your head.
However as soon as you stepped outside your marui you regretted it, not wanting to do what you had promised to your mother, but you knew you had to eventually. Eventually, which meant you could fool around as long as you wanted beforehand, and so you decided to settle down for a quick nap on the beach.
When you laid down and closed your eyes you quickly and easily fell asleep. You were still tired from last night when you struggled to sleep from your anxious thoughts.
When the Sullys moved to Awa’atlu Ao’nung thought they were weird, knew they were weird. He took a particular hatred towards the older Sully kids, Neteyam was the perfect little follower, Lo’ak was constantly in trouble, Kiri was always off in her own world, and you. Just you. You seemed to always ignore him and never talk, but what he didn’t know was that it's because you couldn’t hear him.
Ao’nung tried to not let anything get to him, especially when it came to people he didn’t like, like the Sullys, but for some reason you, (Y/n) Sully, had peeved him more than anyone or anything else. He had grown tired of you ignoring him when he shouted or laughed at you, like you didn’t even notice he was there, tired of you flat out avoiding him sometimes as you scurried away when he tried to approach you.
Of course he knew why, he had the same intentions to bully you and make you feel unwanted in Awa’atlu as your siblings. Of course you didn’t want this so you spent most of your time avoiding him, but for some reason instead of him not caring about it, it made him want to get under your skin even more.
When the sun rose today he decided today was the day to act. Today he would confront you head on, face to face. He would make you notice him, and he would make you feel awful in the process. So he gathered his friends, his goons, and they set off to find you.
They first checked with Tsireya who was with the rest of your siblings, but you were nowhere to be found, they all insisted they hadn’t seen you. Then they combed the beach, going from one end to the other, and on the far end they found you peacefully asleep on the soft sand.
He couldn’t help but notice how cute you looked asleep and peaceful, but he quickly shook it off, shouting at you, “Wake up, freak!”
He was targeting your extra finger and the hair above your eyebrows, like he had your siblings because he knew that got to them, and hoped it would do the same to you.
When you didn’t stir he tried shouting again, assuming you were awake, but trying to act asleep to avoid him, “What is wrong with you? Do you not care or are you stupid avoiding me?”
His friends laughed at you when you still didn’t move, eyes not cracking open and your breathing staying the same, so he took the next step, trying something physical. He kicked sand up and over you and finally you stirred, sitting straight up and looking around for the source of the sand, and when you saw him your heart dropped, a lump forming in your throat.
“There we go, now you are paying attention.” He snickered.
You tried to read his lips, but he spoke too fast, and you just stayed silent. You cocked your head to the side, eyebrows drawn together in a look of confusion.
You hesitated for a second, but were about to sign something when he spoke again. “Do you not speak? A silent freak, interesting.” You still didn’t understand exactly what he was saying, but his friends all laughed at you, and although you couldn’t hear it it made you feel small.
“I’m sorry. I can not hear you.” You signed, using Metkayina sign language this time.
He scoffed, “I do not believe that. I think you just don’t want us to bother you, but here we are.” He laughed in your face.
“Please use your hands.” You tried to communicate, but they just wouldn’t listen to you.
“No.” He sneered, this you understood, one single word.
Your mouth dropped open, offense written all over it. You knew he was disrespectful, didn’t care about others feelings, but you would make him care, “I can not hear. I am deaf.”
He was about to retort against you again, but when he had been searching for you earlier that day Neteyam knew he meant trouble, so when he found you he stayed in the shadows, watching, but now Ao’nung had taken it too far.
He surged forwards, anger consuming him, “Step off bro. She can’t hear you.”
“Yeah that is what she just said.” He rolled his eyes, “I do not care though, it is better if she can not hear me. Means I can make fun of her without her knowing.” He signed the last part so you could understand.
You shrunk back, standing to hide behind Neteyam. You tugged on his arm, “It’s okay.” You signed.
“It’s not okay, (Y/n).” He rubbed a hand down his face, turning to Ao’nung, “You need to leave her alone.”
“Whatever.” Ao’nung scoffed before turning and walking away.
Now he knew why you seemed to ignore him, you just didn’t know he was talking to you. You were probably avoiding him because you didn’t know their sign language yet. He felt bad for some reason. He usually wouldn’t feel bad about his bullying but with you it felt different now knowing this.
He couldn’t show his feelings though, worried about his little group making fun of him, but he slowly started to back off of you, and your siblings some as well. Whenever one of his “friends” would ask why, he would reply something like “We can not make fun of a cripple.” and roll his eyes, still a jab at you, but less so.
At some point you became all that consumed his thoughts, on his mind at all times, and whenever he would see you with his sister, or your siblings, he would feel the need to insert himself into the conversation, but he always refrained. He wanted to talk to you, to apologize, but he feared judgment from his “friends” who are just as nasty as he was.
Eventually he couldn’t hold it in anymore, heading to your marui to ask to talk with you, in the way you would understand. When he knocked on the doorway of the family home Lo’ak was the first to notice him, glaring at him and nudging Neteyam in the side, directing his attention towards Ao’nung.
Neteyam stood before either of his parents even noticed the boy in the doorway, stalking over to him and dragging him down the pathway so they could talk, “What do you want?” He hissed out.
Ao’nung cleared his throat, but the words still came out small, nervous, “I came to apologize to (Y/n)...”
“No.” Was all Neteyam said before turning away and starting to walk back into the Sully family’s home.
Ao’nung grabbed his arm before he got too far away, “Please. Please let me talk to her.” He begged, something he didn’t like to do, but it was necessary.
Neteyam sighed, “Fine, but if you do anything I will chop your head off myself.” He threatened the boy, “I’ll go get her.”
It wasn’t long before you stepped out of the marui, a frown on your face and hands he could see shaking, “What do you want?” You signed, hands shaking with nerves.
“I came to say sorry.” He started off, “I’m sorry for bullying you, and your siblings. I promise I won’t do it any more.”
“And?” You asked, knowing there was more.
He looked nervous now, hands shaking as he signed, “I wanted to extend the offer of friendship.”
You looked shocked now, “You want to be friends with me?”
He nodded his head, smiling shyly, “Yes. Absolutely.”
You smiled this time, relieved he would be leaving your siblings alone, and excited to learn more about him, about what he was really like under the bad boy shell, “Okay, friend.”
He just nodded at you, “I have to go now. See you at lessons with Tsireya tomorrow?”
“Of course.” You responded.
When you entered the marui again everyone's eyes were on you, a light blush on your face, “I made a friend.” You smiled.
You could see your parents cheering and clapping for you, but your siblings' faces were unsure, you would have to reassure them later but for now you were all having a family night, playing games and handing out things you had made for each other with the new resources you were getting used to using. They were clunky and awkward, but you would get better, it reminded you of something, of someone.
As days passed into weeks you and Ao’nung had grown closer, him pretty much taking over your lessons, stealing you away from Tsireya who was sad to see you go, but happy for her brother for making a friend, a real friend, not one of his goons that tended to hover around him at all times. You had seemingly broken down his bad boy aesthetic and his goons had since left him, moving onto another leader to follow, still as nasty as ever.
You were grateful for him letting his walls down around you, allowing you to see him, and soon you did. You saw him as more than you ever had before. You couldn’t help but think about courting him, of trading little handmade gifts, and sharing little intimate moments of happiness throughout the day.
It seemed as if he wanted the same as he began bringing you gifts, starting as a little armband he made from you out of hard to find shells he had spent many hours trying to find, then it moved onto necklaces and bracelets. Each was more intricate than the last.
When this started you began to bring him things too, poorly made things because using dried seaweed and palm leaves were different from the materials of the jungle, but you managed. Even though they weren’t the best quality he proudly wore them, gladly accepting every gift you would give.
Everyone had noticed by now, the traded jewelry, the touches that lingered a little too long, and the longing looks when you weren’t together. What baffled people most however was not Ao’nung’s seemingly peaceful side coming out, but the fact that neither of you had officially come out and asked if you were courting.
You were courting, you both knew that, but Ao’nung wanted to put it into words, he wanted to make it official, but he felt the need to fix a couple things first, to get a couple blessings.
So he went to the person he thought would be easiest first, your mom. She had seen you two from afar and already had talked to you about it, encouraging you to pursue him and get what you wanted. She had said she was not Tsahík, but Eywa had shown her signs. So when Ao’nung asked she immediately gave him her blessing, knowing this was something not just he wanted, but something you wanted too.
Then he went to your dad. He was a fierce warrior who commanded respect, and Ao’nung tried his best to be respectful, carefully wording his proposal of courting his daughter. Of course Jake had been hesitant at first, but eventually he caved after Ao’nung had mentioned he already had Neytiri’s blessing.
Finally he went to Neteyam, your twin brother, your best friend since birth. Neteyam was adamantly against it, wanting nothing to do with Ao’nung, and wanting his sister to have nothing to do with him either. He was still on the edge of forgiving Ao’nung, swaying over a cliff where falling meant forgiving Ao’nung for his wrong doings, and when Ao’nung explained his love for you, his intentions to never hurt you and treat you with the respect you deserve Neteyam fell over the cliff, giving the Metkayina boy his blessing.
Once he had gotten their blessings he had invited you to the beach where he had first intentionally seeked you out. You were hesitant to go back there with him, but you gave in, trusting him wholeheartedly.
You love him. You trust him. You see him.
When you got there he pulled you to sit down with him, you both facing each other, and he signed, letting his heart out, letting his feelings show, “I am sorry for any times I have hurt you. I was an ass and a fool, and I wish I had never caused you upset or harm. I am sorry for bullying your siblings too, they did not deserve it, but I was scared by the new people and what they would bring. I now see I should have helped like my sister. I should have been making you feel at home here, not doing the opposite.”
“It’s okay. We’re past that.” You reassured him.
He nodded, continuing, “Now I see how special you are. I see how much you’ve changed me and my views on life. I am grateful for the person you have shaped me into. I am grateful I got the chance to make it up to you. I want to court you. Officially.”
You felt your heart swell, butterflies in your stomach, and you were sure it was showing on your face, “I would love that.”
You moved your hands carefully to cup his face, holding it there as you looked into his eyes, hoping he understood how grateful you were for him too, then you pulled him in, lips brushing against each other before they fully made contact. It was magical, unlike anything you had felt before, and you were happy it was him making you feel this way. So happy, so loved.
When you pulled apart he smiled widely at you, grabbing your hands and giving them a gentle but tight squeeze before using them to say, “I see you. I see you.”
You sign your thoughts from earlier, “I love you, I trust you, I see you.”
He doesn’t say anything else, just smiles, and pulls you back in for another kiss, and you feel at peace. You know he is yours, and you are his. You know he will never leave you, and you will never leave him. You know he loves you, and you love him. You know he sees you, and you see him.
Word Bank:
Olo’eyktan (Clan leader)
Kelku (Omatikaya homes)
Metkayina (Ocean Na’vi)
Marui (Metkayina homes)
‘Ite (Daughter)
Awa’atlu (Metkayina village)
Tsahík (Spiritual leader)
Eywa (Na’vi Goddess)
#fanfic#fanfiction#avatar fanfiction#avatar the way of water#avatar movie#atwow#atwow fanfiction#atwow fics#sully family x reader#sully family#platonic sullys x reader#jake sully x daughter!reader#neytiri x daughter!reader#loak x sister!reader#lo’ak x sister!reader#neteyam x sister!reader#kiri x sister!reader#tuk x sister!reader#ao’nung x sully!reader#ao’nung x reader#aonung x reader#aonung x sully!reader#ao’nung
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𒅒 Pick a Reading: The Next Chapter 𒅒
(First post! Show some love ↓)
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1.
This group is certainly well acquainted with the *idea* of opulence, although I think most have yet to experience it or have it for your own. I think for most of you, it’s a dream that seems far too out of reach. The idea of it is nice, but when you look at your immediate surroundings, it seems too entirely impossible to manifest so that dream is cut short. There is also an energy of comparing yourselves to others, focusing on the things you don’t have. What you really want is stability, predictability, and security (and something to show for it as a bonus). When you take a look at your past and/or your present reality, I feel there is a sense of chaos, disorganization, and a “mess” to clean up. Whether this is a metaphorical mess or a physical one, you realize that this is a reflection of your inner state of being. This causes a lot of stress, and in turn, you become paralyzed. When you become paralyzed, nothing gets done and the mess becomes even harder to manage. I’m getting that those who chose this reading grew up in a situation that did not allow for free spending/financial flexibility. There is now a desire to curate that sense of flexibility for yourself. I’m hearing that there is a “creative block” for some of you who create/market something for a profit. When looking into the next chapter, I’m seeing that the dream is not as far out of reach as you may think. The problem lies in the fact that you are thinking TOO long-term right now when you should be focusing on the actionable steps that are already accessible to you in the moment. What is available to you in the next chapter is more than material stability, though. I’m seeing that the more you focus in on what is in alignment with you and your small-term goals, everything else falls into place. Not only am I seeing financial abundance, but a stable partner to share that abundance with. God is truly paving the way for your emotional, spiritual, and financial abundance. However, the message here is to persevere, accept the past, and move forward in a way that is not going “against the grain.” I’m hearing “move like water.” I feel that some of you are in a paralyzed, “stuck” state while the other half of you are trying TOO hard to force a square peg into a round hole. Regardless of where you’re at, allow things to come to you and focus only on what you can control. God will open the doors, all you have to do is walk through them.
Song: Popular Song- MIKA, Ariana Grande
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2.
My #2s are funny. I’m hearing someone say: “I’ve sworn off men.” (Same) Some of you are feeling like there’s no point in trying anymore. And honestly, you might be right. I only say this because I’m also hearing that what is meant for you will FIND YOU! There is really not much for you to do right now other than staying in your own lane and living your best life. However, this doesn’t mean that you should stay inside all day if that’s all you’ve been doing. Get out there, you never know what might happen. Some of you need to focus less on relationships/finding “the one” and focus more on your friendships. I’m seeing that for some, you might even meet a new person while hanging out with your friends. Whether you are actively looking for love or not, there is an energy of feeling so in your head that you can’t seem to get out of it. Even when you are doing your best to get out there/socialize, you feel super distant or like you’re trying to keep up with everyone else but you just don’t have the energy. In this next chapter, I’m seeing that you will find that cerebral energy transmuting into more action. I’m seeing a lot more mental clarity and you holding more space for love as a result. There is also a need for balance and trusting in your intuition. Yes, you should get out more, but you also need time to rest and to rejuvenate afterwards. Take care of yourself and you’ll have a better grasp on what’s to come. You’ll find that you have more energy to actually do the things you want to do for yourself. What’s funny is that this makes you SO attractive as a result. You won’t even notice it when love comes knocking on your door because you’re so focused on leveling up. A glo up is definitely in order, babes. Keep slaying.
Song: Save Your Tears- The Weeknd
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3.
First of all, if you’ve been feeling depressy lately or just emotionally all over the place, I am sending you nothing but light and love. I feel that this group is struggling to see the light at the end of the tunnel. This is a bit hard to explain, but some of you are almost afraid to see the light. You’ve become so familiar with keeping yourself in the dark that any kind of movement/change seems unbearable at times. While I do see change coming in, I feel that God is working with you at your own pace. I am getting very strongly that these changes will come to pass in a way that is digestible enough for you that while it will add to your growth, it’ll happen in a way that makes some actual sense to you. You’ve been living in this weird state of confusion and I’m getting that a lot of you tend to gaslight yourselves/doubt yourselves enough to feel like giving up completely. Some of you may be relying on certain coping mechanisms to get through the day. I’m mainly seeing someone sleeping a lot just to take a break from reality. The thing you need to understand is that what you’re going through is a kind of “initiation” for the next chapter. The things you are processing through now will serve as a guidebook for what is to come. If you feel hopeless in any aspect of your life, I am here to tell you that the pieces are falling into place. I feel that you just aren’t noticing it because you’ve been living with blinders on. For some of you, there is a need to connect more with your religious and/or spiritual side. I’m hearing: “I’ve lost my spark.” I feel that taking the time to pray/meditate while also balancing that with physical activities will really help you navigate through this particular period of time. As things move forward, I’m seeing you grow into an energy where you are more receptive to what life has to offer. There is a focus here on work/career/life purpose. If you’ve been feeling stuck in these aspects, I’m seeing that there is a need to collaborate and to connect with the people you work with/look up to for advice. I’m hearing: “It’s not what you know, it’s WHO you know.” Someone out there can offer you some real guidance and/or connect you to some great people/opportunities. For those of you lacking faith/hope in your situation, just remember that this too shall pass and opportunities are coming your way. Nourish yourselves, listen to your bodies, connect with God.
Song: The Blonde- TV Girl
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Like/comment if this resonates! Topic suggestions are always welcomed:)
(DM or email me: [email protected] for personal readings!)
#pac#pick a card#reading#tarot#tarot reading#pick a photo#pick a pile#pick a reading#spiritualguidance#spirituality
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Taylyn Oneshot
✨Sapphics✨
The group was having another one of their usual sleepovers. This was now almost an every night occurrence. In a strange way, everyone being together brought comfort to them all after the hellish night they would have just gone through. And tonight was no difference.
Everyone was panting and gulping nervously, trying to calm down and catch their breaths.
“Is everyone ok?” Taylor asked. “Anyone need some waters?”
“We’ll be fine..” Tyler said gruffly.
Taylor glanced over at Ashlyn, who was in the corner and already on her phone. Taylor gave the ginger a worried look and crawled over to her.
“You ok?” She asked as she sat in front of Ashlyn, sitting on her knees and fidgeting with her hands nervously. Taylor does this a lot around Ash. She’s pretty..
“Ya. Documenting everything that happened tonight, plus any supplies we may need to hide in the morning.”
“Always such a hard worker,” Taylor said with a tired smile. She couldn’t imagine doing all of what Ashlyn did. It worried her. Taylor hoped Ash was taking the time to actually take care of herself.
“Can’t afford to rest,” Ashlyn said gruffly.
Taylor gave her an anxious look upon hearing that. “Now Ashlyn, I’m sure we both know that’s not true!”
Taylor looked up from her phone and raised an eyebrow. Her green eyes bore into Taylor’s soul. But she wasn’t complaining.
Ashlyn set her phone face down on the floor. “What do you want to do, then?”
Taylor felt her face flush. She realized the room had gone quiet. Aiden and Tyler were in the kitchen and Ben and Logan were playing the game sticks on the other side of the room.
“I..” she stared at the freckled girl. “Maybe, um.. I can do some different hairstyles on you!” Taylor offered.
Ashlyn tilted her head. “Hairstyles?”
“Ya! I’ve never had any girl friends before. And Tyler’s always had short hair. So, um, I’ve never gotten to play with anyone’s hair before.
Ashlyn gave Taylor a look that made her feel like she had just recommended the most stupidest of ideas in the history of the universe.
But, eventually, Ashlyn sighed. “Maybe that would be nice.. help me get my mind off of..” she softly gripped her wrist. In the nightmare world, a phantom had managed to grab Ashlyn’s wrist.
No wonder she’s so stressed Taylor thought.
Taylor reached into her pajama pants pockets and pulled out a ponytail.
Ashlyn turned her back to Taylor and Taylor ran her fingertips through the ginger’s long hair. Taylor always admired Ashlyn’s hair. How long it is, how silly it is, how graceful it is.. the complete opposite of her own, always grimy and oily from mechanics club and short, but never looked the way she wanted it to..
She tried out a couple of hairstyles on Ashlyn, the two laughing a bit as they exchanged jokes and secrets.
“Tyler is a moron,” Ashlyn said with a blunt, yet playful tone. “How do you deal with him?”
Taylor laughed. “You kinda have to when he’s your twin!”
Eventually Taylor finished, letting Ashlyn’s hair fall back down to her shoulders like an angel settling its wings.
Ashlyn’s shoulders had relaxed quite a bit over the 30 minutes the girls had been chatting. She seemed.. happy.. and that made Taylor’s heart do backflips.
“That was.. kind of fun. Maybe having friends isn’t too bad,” Ashlyn said, making Taylor smile like an idiot.
“Ya, well, sometimes you’ve just gotta give people a chance!”
Ashlyn turned, the corner of her mouth curved into a slight smile. “Hm.. maybe. Or maybe you’re actually bearable.”
If it were anyone else, this would’ve sounded like a backhanded compliment. But Taylor knew that’s not what Ashlyn meant. In fact, it was rather high praise.
“Ya, well.. “ she was hand fidgeting again. “I like hanging out with you a lot..”
Ash tilted her head again. Taylor loved when she did that. It was always so cute.
“You’re really interesting. And your personality.. well, it helps me calm myself down. It’s so quiet and peaceful around you..”
Ashlyn looked rather surprised and Taylor immediately regretting her words. She can’t just go around d saying stuff like that!
She felt her face turn into a cherry and she quickly turned away. “What I’m trying to say is I think you’re really cool and reliable! And I appreciate you immensely for all you do!”
She could still feel Ashlyn’s eyes staring right through her, as if she were an open book. And she probably was. Taylor was so bad at hiding her feelings. She always wore her heart on her sleeve.
“Taylor..”
Ashlyn’s voice brought her back to reality and she looked up at Ashlyn, who was looking at her like a lioness. Beautiful, proud, and powerful.
“Yes..?” Taylor whispered. What was this look Ashlyn was giving her? Why did it make her feel like an overheating pipe? Like a robot’s hardwire malfunctioning? Like.. like..
Like a lovesick idiot?
Ashlyn was about to say something before Aiden and Tyler burst back in, Aiden chasing Tyler. “Tickle, tickle, tickle!”
“GET AWAY FROM ME!” Tyler yelled, throwing a blanket at him.
Ben and Logan look up in shock and get up to try and separate the two.
“I..I should go take care of my brother..”
Ashlyn sighed. “Ya. And I’ve gotta get Aiden to calm the fuck down, too.”
Ashlyn got up and went over to scold Aiden.
Taylor watched her, desperately wishing to call her back. To ask her what she was going to say..
But no words came out. Taylor looked down sadly before getting up to help her brother out.
She always wondered.. when would it be her day to have a great love story? Or maybe she watches too many romance movies…
Then again, none of those movies were like her. A girl desperately pining for the girl with freckles and red hair and emotionally distant attitude and the cute mannerisms and.. and..
“Taylor, why are you red?” Tyler asked.
“I think I’m malfunctioning..”
Divider by @cafekitsune
#School bus graveyard#sbg#webtoon#ashlyn banner#taylor hernandez#taylyn#Oneshot#fanfic#Ashlyn x taylor#Taylor x ashlyn#Sapphic
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The Fall — Connor x gn! demi! reader
summery: Connor asks a personal question which leads to reader explaining their sexual orientation. Which ends up in a confession and fluffiness.
tw: anxiety attack, mentions of being invalidated
a/n: Super self indulgent. I may be aroace but I will live in this fantasy as long as I want.
wc: 1.5k
Master List
I felt frustrated. Oh so frustrated. I typically would spend my spare time reading. No, not reading novels or books like I probably should. It was kind of embarrassing to admit, but yes. I read fanfic. It’s not a crime, okay. But recently, I couldn’t pay attention to it, my mind drifting off to someone else instead. Every time too. I would be reading about my favorite characters and then think about him instead. Which led me to stare at my phone when I had free time and come up with scenarios that would potentially befall us. Not only did it waste my phone battery, but it also makes me look dumb just staring at nothing.
I found myself in a similar situation at the moment. The t.v. droned on, some video or show, I wasn’t completely sure. I let out a small huff, tossing my phone gently onto my stomach. I turned my gaze to Connor, who happened to already be staring at me.
Connor invited me out to Hank's house today. Just to hang out. I accepted, deeming that I need to socialize with people more…and maybe because that meant I could hang out with Connor. Hank was off who knows where, telling Sumo to watch over us. Which led us to sit on the couch and watch something. I was curled into one side of the couch, a light blanket keeping me warm.
“May I ask a personal question?” Connor asked, head tilting to the side in that cute puppy-like manner.
“Shoot,” I replied, putting my full attention on him.
“Have you ever been in a romantic relationship?” He asked, curious brown eyes boring into me.
A range of emotions washed over me. Nervousness as to the implications this could mean, but also nervousness to what I was going to have to explain. I’m demiromantic, which meant that I had to get to know a person real well before even thinking about entering a romantic relationship with them. But I never really liked anyone like that for years…until now.
Which meant that I had little to no experience when it came to dating. And I honestly believed that it would stay that way. Which I didn’t mind, don’t get me wrong. I was content on my own with my pets…but I always wanted something more with someone. To be special to someone. Which led me to reading fanfic.
“No,” I replied hesitantly.
Connor’s brows furrowed, a slight frown settled on his lips, “I don’t understand.”
I frowned in confusion as well, “What don’t you get?” His stare moved back to me and it was intense, some feeling I couldn’t put my finger on was swimming through his eyes.
“How someone as amazing as you haven’t found anyone yet,” Connor stated.
I felt my heart rate accelerate and I tried to hide how flustered that statement made me, but I also knew he could scan me and find out without me even realizing. How could he say something like that so unabashed? He thinks I’m amazing? Does that mean he admires me? God, the thought alone made me feel all warm and fuzzy.
“It’s…hard to explain,” I shrugged, looking towards the t.v. only to notice it was shut off. Connor stayed silent, eyes pleading for me to continue. I let out a small sigh, ready to fall into the usual spiel, “I’m demiromantic. I need to get to know someone real well before even thinking about anything more than friends, and the people I start to like never really saw me as anything more than a friend so I’ve never dated or anything.”
“How long does it take for you to gain these romantic interests? If I may ask,” Connor asked, his body moving closer in curiosity.
Once again I just shrugged, trying to not think about how surprisingly quick I found myself falling for the handsome android sitting next to me. It still took longer than what the media portrays, at least a month, but that was quick for me.
“It depends,” I finally answered. “I haven’t been interested in many people, I could probably count the amount on one hand.” I let out a small chuckle at the thought. “Why do you ask?”
My eyes were drawn to Connor’s led as it spun yellow. It even blinked red for a second and I grew concerned. Did…was he going to invalidate me somehow? Tell me I’m just trying to label myself and that what I felt was normal? It’s happened more than I’d like to think, but I trusted Connor, so if he said anything like that I wasn’t sure what I’d do.
“I don’t wish to make you uncomfortable,” Connor finally managed to speak out. I moved to sit more upright, scooting closer to him. I gently placed a hand on his shoulder, and he seemed to relax a bit under me, the artificial muscles moving under my hand.
“I trust you, Connor,” I spoke up. “I know if something comes out wrong you don’t mean it in a bad way.”
“That’s not,” Connor huffed, shaking his head. My eyes fell onto that small piece of hair on his forehead, but I ignored the urge to push it back into place. His led once again blipped red before settling on yellow. “You produce these feelings inside of me, things I haven’t felt around anyone else. Hank has made some comments…and I believe this feeling is love, or strong attraction at the very least, but with this newfound information…”
Connor’s concerned, fearful look along with all the words he just spoke put my brain in overdrive. What? He…no. No…I…do I like him like that? I mean, yes I’m attracted to him, and yes, the idea of being in a relationship with him makes my heart pound faster.
I pulled my hand away from him, scooting away slightly. I clenched my fists against my knees, staring down at the carpet floor like it would give me all the answers. I barely recognized his honeyed voice call my name in concern. I didn’t notice how his led settled on a deep red. I was too wrapped up in my own feelings, suddenly overwhelmed by everything.
Scared, I was scared. Isn’t this what I wanted? Someone to like me? But was I in love with the idea of that? Or did I actually like Connor? I don’t want to start a relationship with the wrong intentions. Connor doesn’t deserve to be hurt. But I really really like him. Yeah, I like him. As a person. I like spending time with him. I like talking with him, I like helping him with his still newfound deviancy.
Oh god, what if he only liked me because I was the first person to be kind to him? No, no it’s not my place to question his feelings. It’s all new to him as well. This is new to both of us…the thought alone made me relax a bit. I took a deep breath, and then another. Would it hurt to just try out a relationship? It’s Connor after all, and if it doesn’t work I don’t think it’d end too terribly…
With one last deep breath, I opened my eyes, feeling a lot calmer than I did a few seconds ago. I felt guilty as Connor fidgeted with his quarter, led bright red, eyes searching for something in mine.
“Sorry,” I apologized nervously. “I…just got a bit overwhelmed.” Connor looked scared, he opened his mouth, but closed it. He seemed afraid he’d say something wrong.
“Like I said, I’ve never been in a romantic relationship,” I explained. “And…I guess I kinda thought I’d never get a chance. So you saying that you…” The word felt heavy as it sat on my tongue. “...are strongly attracted to me…I guess it kinda scared me. I’ve never dealt with this before, and didn’t think I’d have to. Not that it’s bad or anything! Because I like you too, I’m just…scared.”
Connors led spun yellow, processing what I had just said. Finally it settled on a serene blue, his face morphed from fear, to relief, to settling on pure joy.
“I also don’t have experience in this field,” Connor replied. “I was built with a social programme, but it didn’t include anything to do with romantic human relations. I would like to learn with you.”
Heat simmered through me, heart beating faster and I felt inexplicably happy. So happy, I had no idea what to do with this newfound energy bursting through me. I stared at Connor, his cute freckles, deep brown eyes, perfect eyebrows, full lips, to that damned piece of hair still out of place. It was hard to believe someone who looked so perfect would want to be with me.
Trying to calm myself from doing something I’d regret, I lifted my hand up and brushed that piece of hair up and into place. Connor closed his eyes, tilting his head closer to my hand. I couldn’t help but marvel at how soft his hair felt.
Continuing to brush his hair gently, I finally replied, “I wouldn’t want to learn with anyone else.”
Connor opened his eyes, his smile seeming to split at the seams. My heartrate spiked once more as I finally could put a word to the look in his eyes when he looked at me. Love.
#dbh connor x reader#connor dbh x reader#dbh x reader#dbh#detroit become human#rk800 x reader#rk800#detroit become human x reader#x reader#dbh connor#connor dbh
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Trans Man Noah Diaz
The first time I saw Rise of the Beasts, I read Noah as a Trans Man, and that headcanon just solidified after my second viewing.
I’ll get the heavy reasons out of the way first, and work down to the most silly ones.
The section that was here before has been removed, because I was overstepping and someone rightly called me out on it. However. I’m not going to lie and pretend I didn’t do what I did. I deleted the comment that called me out because it made me feel bad, I panicked, and deleted it to save my own ego. It was wrong, it was cowardly, it was fucked up, and I shouldn’t have done it.
I truly am sorry, and have spent the last day sitting with myself until I stopped trying to excuse my behavior and just acknowledged what I did. I am not asking for forgiveness, I can only try going forward to be the kind of person deserving of it.
For now, I’m taking a break from this blog, leaving it on a queue, and I won’t be posting here for a while. Even though that isn’t the kind of person I want to be, I need to reckon with the fact that that is the kind of person I am. I’m sorry, once again.
1994 was also the year Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell was put into place, which, for those too young to remember, was basically a policy allowing queer and trans people to serve in the military so long as they remained closeted, and prohibited superiors from forcibly outing them. Given that we’re never actually told in the film why Noah was discharged, it’s not unreasonable to think that it may have been because he got found out as trans.
The part that’s particularly personal for me is his relationship with Kris. I’ve also got a little brother that’s quite a bit younger than me, and I acted as an extra parent to him, practically raised him since we were both latchkey kids, and yeah, there’s no doubt in my mind that I’d face the apocalypse head on if it meant keeping him safe. All that to say, it’s comforting to think that Noah’s identity as a man is inseparable from his identity as a Big Brother, the way it is for me.
Most of my other reasons are less serious:
Noah wears a lot of layers and baggy clothes on his upper half, which yes, was part of 90s fashion, but it’s also how I dressed for most of my life, even before I realized I was trans.
Noah is also non-toxically masculine in a way that’s not unheard of but also not as common for men, especially service members, of that time period. Again, there may very well be a cultural component I’m missing here, let me know if there is, but this is just something I related to as a Guy Who Wasn’t Raised As One.
This last one’s kinda silly, but I’m a Car Guy, and one of the most gender euphoria inducing things I can do is work on my car. There’s few things that make me feel like Man quite like sweat on my brow and grease on my hands and a purring engine from a job well done. So for Noah to not only be a tech wiz but specifically a Mechanic? That was the thing that really sold me on this headcanon. (And that’s not even getting into the very fun implications of Noah being the one to repair Mirage, to get to know him so intimately, literally inside and out. Very nice.)
(I also love the idea that rather than being weirded out or taken aback at first like he is in some fics, Noah would be kinda weirdly affirmed to find out that not only does Mirage have some of roughly the same *equipment* while still being treated as and being a Mech, but his setup is the norm for Cybertronians. I can so picture Noah anxiously telling Mirage about his situation when they finally get together only for Mirage to be like “you mean other human mechs don’t have a 🐈??? Like, most humans only have one or the other?????”)
#Transformers#Noah Diaz#Trans Man Noah Diaz#Noah/Mirage#Rise of the Beasts#Miroah#TF: RotB#Transformers Rise of the Beasts#Mirage#trans headcanon#also in researching this i was reminded of the existence of Pedro & Me#it's a really good graphic novel by Judd Winick about his friend Pedro Zamora#they appeared on the 1994 season of MTV's The Real World#Pedro was the first positive depiction a lot of Americans got of an HIV+ gay man#he unfortunately died late that same year#sorry for rambling comic books are one of my special interests#anyway it's a good book you should read it if you can
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Bound, Part 16
Previous part
Tim watched Marinette warily out of the corner of his eyes. She hadn’t done anything since their first kiss, seemed content so long as she was allowed to hang off of his arm, but he couldn’t bring himself to trust that – not entirely, at least. Not when she was looking up at him through her lashes, as if he had personally hung the moon and the stars and she would do anything at all to thank him. Not when he was so tempted to simply let her, and a single moment where he was caught off-guard might just doom them both.
Admittedly, though, remaining concentrated on the here and now was making it very difficult to think about what to do moving forward.
He hesitated, before looking at Marinette full-on. Her eyes lit up the moment she realized she had his full attention… lit up, literally, in that they gained a new, faintly silver sheen.
He swallowed thickly. “Hey, I’m really in the mood for a coffee, but I’ve got to work… can you go get me some?”
She blinked, and some of her smile died in favor of a mildly concerned expression. “Coffee? This late at night? You won’t be able to sleep.”
“That’s alright. I have a bunch of stuff I need to do anyways.”
She looked somewhat unconvinced, biting her lip thoughtfully, but then she was smiling again. “Fine, but I deserve a kiss, I think.”
“For helping me do something that’s bad for my health?”
“Because I’m going through soooo much effort to get you what you want,” she corrected lightly, and he could almost see the old her poking through for just a moment, but it was only a moment. “So?”
He considered this, trying to ignore the pleading look in her eyes, the glassy sheen making her look like she was about to cry. “Only on the forehead,” he said. She could turn her head if he went for the nose or cheek, but he would be able to react in time to prevent being tricked if he opted for something that far away from her mouth.
She seemed sated regardless, beaming as she finally let go of his arm. “Deal! No takebacks!”
He watched her leave, something warm threatening to bloom in his chest.
And then his lips curled into a scowl. He stared at the deep lines etched into the skin of his wrists. It was annoying enough, being unable to tell his own thoughts from the ones that Fate had decided for him, watching Marinette give in to it all and seem so happy in a way that he never had been before, knowing that all of their attempts would likely end in nothing… but he couldn’t even fight back. He couldn’t even see the String that was controlling him. Had he been able to, trying to tear it out would only end in pain, and he was scared of finding out just how deep the String would dig into his skin, how it would retaliate.
He was helpless.
He gritted his teeth and started looking into pet stores in the local area. In The Odyssey, Odysseus managed to pierce the veil between life and death with a sacrifice. Tim was willing to take a page out of his book, if that meant that he could get to the end of his own story – whatever that may be.
~
Marinette hummed as she made her way through town, holding two cups of coffee. Neither were for her, of course (why would they be?). She had simply decided that she might as well get extra, since Tim had said he had ‘a bunch of stuff to do’, and implied he wouldn’t be getting much sleep that night, so she had thought ahead and gotten him a second one for after he finished the first.
Maybe she would get a second kiss! Or or or a better kiss!
She was so lost in her fantasies of romance that she almost missed the man in the alleyway. Probably would have missed him, had he not coughed lightly to grab her attention.
She looked over and sent a brief, slightly nervous smile before immediately speeding up.
She walked for about a block before she dared to glance back, only to find that she had lost track of him.
She bumped into someone, and nearly screamed, immediately jerking backwards. Hands caught her by the wrists, and this time she did scream.
No one seemed to notice.
Marinette swallowed thickly. Slowly, she turned her head again to look at him.
He was not tall by any means, but was still tall enough to look down his nose at her as she squirmed, twisting her arms this way and that to try and loosen his grip. Despite his frame, she couldn’t seem to get out.
Alarms blared in the back of her mind, but she couldn’t pinpoint why.
There was nothing particularly interesting about the way he looked, he was utterly average in every possible way. Neutral clothing, a classic hairstyle, a face without a single freckle or mole to distinguish him by. If he wasn’t currently keeping her from leaving, she would have done so without ever giving him a second thought again. She still might, his eyes were hard to look at head-on, and something about the exact features of his face were hard to recall even as she actively stared at him.
“Let me go,” she said, her gaze flicking downwards. Maybe she should just kneecap the guy and run. The coffee was going to go cold at this rate.
“Is that any way to address a God?”
Her head jerked right back up to look at him. “A God?”
The alarms in the back of her head picked up, screaming in utter terror at the prospect of a God taking an interest in her.
Why was she so scared, though?
Probably because Greek Gods didn’t have the best reputation.
Still, with a guy this plain, she couldn’t just take his word for it, could she? Artemis had been utterly otherworldly, this was just a Guy.
Wait, when had she seen Artemis? Why did she know what she looked like?
He chuckled. “Take your time, I know I’m quite the sight to behold, Marinette.”
Marinette was almost tempted to inform him that that was not at all the reason for her silence, but then she decided against it. The fact that he knew her name without her having to introduce herself suggested that he was who he said he was.
“Thank you for your kindness…” she trailed off.
Who was this?
She looked him up and down again, and her eyes narrowed in on his shoes. They looked to be sneakers, at first glance, but now that she was looking closer she noticed that there was a design on them. Wings were painted onto the fabric.
That was important, but what did it mean?
Why did her head feel so… empty of all the things that were supposed to be there?
“Lord Hermes,” he said, apparently taking pity on her… or, at least, tiring of waiting.
“Hermes,” she said, smiling gratefully.
“Please, call me Lord,” he said, smiling in a way that he probably thought was charming. She only saw it as smug.
Though, to be fair, it would be hard for him to charm her, when her heart already belonged to Tim.
She nodded, tipping her head forward just slightly in a bow. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your presence, Lord?”
He let go of her, and she pretended not to notice the dull sting of bruises forming on her wrists. The skin was marred by angry red divots that reminded her of the lines in Tim’s wrists, and she couldn’t help but smile at the thought of them matching.
“Walk with me?” he asked. “I am the god of travel, after all.”
She nodded easily enough, though something was itching at the back of her mind.
Hermes was the god of a lot of things, wasn’t he? A jack of all trades type?
She felt that that was important. Why, though? What did he rule over, and why was she supposed to care?
She fell into step beside him, frowning at the ground. Trying to parse through her brain was like chasing a rabbit through the woods – no matter how hard she tried, the rabbit was so much faster than her, and it was determined not to let her catch it. The information was there, of that she was sure, but she couldn’t get to it.
“You know,” Hermes said, smiling. “I’m a god of boundaries. It is my job to help guide souls to the afterlife.”
She nodded along.
And then she jolted.
The afterlife.
Tim wanted to go to the Underworld, right?
She lit up. “Can you get Tim and me to the Underworld?”
He didn’t seem surprised in the slightest by his request, though she doubted that he got it often. He continued to smile that perfect smile of his. He looked like a businessman, she thought absently. Maybe that was another thing he had dominion over.
“I can,” he said easily enough.
She beamed.
“But, nothing is free.”
“Anything,” she agreed easily enough. She would do anything if it meant making Tim happy.
His smile turned sharp. “I want to sever your bond with your soulmate.”
Her footsteps stopped cold.
“No.”
Laughter echoed in her ears. It belonged to a woman, but it wasn’t her own.
It set her on edge. Why was she so amused? What was Marinette missing?
Hermes seemed just as pleased by this development. His grin stretched wider. Too wide to fit properly on his face. “‘No’?” he repeated.
“He’s – I’m – no, Lord, I can’t.”
“I thought you would do anything,” he teased, leaning towards her, until their faces almost touched.
“Anything but that,” she said, backing away quickly.
He tipped his head back in a laugh. “Aw, but you won’t even have to do anything. I’ll be the one tearing you apart, you don’t have to lift a pretty little finger.”
“I – I appreciate the offer, Lord, but I will have to pass. Respectfully, we can find another way into the Underworld, but there is no guarantee that our String can be tied back together.”
His laughter petered off, but he seemed no less delighted as he nodded. “I suppose you can’t win them all.”
She nodded her agreement. “Thank you for coming to help me, even if your plans fell through.”
And then Marinette held a coffee out for him.
He stared for a moment, his smile faltering. “This…”
“You’re supposed to give Greek gods offerings, aren’t you?” she said, tilting her head to the side, just as confused as she thought he was.
“We… don’t typically get offerings anymore.”
She wasn’t deterred, continuing to hold it out for him to take. “Then it’s a gift. I have an extra, anyways, so I might as well.”
Slowly, warily, as if he half-expected the cup to be poisoned, he took it from her.
She smiled at him, lifting her now-free hand up in a wave as she headed off again. “Goodbye, Lord.”
“Hermes,” he said, softly, too quietly for her to hear.
She glanced back. She had expected him to be gone again, but he was still standing there, looking at her with an expression she couldn’t quite place. She would think it was guilt but (she was not sure Gods could even feel guilt) what reason would he have to feel guilty?
“Er, sorry, I didn’t catch that?”
He shook his head just slightly, matching her smile inch by inch. “I said that you should tell Tim that it won’t work – Odysseus only managed to commune with spirits.”
She gave him a mildly confused look, but nodded and committed the message to memory regardless.
~
Tim and Marinette stood on the dock, smiling and nodding along dutifully as the man whose boat they were renting explained how it worked.
Neither of them were actually paying attention, though.
Tim already knew, more or less, how to navigate on this type of boat – it wasn’t too dissimilar from the one Bruce, in his infinite paranoia, had once taught him to use. It was a slightly newer model, but not enough so that Tim no longer knew how to drive it. All of the new features were luxury features, anyway, and they were not traveling along Cape Matapan for fun.
Marinette on the other hand was, as always, too busy staring at her soulmate with a lovestruck expression. At least it made their cover of being a couple on a romantic outing more believable.
Finally, the man ended his speech, and Tim sent him one brief smile, shouldering his bag.
“Thank you so much for letting us use your boat on short notice, sir,” Tim said.
The man waved him off, smiling genially. “That stack of money was thanks enough. You two have fun, yeah?”
Tim gave a two-finger salute. “I’ll try my best.”
He stepped onboard carefully, and then turned to offer his hand to help Marinette on, too. She stumbled slightly, crashing face-first into his chest. He didn’t know for sure whether the slight rocking of the boat had actually thrown her off, or if she had simply seen an opportunity to be close to him and taken it, but she was quick to wrap her arms around him regardless.
The man chuckled and lifted a hand in a lazy wave as he walked away.
Tim gave a sigh, looking down at Marinette. It didn’t look like she intended on letting go anytime soon.
“Can you do something for me?” he asked.
She nodded instantly, drawing back to look at him with wide eyes.
“I can’t see magic, so I need you to look for a cavern.”
She nodded dutifully, and rushed to take a seat at the front of the boat, leaning over the railing precariously as she scanned the shoreline.
He almost felt guilty for using her like that, but it was the only want to get her back to normal.
(Or, at least, that was what he hoped. He wasn’t sure what he would do if they cut the String and she remained enchanted.)
He sighed as he took a seat behind the wheel and they were off.
It was a nice day. It was a little on the hot side, but the salty sea spray and a gentle breeze made it far more tolerable. The slight rocking of the boat was peaceful. If he didn’t have a mission to complete, he thought that he might have been happy to lay down beside Marinette on the cushions and laze in the sun.
Maybe they could do that on the way back.
Now, though, they had a mission.
Marinette straightened abruptly, her eyes locked on the tree line. For a moment, her eyes were clearer than they had been in what had felt like forever.
“Marinette?”
“It’s there,” she said. Absently, she waved to someone – or, perhaps, something – Tim couldn’t see. “That’s the Ferryman.”
And he trusted her.
So, he turned the wheel and started heading in the direction she was looking.
~~~
Next part
@laurcad123
#bound#maribat#timari#timinette#i feel you#timmari#marinette dupain cheng#ladybug#red robin#tim drake#hermes was like imma mess with the human artemis cursed#and then the human was nice to him#poor guy#now how is he supposed to be evil in peace
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Darcy & Wickham backstory headcanon (1/?)
PART ONE, in which Mr Darcy (senior) meant well, but
I’ve always thought this quote from Elizabeth, about Wickham and Darcy, is really interesting:
“There certainly was some great mismanagement in the education of those two young men. One has got all the goodness, and the other all the appearance of it.”
Jane argues that this isn’t wholly accurate or just. Darcy did not ever seem devoid of goodness to her. But because the dialogue moves on without narrative comment, it’s not clear whether we should interpret this as Jane being Jane, or as a suggestion that Elizabeth has never really been fair to Darcy (which is how she takes it), or as something else.
The point about education is intriguing, though, given that this is a novel deeply concerned with the education of young people and parental failures, and that Darcy does end up attributing his flaws to his parents’ influences, but with very careful phrasing to avoid really blaming them for anything in particular, and no mention of Wickham.
This is more in the realm of headcanon than canon, but I think an interesting possibility is that ... Elizabeth is right. Maybe there was some pretty substantial mismanagement with both the younger Darcy and Wickham.
There’s no indication that Lady Anne, less amiable though she may have been, ever had much to do with Wickham. He mentions her name, but only to connect Lady Catherine to Darcy. The person who impacted both Darcy and Wickham was the late Mr Darcy, Wickham’s (allegedly) beloved godfather and Darcy’s father.
Mr Darcy was apparently a great guy: principled, upstanding, lovable, generous, kind, everything amiable. Nobody has a word to say against him apart from Darcy’s generalizations about “my parents” and their collective mistakes, and even then he stops to stress how great his father specifically was.
And yet, something went wrong.
It’s one thing with Darcy, who turned out basically okay even before his character growth. He was the heir, he was spoiled, there might be an implication that his parents taught him basic principles but kind of left him to do his own thing, insofar as that was possible. None of this is shocking for that kind of family and it doesn’t have to reflect that badly on any of them.
But there’s also Wickham, who did not turn out okay, and we don’t actually know why. According to him, he was raised at Pemberley in the mansion. He and Darcy were “objects of the same parental care” and they spent their boyhoods together. He even claims that he was often given preference over Darcy. Now, this is all coming from Wickham, who is a very dubious source, so it’s worth looking at what the other people involved have to say.
It turns out that Wickham was, indeed, raised by Mr Darcy at Pemberley (Mrs Reynolds says so). Mr Darcy had a miniature of Wickham painted, and treasured it with pictures of his own children so much that, five years after his death, Darcy still hasn’t had the heart to get rid of it despite everything Wickham has done. Darcy describes Wickham as the companion of his youth and “the acknowledged favourite of my father.” This doesn’t incontrovertibly back up Wickham’s account because “favourite” had multiple meanings and didn’t necessarily refer to parental favoritism, though it could and frequently does in P&P. At any rate, it’s not a contradiction.
That’s why this is ultimately a headcanon matter. There’s really no way to know if Wickham is lying about Mr Darcy’s favoritism because his story mixes truth, lies, and a bunch of deceptive omissions. He doesn’t tell many outright falsehoods in his story, but there are a couple, and Darcy is not clear on this point, so it’s basically up to the reader to decide which alternative they want to go with.
As for my own headcanon? I think Wickham actually is telling the truth about this, to a point.
Okay, I realize that my relentless Darcy stanning could make my judgment somewhat suspect. I do have reasons other than woobifying Darcy, though—I think that Wickham genuinely being the favorite actually fits really well into the overall backstory and explains quite a few things about them both.
So, jumping fully into headcanon land: let’s go back to 28 years before P&P. Mr Darcy and Lady Anne have been married for an unknown period of time. Her sister, Lady Catherine, is married to Sir Lewis de Bourgh, while Mr Darcy’s steward, Mr Wickham, is married to the extravagant Mrs Wickham. All three women are pregnant.
I speculated in a recent post that Lady Anne and Lady Catherine may have shared some kind of genetic issue that led to difficulties bringing pregnancies to term. We don’t know this, but we do know that Darcy was an only child for a long time (potentially the entire 12 years between him and Georgiana) and that Lady Catherine’s daughter is truly an only child. To go by the plot to unify Rosings and Pemberley through Darcy and Anne’s marriage—planned when both were infants—it doesn’t seem that the Fitzwilliam sisters expected Lady Catherine to ever have another child.
My headcanon is that both sisters had suffered multiple miscarriages by the time that Darcy and Anne were conceived, that few people around them expected these pregnancies to turn out any better, and the fact that they were able to carry both pregnancies to term, that they did so at around the same time, and that the children turned out to be a girl and a boy, looked a lot like Providence to them.
I don’t imagine either thought very much about the Wickhams’ baby at the time. But it was different for Mr Darcy.
Darcy says in his letter that he is nearly the same age as Wickham, which technically doesn’t have to mean Wickham is older, but IMO suggests it. There’s leeway here, but I imagine that Wickham is about six months older than Darcy. When he’s born, Lady Anne is already pregnant with Darcy, but neither Mr Darcy nor anybody else yet realizes she’s not going to miscarry this time.
So the birth of the Wickhams’ son is somewhat bittersweet—Mr Darcy is a genuinely kind-hearted man with considerable affection for his steward, so he’s happy for them, but doesn’t know if he himself will ever have any children. And he understands that a child will strain the Wickhams’ finances and that Mr Wickham certainly won’t be able to provide much in the way of formal education or career opportunities for this child. Mr Darcy is touched at the request to stand as godfather and eager to do whatever he can for the baby. Mr Darcy does have a lot of other things going on, but baby Wickham is extremely adorable and he wants to do more.
We don’t know when he took on responsibility for Wickham’s upbringing and it doesn’t seem like he tried to sever Wickham from his birth parents, since the Wickhams already lived at or near Pemberley. Nevertheless, Mr Darcy takes on a very big role even for a godfather, and it’s possible that he offered to raise Wickham and had significantly bonded with him before Darcy was even born.
All the while, Lady Anne’s pregnancy is progressing—perhaps with difficulties, but obviously, she makes it through and delivers a son. Mr Darcy is undoubtedly thrilled, he goes along with naming the baby after her family (I think Darcy owes his first name to Fitzwilliam pride, not Darcy tradition), and while Mr Darcy is not directly involved in the Darcy/Anne engagement plot, he’s okay with it (Wickham is actually the first to mention it in P&P, so it seems to have genuinely been accepted or at least under discussion at Pemberley). The arrival of their son is more complicated than it would otherwise have been because of baby Wickham, but obviously, Mr Darcy is capable of loving two different children and he does.
As the babies grow into young boys, though, things become even more complicated. Wickham is open, outgoing, and lively. I suspect he somewhat mimics Mr Darcy’s manners—not out of childish malevolent intent, but because that’s who his role model is as a child, and it comes to him easily. In any case, I think it’s possible that this is the sort of person that Mr Darcy prefers in general, given that at the end of his life, he ends up selecting Lady Anne’s 25-year-old younger nephew (who has a similar temperament if more intelligence and morals) to act as the executor of his will and co-guardian of his 11-year-old daughter.
But their own son is ... different.
If you’ve followed me for much time or run across many of my Darcy-centric posts, you probably already know that I am adamantly opposed to the idea that reducing all of Darcy’s social issues to his arrogance is the best reading of him, much less the only correct one. Additionally, my personal headcanon is that he isn’t shy but is neurodivergent—specifically, that he’s on the autism spectrum. This interacts with his later arrogance but does not contradict or diminish it. So that’s part of this headcanon, too.
We don’t know a whole lot about very young Darcy, but we do know that he’s four when Mrs Reynolds comes to Pemberley, and that she notices he never speaks crossly to her, even then. She seems to consider this pretty amazing in a child of that age. There seems an unspoken contrast going on there—perhaps just with other children in general, but possibly, circumstances offered a very obvious contrast in Wickham.
I’m not suggesting that four- or five-year-old Wickham was already monstrous, because that’s not the case. But given that Mrs Reynolds believes that children’s natures give a decent idea of what they’ll become as adults, and that she also believes Wickham is “wild,” I suspect that young Wickham and young Darcy struck her as very different personalities from the first, and that she preferred Darcy’s.
For Mrs Reynolds, Darcy never expressing irritation towards her, even as a tiny child, is a sign of his virtue and good nature. And certainly, that’s part of it. But it may not be the only part.
Adaptations tend to make Darcy into a visibly brooding and somber sort of person, but Elizabeth never really sees him that way. Her characterization of his usual demeanor in the first half of the book is “sedate.” Charlotte actively looks for signs of his interest in Elizabeth when they’re in Kent (interest which we know he feels), but can’t tell from his expression if he’s interested or just absent-minded. He admits that he has trouble looking interested in people he’s unfamiliar with and in catching their tone of conversation.
Even when he’s actively working to be as agreeable as is humanly possible for him at that point, with the Gardiners, there’s something about his air that strikes them as formal and lacking liveliness (though it’s not a big deal for them). He tries to compliment Mrs Bennet late in the book, and even to Elizabeth, his manner comes across as cold. Nobody guesses that something went on during his and Elizabeth’s multi-mile engagement walk, because Elizabeth’s feelings are complicated before talking to her parents and because Darcy is so inexpressive in company. Later, Elizabeth ends up shielding and guiding him through the social occasions around their engagement.
So, my headcanon is that part of the reason four-year-old Darcy doesn’t ever speak crossly to Mrs Reynolds is that he’s a sweetheart, yes, but part of it is that he has trouble translating what he feels into tone and expression anyway. Consequently, we’ve got Wickham, who is energetic and open and dramatic and charming, and then there’s Darcy, who is demonstrative through action more than demeanor.
He’s quiet, quick at his lessons, and if you’re in a position to notice, sweet and generous in a way that Wickham apparently never has been—but there’s something peculiarly stiff about Darcy’s mannerisms and how he talks (when he talks at all), even by the standards of the time. He’s off-putting to many of these eighteenth-century people around him. Towards his parents, his manner seems respectful but not all that affectionate, especially by contrast to Wickham (though in fact, Darcy idolizes his father, and loves his mother and extended family).
I think Darcy’s father may well have simply found young Wickham more endearing, more conventionally boyish, and easier to bond with. He wasn’t unkind to Darcy by any means, but he did have a stronger rapport with Wickham and this would only become more marked as they grew older and their personalities became more pronounced.
But I also headcanon that Mr Darcy felt pretty guilty about preferring Wickham to his own child—his only son and heir, no less, and at the time, his only biological child. He felt even guiltier because his preference didn’t really have anything to do with some clear misbehavior that could be addressed. And it’s not like he didn’t love him. So, far from being harsh as a father, his affection and guilt led him to over-correct his approach to his son. He indulged Darcy, and while he took care to teach him the things he considered important for Darcy to learn and carry on as his heir, he otherwise mostly gave him his way and left him to do whatever he wanted.
At the same time, he didn’t want to penalize Wickham for being more likable, so he also was indulgent towards him, and on top of that, didn’t take as many pains to impart his principles because a) Wickham seemed to have them naturally and b) Wickham wasn’t the heir.
I think B ended up being really important for the development of both of these boys in such radically different directions. Mr Darcy essentially treated Wickham like another son, but at the end of the day, Wickham was not his son. No matter how engaging, how personable, how endearing, how beloved Wickham might be, he was never going to be the heir. He’s the oldest, he’s the favorite, he’s the most likable, but Darcy is still going to get everything.
It’s not like Mr Darcy was planning on just treating his godson like another son and then leaving him out to dry. Wickham essentially gets the younger son treatment—a good education to prepare him for a career in the church that will socially make him a gentleman. I don’t think Wickham was seething with resentment over this at, you know, eight or nine years old, but it was old enough for him to understand that their expectations were very different, and all the favoritism in the world was not going to change that.
I think it’s additionally possible that Wickham’s very virtuous father, who was also in the picture in some capacity, was deeply grateful, and expected young Wickham to also be grateful. But for Wickham, the obvious point of comparison in terms of his expectations was not the children of other servants, it was Darcy.
Wickham claims in P&P that Darcy was jealous of his father’s preference for Wickham from early in life, despite their boyhood friendship. Darcy, on the other hand, says that it would have been a depravity to do nothing for Wickham because he was the favourite of Darcy’s father and had been brought up as a gentleman but was completely dependent on the Darcys. Even though Darcy thinks quite poorly of Wickham’s character by age 23, he feels obligated to do something for him and hopes, even if he can’t quite believe it, that it’ll turn out okay.
I don’t think Darcy’s reasoning here sounds at all like someone given to jealousy, honestly. I’ve seen it occasionally suggested that he is jealous of Wickham, actually, or that in some more nuanced earlier draft of P&P that he was jealous and Wickham was less awful and blahblah, but I don’t think so. I think this is where the deception on this issue lies. Wickham was indeed the favorite, but Darcy wasn’t that jealous of him. He was jealous of Darcy.
It wouldn’t be horrible if Darcy had been jealous, to be clear. It would be a very understandable emotion for a child in this situation to feel. Nevertheless, he doesn’t really seem to have been.
I think part of this is that he’s not a particularly jealous person by temperament (fandom sometimes assumes he is, but I disagree). Part is that he tends to process things in his own very particular way that doesn’t always follow the paths you would expect. But part, I think, is that while he was somewhat hurt by the situation, what jealousy he might have felt was headed off very early.
There was another important figure in all this, after all: Lady Anne.
#pay no attention to my woefully inconsistent verb tenses >_>#anghraine babbles#anghraine's headcanons#austen blogging#george wickham#fitzwilliam darcy#lady anne blogging#mr darcy senior#lady anne darcy#long post#grand unified theory of pemberley#-> will be my master tag for these posts#/#//#///#////#/////#a#b#c#d#e#pride and prejudice#jane austen#mrs reynolds#rare breed of attack unicorn#(for the autism headcanon!)#lady catherine de bourgh#mr wickham (senior)#austen fanwank
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Robo-week: Gym Trash
You get home from work feeling exhausted from bussing tables and putting on a fake smile to ungrateful guests. Your pockets are filled with miscellaneous dollars and loose coins from the tips you were able to collect from the day. You drop it into the mason jar on your nightstand, nearly half-way filled with money by now. Still, it feels like an eternity before you’ll reach your goals. For the last year, everything you’ve made from your lousy waiter job barring your bills and other necessities had gone into my dream fund. What did you want to buy, you ask? A vacation? Maybe a new house or car? Well, in reality your hard earned wages were being put towards something more carnal.
Robotic companions had just been unveiled and slowly been rolled out a few years ago. Though they were initially designed to take on the jobs deemed too dangerous for humans, they have since progressed to be built for all kinds of specifications. From actors, sport players, and doctors. Some even were sold for commercial and personal use. The only problem was they typically cost an arm and a leg.
Staring at your savings, your dream felt fleeting. It is disheartening to give up on the goal, but seems nigh impossible. Even the simplest of bots are far from your grasp, with your desire for all kinds of robot additions pushing it further. The truth sinks deep into your chest, almost like a whining pain. You decided to distract yourself by taking a trip to the gym. Though you worry of your fatigue, at least you know you can find resolve there. Jake, one of the trainers there, had become one of your closest friends and always knew how to relieve your problems.
You make it to the gym, swiping yourself into the weight area. The ambient smell of musk and exercise slightly rouses you. If you ever make your dream a reality, you would definitely have to purchase the ‘realistic body secretions’ add on. You love the idea of your own sweat machine. As you walk around the various weight sets and machines you take note of all the trainers. You recognize none of them. All around, there are only new faces helping others in their physical journeys. One of them, a relatively ripped stud, struts over to you. Though you had never seen him before, he was wearing the gym’s employee nametag.
“Welcome back, ready for a workout?” He has a strange way of speaking, but you can’t put your finger why it is off. You look at him weirded out.
“Sorry, I’m looking for Jake, do you know where I could find him?”
The man stares off, like he was in the middle of translating what you said to him, before snapping back to reality. “I’m sorry, no one by that name works here. I will be here if you need a spotter.” He then walks passed you to another gym patron, asking that initial question.
You are confused and saddened by his words. What was going on here, and where was your friend? You decide to head to the information desk and demanded to know where Jake was. Behind the desk was a cheery woman. “Jake? Oh ‘Jake!’ Yeah, he is no longer here with us. We, uh, upgraded our training team.” You wanted to cry, you didn’t even get to say goodbye or exchange contact information. As much as it hurt to realize, you even admit you may have even had feelings deeper than friendship for Jake. The woman could evidently see the sadness on your face. “Look, I really shouldn’t tell anyone this, but I’ve seen you around and I know that you always requested Jake as a trainer. There is still a chance to find him out back in the alley. You may be surprised to find out he is not what he seemed. We have no use for him, but don’t tell my boss I told you okay?” In the alley? You don’t understand what she meant, but regardless decide to follow her direction.
Going behind the gym, you find a small divot in between the buildings. The way is shrouded in the shade, but you find your way to the gym’s dumpster. At least you assume it is theirs, as you get closer you can smell the dank yet erotic scent you were familiar with. Looking around, you don’t initially find anything amiss until you turn the corner and see him. You instantly recognize the handsome Asian man as your trainer and friend Jake. Though when you see him you immediately become worried as he is unmoving on the ground, even more surprising, there was an opening on the side of his forehead, but not like a wound. You run over to examine it and your realize it looks like a slot for some kind of card or memory drive.
You couldn’t believe this, Jake was a robot? Sure you had heard about models specialized for gym training, but none of the employees acted anything but human. Taking a peek into the gym dumpster, you found the rest of the gym trainers also discarded for their superior models in use. That likely means that the one stud was nothing but a machine as well. Most of the other gym boys seem in states of disrepair, yet with the exemption of the mission memory card, Jake looked completely fine. That’s when your heart started to flutter as a plan came to mind.
-
“Good morning babe! You just caught me, I’m about to go for a run, care to join me? You smile but shake your head. Since that fateful day your gym replaced their trainer-units, your life has become a dream.
You took home Jake and now he is all yours. You had to spend all your savings to buy a new memory drive and additional parts to bring him back to working order. He was practically a blank bot when you started him up. But with some coding wizardry, you were able to recreate the Jake you knew, with some new perks added. First of all, he now is in love with you, and will do anything to make you happy. Also he now loves to show off his body. With the income from his OnlyFans, you’re not in such a money rut as you once were. You would even be able to afford a brand new bot soon, but you would much rather invest in upgrading Jake or saving up in case of a technical malfunction.
As you stand looking out your balcony you see Jake turn the corner. His pectoral chest bouncing as he jogs down the street shirtless. He takes a reprieve to stretch his legs, though as a robot he doesn’t have to if not to tease you for what’s to come. It’s hard to imagine that his muscles are just synthetic flesh hiding an android. It’s almost erotic. You can’t wait until he comes back all hot and sweaty, and you’ll be able to savor it for the rest of the day.
—-
Thanks again to my friend @cutestabber for both the story idea, as well as the pics (both the art piece and the model for Jake!)
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hello! i heard you were looking for inside job related requests. so may i request some general reagan x reader relation hcs? have a great day!
a/n: sure thing anon :D!! i hope you have a good day as well :))!
extra info: reader is gender neutral so anyone is safe to read this :DD. also whenever reagan is mention speaking she’ll be bolded with green (+ brett being orange and robotus being blue since they’re being mentioned)
> you and reagan most likely met while you both are working at cognito, from there, everything played out what you two would’ve never expected.
> reagan was a little cautious to let you get close to her, probably because she doesn’t really know who you are.
> like she did with brett, she’ll literally find out everything about you, soon she’ll find herself much more interested in you then she thought she would be.
> she will probably casually bring up some things from your life so you could talk about it in more detail and wow, she’s vv much invested in whatever you’re saying.
> “heyyyy (Y/N), have you ever tried joining *insert whatever activity* ?” “oh gosh, i haven’t done that since highschool *proceeds to talk about it for the next hour as reagan listens*”
> god, now this seems like some childhood crush, she hates it SO much, she’s in so much denial, she couldn’t and can’t like you, liking a coworker is not a good idea.
> whenever she brought this up to either brett or robotus, she’s met with the realization that maybe she DOES like you.
> but she won’t really admit it out-loud
> “god i don’t know guys, they seem to stick to me, i don’t know how but it makes me feel all mushy i don’t like it” “maybe it’s the L word if you’re catching my drift reagan ;D” “what you talking about brett?” “im assuming it’s about love reagan, (Y/N) has been the main person you’ve been talking to lately besides brett. i’ve watched on the cameras”
> she tries to hype herself up to try and confess to you, she’s nervous she’ll admit that, REALLY nervous.
> she pulls you to the side after finishing a meeting with the gang, she decides to get this over with, weither or not this goes great she just wants this to get this over with.
> she’s muttering and stuttering through the whole confession like a idiot, but soon she got side tracked when you cut her off with your own confession (thank god).
> “y’know (Y/N), uh, i really like, yo- uh i mean, i..like..yo-“ “i like you too reagan, like a lot, i think you’re really smart and i like that about you” “wow… heh, thanks?”
> regan would probably take you to museums for dates on the regular, theyre the sexiest places on earth cmon now, she loves them a lot, cmon.
> she also likes to ramble on a lot about either her inventions or like whatever stuff she’s interested in at the moment.
> she would love listening to you as well as she works since she would at least something to listen to while she does her work. she also just loves it when you talk but she doesn’t like admitting it
i hope this is good enough and pls tell me if this is what you meant dear anon, have a good day, noon, or night :DD
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Chapter 3.
I haven’t heard from Alistair for the past week. Despite that, I still have been checking the radio everyday since the last broadcast, in hopes of hearing his voice. I did so partly out of boredom, and partly because I’ve begun to worry about his well being. It wasn’t my conscious attempt at caring about him; after all, he’s nothing more than some kid I've never even seen in my whole life. Yet, the warm “Hello, Aspenville!”, I heard this evening, came as a relief.
- I feel like I owe you an apology for my absence. - said the boy on the other side of the radio - The past week didn’t offer us any new information worth sharing with you, therefore I saw no point in even starting an audition. If I’m being honest, I began to question the very point of what I’m doing.
Alistair seems to still take himself way too seriously. This poor boy is too blinded by his own hopes and delusions to see that what he’s doing is nothing more than playing a game. He seems to believe that the faith of Aspenville lies in his hands. Do you really think you can save the world, Alistair?
Or perhaps I’m actually the one in the wrong…
- Luckily - the boy continued - I’m not coming to you empty handed today. What I managed to accomplish, in the past couple of days, may not be a lot, and I can’t blame you if you find it rather underwhelming, but I’m proud to say that it surely gives us hope for the future. Let me tell you about everything that happened lately:
I’ve spent the past week searching for answers. Day and night, I’ve been focused on one thing and one thing only - the truth. It wasn’t an easy search. I managed to find my dad’s phone book, containing the full list of numbers belonging to his former researchers. I have to admit, looking through my dad’s belongings after the late events wasn’t a pleasant experience. I try not to think about my parents. Looking back and getting stuck in the past would bring no good to my research, in fact, it would slow it down. After all, I’ve been told multiple times to always value reason over emotions.
I made multiple calls over the past week. Both to the research centre and the individual researchers themselves. It didn't take me too much time to realize that contacting the right people isn’t nearly as difficult as getting them to actually hear me out. Most of them dismissed my calls right away, the few who didn’t thought I’m crazy and hung up after realizing that they’re talking to a 17 year old. Perhaps I was crazy. Perhaps I still am. Perhaps me trying to find a way out of our current situation is actually a sign of pure insanity. None of that mattered to me. As long as I can help someone with my actions, I couldn’t care less.
Being viewed as a particularly immature teenager, who has too much time on his hands, by the very people who I considered to be my only hope wasn’t helpful. I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t eat. I smiled purely for the sake of not raising concerns, and for that matter, I couldn’t even cry. Just laugh; laugh at the absurdity of this all. The world is absurd, the calamity (the public named it that, I never liked this term) and for all of it, my research is absurd. I questioned everything. I doubted myself. I became paranoid and then so very tired. And then a miracle happened. When I reached my lowest, I found what I was searching for. I finally found the truth - a young researcher by the name of Virgil Montgomery.
- I would love to eventually get Dr. Montgomery to talk with me on this program, however, from what I’ve noticed, he’s a rather shy person, and I don’t want to put pressure on him - Alistair continued - For now, I’m going to share with you the details of our research via radio, and we’ll see what future brings us.
He sounded ecstatic, I could just imagine how much all of this meant to him. After all, despite all the difficulties he had encountered, he managed to find someone just as passionate as him. Or perhaps just as insane. I’ve begun to question whether his research was actually child’s play, as I initially thought.
- Oh listeners - the enthusiastic voice spoke again - you have no idea how wonderful it feels! To finally have someone listen to what you have to say… I used to believe that credibility isn’t for me. Not right now, at least. I used to think that you gain a voice once you enter adulthood. Before that you can listen to what the elders have to say and obey them quietly. You may question what they say, but you’ll never be able to voice your concerns. It’s just like trying to scream under the water - no one can hear you. Since drowning is silent, without a solid voice to take a lead, this entire town is doomed to go down, and then - maybe the entire world. If Virgil Montgomery is the brain willing to help humanity overcome this crisis, I want to be the voice giving him a means to do so. As far as I know, he also knows how terrible it feels to be looked down on and ignored because of age or an uncommon approach to the problem. Well, it’s all in the past now. Isn’t it beautiful how both of us can help each other in helping the world?
I understood where Alistair’s excitement came from. Having an authority figure listen to what you have to say may feel like a blessing at his age. However something about all of this felt rather bittersweet.
Prioritizing his research, no matter how important wouldn’t it be to him, over his own emotional well being is something I can never consider admirable. Avoiding what brings him anguish, instead of trying to cope with it, seems like a rather foolish choice, one that might end in tragedy at that.
- I can’t say that I agree with every idea proposed by Dr. Montgomery - Alistair continued - in fact, we tend to disagree on quite a lot of matters. For example, Dr. Montgomery is very much in favour of the sunflowers theory, the one claiming that Strangers tend to be drawn to sunflowers, which I’m very much against. He claims that based on our current research this is the most logical explanation, however something about it just doesn’t sit right with me. I can’t even say why, it just feels terribly wrong…
Alistair seemed to get rather upset whenever the topic of sunflowers was brought up. It wasn’t difficult to understand why. With how much meaning those flowers held in his life, it was reasonable for him to get upset whenever his view of them as a symbol of joy and childlike hope was challenged. If he wants to actually contribute to finding a scientific explanation of the current situation, he would eventually have to let go of this nostalgia. I think it’s clear to see that Alistair tries to approach every problem with sheer cold logic, the same way as the people he admired growing up did, however he tends to get lost in his emotions while doing so. There’s nothing shameful about being a sensitive person, yet in his position this dissonance should be considered a fatal character flaw.
- During our last talk Dr. Montgomery mentioned working on some big theory, something that might possibly entirely change our perception of this situation. I don’t know about you, listeners, but I’m very excited to hear what he had been up to. I’ll make sure to keep you updated with every new information I receive. Both of us share the belief that in order for this program to be a trustworthy source of information we can’t hide anything from its audience, therefore I’m going to be absolutely transparent about our research.
I’ve noticed the sun beginning to set, and at that moment it occurred to me that I don’t actually want the broadcast to end. I missed Alistair’s voice and I didn’t want to wait another week to hear from him again; especially considering that the news he’ll have to deliver likely won’t be of pleasant nature.
- On a different note, I decided to work on making the radio station’s atmosphere more welcoming, since it doesn’t seem like we’ll be leaving it anytime soon. The small garden in the building’s backyard looks nothing like the one from my childhood; aside from a few sunflowers here and there - which as you already know are nothing uncommon around this area - it feels rather empty and neglected. I want to change it. Not only would it help to make this place feel more like home to both Neil and myself, gardening would aid me to occasionally focus on something else than our current situation. Who knows, perhaps I’ll even be able to harvest some fruit and vegetables as a food supply. This morning I found a package of narcissus seeds while looking around the station building. Since it’s early November, they most likely wouldn’t bloom if I planted them now, but I’ll make sure to do so as soon as their season starts. I was never a huge fan of those flowers, however now I think I’m beginning to like them.
Hearing Alistair get excited about flowers right after discussing his research on beings possibly serving as a threat to humanity, felt oddly innocent; almost in an unsettling way.
- Anyway - he went on - I feel like I’ve begun to ramble again. Goodnight, listeners, hopefully we’ll get to hear from each other again soon enough!
Sleep well, Alistair.
#writing#creative writing#original story#original writing#original work#writeblr community#writeblr#writblr#writersociety#writers of tumblr#tumblr writers#bookblr
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Lately I'm totally stuck on the song Wax & Wane by Alana Henderson. I love it.
And the more I listen to it, the more I keep thinking of Marcille. (I feel like it'd be great for a fanvid of her, particularly when the entire series is animated.) But regardless, I can line it up so well with her story, so I just wanna ramble a bit about the lyrics now.
Under the cut for spoilers for the whole manga and length.
The song's clearly originally about a het relationship breaking up, but I don't have to interpret it that way! It gets better for her the further in the song you get, in my opinion.
I could blame our partin’
For the fact that I’m not startin’
All my mornings at the time they ought to start
And I could summon up a sisterhood
Cry lead me out of widowhood
But that is melodrama on my part
Least fitting lines in at the beginning, but you could still sort of make them work in a fanvid at least, with slow reaction/not being ready or prepared, being caught off guard, being dramatic and then taking it back every time with food. It makes me think more of lighthearted stuff mostly, though also perhaps with Falin's original death scene maybe?
I could blame my grieving
On the fact that I’ve been leaving
Us behind, the ones we were when this began
But I have rose-tinted us ruby
And I’ve conjured up a new me
Who bent freely to her newly molded man
Marcille remembering dead Falin and also her father can be the 'rose-tinted' and the newly-molded man could sorta be the life she leads now. In a sense, she's idealized both of them and their happy times with her, without being willing to linger on the negatives. Even though those drive her completely.
But we bent and we broke and I meant what I spoke
And the blame game does not produce a winner
We went as far as we could go, we had to go that far to know
That we had nowhere left to aim
And no one left to blame but
The moon’s wax and wane and the turn of the tide
The moon’s wax and wane and the turn of the tide
This refrain matches so well with the dungeon living pushing her (and all of them, but her especially as this is her song to me) to her limits and beyond as they go deeper. I picture this first refrain as earlier, the first effort to go back and get Falin back, and succeeding but only briefly.
And I could blame my parents
For my vices so inherent
That I cannot shake them much as I may try
But how much have I inherited
Or picked up since I was a kid?
That nature versus nurture paradigm
I could blame wrong turns that I take
On decisions that my head makes
Then trace each error right back to my heart
And is it broken ‘cause you toyed with it
Or was it formed with a little split
That grows each year further and further apart
My favorite Marcille verse. It matches so well to her grief (often in advance) for her loved ones' shorter lifespans, and the way she never fit in growing up. Is the enormity of this desire due to her parents giving her this half-elf life, or is it her own personality focusing on it too much by dedicating herself to studying to 'fix' it? Is her heart broken because Falin died too, or is this something that's always been building, only increasing the more she pursues this path... (Stuff like the nightmare attack, or that one scene where she has to animate everyone with necromancy and it's funny up until you see her break down after and realize how terrible that would have been for Marcille in particular...)
But we love and we lose and we lash-out and we bruise
And the name of the game’s just the living
We go as far as we can go we’ve got to go that far to know
That we have everything to gain
By knowing we can blame
The moon’s wax and wane and the turn of the tide
The moon’s wax and wane and the turn of the tide
You have to eat to live! Pushing further into the dungeon! This time around I see it as much later scenes, as they work to get monster!Falin back. Even when that means going against other people, even when it means planning on (arguable?) cannibalism, etc.
And so I look to Karma
And if I try not to harm another
I will not be harmed by anything
This one bit actually really makes me think of Falin, but it also in a way matches a more naive earlier mentality, before the various characters all accept that in order to live they have to eat (and thus hurt other things). Not to mention, it leads in well to Marcille becoming the dungeon master because she wants to protect her friends and also wants to extend everyone's lifespans. She doesn't want to cause any harm, at least in her eyes. But it rapidly goes wrong throughout the rest of the verse:
If I salute the magpie, knock on wood
Will I be doing any good?
Am I strung up or do I pull the string?
Will the fact I cling too tightly
To my dreams come back and bite me
Am I trying to make a science of an art?
And will the very fate I wish to woo
Be the one that I undo
By thinking I can steer this crazy cart
Dungeon master Marcille here! It's perfect for all of those parts of her story. Getting the power to control things on such a huge scale, but being manipulated and lacking control over herself. Her dreams and desires overtaking her, leading to destruction, the warped version of her father and life with her friends that are offered to her. Her efforts to try and steer it...
But I’ll live and I’ll learn
And I’ll light and I’ll burn
’Til the flame simmers down to a spark
I’ll go as far as I can go
I’ve to go that far to know that I have everything to gain
By knowing I can’t train
The moon’s wax and wane and the turn of the tide
The moon’s wax and wane and the turn of the tide
And then the endgame! She struggles to get it back, to undo what has begun. Her friends reaching out to her and her realizing this is as far as she can go, pushing too far was wrong. Accepting the possibility of Falin's death being permanent, accepting death in general. The lingering changes pointing out ways they didn't and couldn't achieve everything they wanted, like Falin's legs, Laios's inability to get close to monsters, Marcille's loss of the desire to do her hair.
I never said it was your fault
I only wanted to blame someone
I never said it was your fault
I only wanted to blame someone
The moon’s wax and wane and the turn of the tide
And the final refrain is more of that acceptance. Marcille didn't precisely want to place 'blame' but she wanted to see it as a problem that she could fix, rather than accepting life and death (which = the moon's wax and wane and the turn of the tide).
#music#dungeon meshi#marcille donato#this song is stuck in my head so bad i love it. and i cannot stop thinking of marcille every time now#not at first but the more i listened the more i was linking it to her#i gotta blab about it to get it out of just my head
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heya! hope you’re having a good day❤️
you reblogged my post about demonology sources. i really appreciate that! i have a few questions :)
how would you say is a good way to approach demons? i’ve worked with spirits and deities for a while. it feels like the way one would approach a demon is slightly different than other beings. or maybe does it just depend on the demons personality and culture/belief system their from?
i’d love to hear your opinion on this! a mutual of mine expressed to me that they think everyone has a demon on their spirit team. idk what i think about it since i’m just now starting to research demons. maybe it’s their own UPG but i’d love to hear what you think!
anywhoooo thanks for your time and knowledge! have an awesome day ✨✨
First of all: Do NOT aproach them as you would a deity. Deities are usually (if not always) benevolent by nature.
Demons are, as the name suggests, demonic. That means in direct opposition to all the is good and light and cristian values.
That said, there is many variations within the hirearchy of Hell. And each have a different personality.
.
On one side of the scale you have such demons as Alastair, Hell's Executioner.
He is amazing if you want revenge and do not mind to grievously harm said enemies.
But he will also demand a high pay, and take even more. Even if his services is worth it.
.
On the other side of the scale you have deemons such as Orobas, whom do not lie and grants protection.
Never worked with him personally, but I hear he is prone to be stoic, fair, and also protective. You'd have to really piss him off to be in any danger from him.
.
Then there is demons such as Asmodeus and Sitri (different aspects of Lust and Seduction) whom will always be pleasant, charming, and amazing companions that will make you think they are kind and benevolent... and often make you make deals which you in retrospect will realize cost you far more than you want to pay.
I find Asmodeus quite wonderful to work with myself, and he has many useful skills... but it's important to make sure you know what you want and what you are willing to pay to get it BEFORE making a Deal with him.
.
Lastly there is the demons that even experienced Demonologists hesitate to summon. Like Glasya-Labolas.
If you want to know what that worst-case scenario looks like, I recomend reading The Magus by Alex Sumner.
It's a novel, but the magical theory in it is somewhat realistic. (Although the metode of the Magus in that book is bot a method commonly used --for obvious reasons-- but effective when used. There are other ways, however.)
Considering it the equalent of trying to befriend a vicious attack-dog wolf that has been abused its whole life, that thinks like a beast but has the intelligence of a man.
Some rare few may be able to... but the risk is immensely high. And any attempts to force him would not end well.
.
Then there are demons who fit into neither cathegory as well.
And that's not even touching upon the related topics of Devils or Fallen Angels. Or Lucifer.
.
As long as you don't mistake demons for angels or deities, and act respectful towards them, you should be fine. Once you know what you're doing.
I also advise to NOT use the summoning methods written in Ars Goetia. They are meant for priests, not for people who actually want to be friendly with them.
I believe I have a note on that, either tagged Demonology or Demonolatry.
.
Warnings aside...
Demons can be great friends and Allies. As long as you are respectful.
I also recommend you to check out Priestess Akelta (Satan and Sons) on YouTube.
Her video on her work with Mammom gives you great insight in both the challenges and the rewards of working with Demons.
--Belial
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March 29th, 2024: Twin Flames, "The One," and Marriage
One of Epicurus’s opinions on the biggest mistakes a person can make is the need for romance. Our society puts so much importance on “soulmates” or finding “the one.” What if you never do… Do you want to spend your whole life looking? Is there something wrong with me if I haven’t found the right one? How do I feel okay being all on my own? These are all questions I had once asked myself, too. But tonight, I’m here to write to you that all of those good loving feelings can be felt without having a partner by your side. That you can be fulfilled without having that perfect boyfriend or girlfriend. It might seem like a grim concept at first, don’t you have to have tried it all before realizing you don’t need anyone? Well the answer is no! One of the things people fear is that they will “die alone.” Sometimes we wonder hypotheticals like this, when in reality, there is no question: everyone dies alone. Even if you have been married for 60 years, on your deathbed, your wife or husband will not be dying with you. Although they may be there watching you with your friends and family, you will have died alone. But this is okay. The thought of this being sad and scary is just a result of society's conditioning. One day in my philosophy class, my teacher asked, “When you start a relationship do you think about how it will eventually end in a breakup, or a marriage?” For me, I do not want to be married, so it will end in a break up everytime, but I was surprised at how many said they did not think about that. Whenever I start a new relationship I realize I will break up with them in the end; but that doesn’t scare me, I have free will. I have many thoughts on today’s modern dating landscape. I think our idea of “love” is skewed, and I don’t truly understand who this benefits.
Along with this topic, I’ve noticed online there’s been a talk of “twin flames” in the spiritual sides of TikTok and other platforms. I do not agree with this, and I honestly don’t believe they exist. I’ve seen a video where a person states that if you find your twin flame, it doesn’t matter if you’re married or have children, leave them to be with your twin flame! That is absolutely ridiculous. Don’t do that, you are most likely just blinded by the idea of a “perfect match,” and this might hurt you in the long run. Just a quick side note about the increasing talk about “twin flames.”
When you listen to the radio or the top hits, most of those songs will be about love. These songs usually follow the theme of “I need you to stay!” or what will I do without you kind of talk. Some of these people are 20, 30 years old singing like this. But you do not have to give any of your partners the power to break you. No one is a part of you, it’s just you. Your experiences shape you, and your partners all play a role in this, but they are just a flicker of light in your life, they are not meant to stay; for people change. You do too.
You will feel so much more whole in life realizing all you need is yourself, your partner isn’t your “other half” but rather a nice addition to your life. Never feel obligated to keep someone around in your life if they’re: draining your energy, making you uncomfortable, making you cry, stealing from you, guilting you, or being disrespectful. Remember that it’s always better to be alone than to be with someone who makes you feel alone! The universe will open up new possibilities when you make good choices for yourself. And I 100% support divorces! Don’t live your life in misery because you vowed to be with someone through thick and thin, if they're sinking in the mud; don’t let them drag you down with them! And parents, sometimes it’s better to raise kids in two healthy households, than in one dysfunctional household. I’ve spoken to kids of divorced parents and they’ve said it’s better now that it’s over. Taking care of yourself will show your kids how to take care of themselves, too. I can speak from experience… children are affected a lot more from unhealthy marriages than you think. You have to love yourself first, before you can truly accept love from another person. Take care of yourself!
“At first I was afraid, I was petrified. Kept thinking I could never live without you by my side. Then I spent so many nights thinkin’ how you did me wrong, I proved strong… and I learned how to get along.”
-I Will Survive. Gloria Gaynor
#love#tips#life#life hax#marriage#divorce#moms of tumblr#moms#wifes#dads#gay couples#love yourself#self love
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Stevetony Weekly - December 18th
Happy Sunday! Here’s what I’ve read this week. Enjoy and remember to leave your author comments/kudos.
***Marks my recent favorites
~*~
***Some Kind of Personal War by sara_holmes
And Tony realizes that working out who the Winter Soldier used to be and who he is now are two entirely different things.
***I'll Draw this Line (and hope you take my side.) by sara_holmes
Steve Rogers is the Winter Soldier. He has his missions, he had his orders, he has his place in the world. If people would just stop reminding him about that time he was Captain America, it would be a lot easier to stay in that damn place.
Learning Curve by picturecat
Freshly defrosted, Steve Rogers is the newest teacher at the Avengers Academy—an attempt to guide and teach the newest generation of heroes before they have to take on the burdens of their teachers. Steve himself has a lot of learning to do.
In The Meantime, In Between Time by nativemossy
Steve was born sickly, and by all realistic means he should have been dead. But he wasn’t, and that was precisely the problem.
He had been born a month and a half early, with asthma, a heart condition, and an irregularly bent spine, to begin with. That was followed by a bout of scarlet fever when he was eight, and a brush with death from rheumatic fever in his teens. These were interspersed with summer colds and winter flus, sometimes twice yearly. Into adulthood he had frequent stomach ulcers, and a case of pernicious anemia that required him to spend a significant portion of the little money he made on discounted liver at the butchers shop. Had anyone else had his cocktail of illness, they would be dead several times over.
Love me tinder. by captainstars
Anthony decides to set up a Tinder profile for his Dad. Greg Helps.
Or
"You've been busy, I had to take matters into my own hands." Anthony told him. "I don't want you to die old and alone dad. Or become grumpy like Jarvis."
"Why would I die alone when I have you to keep me company." Tony pouted.
"It's important to hang out with people your own age. Or at least that's what my homeroom teacher has been telling me." Anthony informed him, kicking a socked foot up.
so you could be king by mmtion
Tony is the rock star trying to regain the public's favour after his latest drug-induced disaster. Steve is the up-and-coming country music sensation, in over his head. Both of them are desperate.
Slut Era by BladeoftheNebula
Tony never meant to become the campus bicycle but since that was apparently what was expected of him he figured it was easier just to lean into it.
He just never expected Steve Rogers would ever want to take a ride.
Good Things to Those Who Wait by Annie D (scaramouche)
Tony assumed that after he and Steve got together, his heats would be more fun. He’s right, but he’s also wrong.
May This Be Love by lellabeth
Today will be a good day.
He’ll nod and he’ll smile and he’ll speak, and his voice won’t shake and his lips won’t tremble.
He’ll do well with the customers, he won’t hide behind the sleek chrome of the coffee machine.
He’ll pretend he doesn’t feel rubbed raw, doesn’t feel like a trapped nerve, doesn’t feel like his skin is too small and he’s about to burst out of it.
Today will be a good day.
Reasons To Be Thankful by WilmaKins
Well, an awkward reunion with the family is traditional at Thanksgiving.
So, it's probably as good a time as any for Tony to make his peace with the rest of Steve's team…
Indestructible Things by mechanicaljewel
Steve shows Tony a new use for the shield.
A Late-Night Snack, and Other Good Ideas by Annie D (scaramouche)
Steve's heightened senses means that he always knows when Tony's in heat. One night, he finally does something about it.
Love Is A Masquerade by Mizzy
When the Avengers are invited to attend Tony Stark's Annual Masquerade Ball, Steve's hoping Iron Man will be there--after all, he can wear a mask and keep his identity secret. So when Steve recognizes Iron Man's distinctive thighs, Steve is SO sure he's found Iron Man's pilot... He's right, but not in a way Steve would ever have guessed...
***The Anniversary by nightwalker
Tony's not as bad at this relationship thing as he thinks he is. That's not to say he's exactly good at it either.
****Never Too Late for Love by Sineala
Steve has always believed that a soulbond is a blessing -- a rare and beautiful miracle, joining the thoughts and feelings of two people forever, from the first time they touch. Steve knows he's not going to be one of the lucky ones. He knows Gail isn't his soulmate. But he loves her, even if they're not soulmates, and he's going to do right by her. After the war's over, he's going to marry her, and they're going to settle down. They'll buy a house. They'll have children. He'll see his family again. Maybe Bucky will live next door. It's going to be a good life. He doesn't need a soulbond. He'll be fine without one.
Then Steve wakes up sixty years in the future to find that his wonderful life has moved on without him. His family is long dead. His fiancée married his best friend. And the only purpose he has left is leading the Ultimates, a misbegotten team of superheroes with flaws too numerous to count. Steve hates everything about the future -- but most of all he detests Tony, flashy and flirtatious, who embodies everything Steve hates about a world he never wanted to live in.
And, oh, yeah, Steve has a soulmate after all: Tony fucking Stark.
#Stevetony weekly#stevetony#stevetony fic#fic recs#fic#stony#stony fic#stony fic rec#steve rogers#tony stark#iron man#captain america
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The Confession: A Huntlow One- Shot
An entirely self- indulgent one- shot taking place right after the events of 'For the Future'. Ao3 linked below, one- shot below the cut.
As Willow’s hand grasped his tighter, Hunter felt his heart sing.
His Captain— the Captain— was holding his hand, and he had no idea what to do. Sure, he had caught and held her earlier, and they had been much closer when he’d teleported them out of the detention pit, but somehow this felt more… intimate. This wasn’t out of necessity, she was choosing to hold his hand.
Hunter didn’t know much about how love or feelings worked, but he had seen Luz and Amity hold hands in this way, and he couldn’t help but wonder.
Could Willow… like him too?
He had liked the Captain since he had met her, but it hadn’t been until he’d seen Luz and Amity together and his cheeks started blushing against his will that he realized he liked her.
He never could have imagined Willow liked him too, especially after finding out what he was.
“Hey,” said Willow with a nudge, “Look at Stringbean and Clover. It looks like they’re getting along great.”
Hunter smiled bittersweetly.
“Yeah. It is.”
Willow squeezed his hand in understanding and leaned in closer. Almost as if his presence was a comfort.
“I really wish Flapjack could be here to meet Stringbean,” Willow stated sympathetically, “I mean… we all do.”
“Thank you, Captain. That means a lot.”
Willow giggled, “Why do you still call me that?”
“What? Captain?” Oh, I don’t know. I guess cause that’s how I met you.”
“Yeah, but we’re friends now.”
“Y— yeah,” Hunter stuttered, “Friends.”
If Willow noticed his nervousness, she didn’t acknowledge it.
“And I never really got to say it,” Willow continued, “but I’m really sorry. That’s what I was trying to say with the photo, and then I thought I’d made things worse, but then you said I hadn’t. But I am, Hunter. What Belos did to you was unforgivable. You’ve been through so much, I can’t even imagine. And then I thought you were gone and weren’t coming back and—“
Willow’s eyes got teary, and instinctively Hunter grabbed her other hand.
“‘All I’ve ever wanted is to be brave and strong to protect my friends. I thought that meant holding in my emotions, but I was wrong. Our emotions— our hearts— make us strong.”
“I’ll be honest, I don’t even know if I have a heart,” Hunter joked, “Or if I do, what it’s made of. That’s, umm, some Grimmwalker humor right there. But you’re right.”
Willow laughed, “I may not know--or care-- what it’s made out of, but you definitely have a heart, Hunter. You’re a person and have one of the biggest hearts I know. If it weren’t for you, I would have never made it out of the detention pit. Or fallen to my death.”
Hunter gulped, the whole reality of how close they were sinking in, standing there hand in hand.
“That’s because of Flapjack,” Hunter noted, “And I only realized I could teleport because of what you said. I got so upset hearing you call yourself that, and I knew I had to do something, and it just kind of…. happened.”
Willow let go of one of his hands and wiped away a tear, her gaze not leaving Hunter’s own.
“When we met, you mentioned being considered half- a- witch as well,” she noted, “I think that’s been I knew we’d be good friends. That you’d understand.”
“And then I ruined it by locking you guys up,” Hunter grumbled.
“Hey,” Willow grasped his other hand again, “don’t beat yourself up over that. The Emperor’s Coven brainwashed you. And you ended up helping us. Why else would we still want you on our team?”
Hunter smiled, “Yeah… if we ever get to play again.”
He said it lightheartedly, but deep down he was terrified. Terrified at the state of their world. Terrified he’d actually never get to play flyer derby again.
“Yeah,” Willow agreed, “If we ever get to play again. But I’m sure we will. After we take care of Belos. I am just waiting to get some revenge. And then there’s the Collector— I’m honestly not sure who is scarier.”
Hunter definitely knew who he thought was scarier, after being turned into a puppet, but he didn’t need to remind Willow of that.
His heart wanted to deny it, but she seemed… genuinely upset by what had happened to him. Like she cared. Even then, it might not mean what he hoped. She had said herself that they were friends.
Just friends.
“Hunter, can I… ask you something?” asked Willow, staring at their hands.
“Umm… yeah?” He answered, his voice shaky.
“Okay,” Willow said, her own voice shaky as well.
Was she… nervous?
“Do you… like me too?” She asked.
Hunter’s entire face heated, and he knew it was bright red.
Oh, Titan— this was worse than when he’d blushed before. She was going to know!
“I—“ Hunter realized out loud, “Wait.. too?”
Willow nodded, “I like you, silly. And I was just wondering if you liked me too.”
“Oh,” said Hunter surprised, but he plucked up the courage to grab hold of Willow’s hands once more and look her in the eye, “Yes, I do, Willow. I really do. But I didn’t think you could like me the way that I like you. I didn’t think anyone could, with me being a…a—“
“A Grimmwalker?” Willow finished, “Hunter, anyone who is worth your time will recognize that you’re a person and not care about that. Yes, I wish I’d found out in a better way, but I will never care, because you’re you. I only… wish you’d told us before and we didn’t have to hear it from Luz. With you dying right in front of me. I think… I think that’s what made me realize just how much I care about you.”
Hunter could hardly breathe, stranding there with Willow�� kind, strong, beautiful Willow— before him. And she… she cared.
His insecurities told him it must be some kind of cruel joke. That it was too good to be true.
But deep down, he knew it wasn’t a joke. It was real.
So he smiled and placed a hand on her cheek.
And then Willow pulled him down, wrapped her arms around his neck, and kissed him.
Hunter thought his heart must have skipped a few beats as a million sparks went off inside of it. Somehow, he found the composure to kiss her back.
Hunter wasn’t sure how long it lasted— time seemed to blur before Willow pulled away.
“Oh, Titan—“ she laughed, her cheeks flushed, “I’m sorry, I just sort of sprung that on you and… I hope it was okay?”
Hunter laughed, “No worries. It was great.”
Willow beamed and placed her arms around his neck again. It was a little awkward since Willow was so much shorter than him, but they just sort of… stood there, soaking in the moment.
“Finally!” Gus shouted, running towards them before engulfing them in a group hug.
Hunter had forgotten they weren’t alone.
Camila, Luz, and Amity stood across the way with the most embarrassing, “isn’t that adorable” looks on their faces, and Hunter wanted to curl up and disappear.
But their smiles were kind of infectious.
“We’ve been waiting for weeks,” said Gus, his voice muffled by the group hug, “It’s about time!”
“Wait… you all knew?” Asked Hunter, genuinely perplexed.
“Hunter, the romantic tension between you two was so obvious you could cut it with a knife,” Amity deadpanned.
“Oh, Titan—“ Hunter put his face in his hands. He thought he might die— again— from the embarrassment
“Hey, don’t worry about it,” Willow patted him on the back, “I didn’t realize for a while either. Feelings are hard.”
Hunter chuckled in agreement.
“Yeah,” he agreed, “Feelings are hard.”
He grabbed her hand again, “But I’m starting to think they’re worth it”.
#the owl house#huntlow#owl house#toh#for the future#hunter#willow park#willow x hunter#hunter x willow#one shot#ftf spoilers#toh spoilers#light and friendship
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Biting Hands
When I go home tonight, there will be two towels stuffed underneath my bedroom door. I’ll go inside and shut it, and I will crouch down on the balls of my feet and I will not take off my shoes or put down my purse or check my phone until I am sure that the two towels under my door leave no space, not even for air to circulate. I’ll stand myself up again, my cheeks tainted light red, not pink, and every breath I take will elicit pain but it will dissipate.
I’ll try to fall asleep, but like most nights, I will start itching my legs, struggle to catch my breath, and I will find someone that doesn’t exist hiding behind my curtains. I will not fall asleep.
I am observant, so my first tactic will be to stand up, walk in a circle a few times, and go back to bed, because that’s what my dog does, and he’s a much more experienced sleeper than I am, even though I have a whole decade on him.
I would sooner compare myself though, to one of those really small, scraggly looking dogs at the pound. One that’s got the tear stains in its eyes, and it always seems to be shaking and trembling, and when you approach it, oh my god you will move on to the next dog before you even got a chance to read the name on its little placard. All it takes is an innocent hand reaching too close for comfort, and I will show my teeth and snap and howl until you leave, and I can retreat, rinse, and repeat.
Is it bad that I wish to be a pitiful little dog at the pound? They may scare people away sometimes with their relentless need to defend themselves, but at least you can count on the ones walking by that will take the time to drown out its yapping long enough to read the tragic backstory of abuse written on its cage.
Somebody will look into those tear stained eyes and not only feel sorry enough to take it home with them, but they will dedicate the time it takes to teach it how to trust. They will teach it that a human can use their hand reaching down to pet its head and not beat it senselessly.
Is there a sign up sheet for that or do I just have to print my own placard? Because if that’s what it takes I will, if it’s that easy, I will type up every excruciating detail, cut down trees with my bare hands myself because there could not be enough paper in the world to print out the essay I would have to write for the backstory behind the backbreaking labor required for me to not bite every single hand that tries to feed me.
I have bitten my cheeks to a bloody pulp trying to hold my tongue and swallow my fears for almost twenty years now but it isn’t enough. You can smell my distrust as soon as you’re close enough to tell me what color my eyes are, you can watch me startle at every sudden movement as if I’ve been fighting for my life by protecting my territory since I was old enough to stand on my own two feet.
Watch me shove two towels underneath my bedroom door every single time I open it and close it for weeks now all because I saw a cockroach in the living room, and I saw them everywhere in that house on Rotunda Road.
They climbed all the way up the carpeted stairs, sometimes flying through the air, but they found a way to get to me and nobody in that house could protect me. Not from a cockroach, not from a hand that liked to pick and choose when it would reach down and feed me and when it would reach down and make me sorry I forgot to lock my bedroom door.
When I go home tonight, there will be two towels underneath my bedroom door. I will go inside and shut it, and I will howl in agony at the moon looking down on me, desperately singing my song to anybody who will listen.
Howling with my tear stained eyes and my tail between my legs, begging to be heard, or maybe even just read, begging for a book of my backstory so I can stop scaring everybody away with words I never meant to say, hopelessly waiting for one person to look at me and not walk right past my cage but crouch down on the balls of their feet and realize that there is purpose to this pain I keep projecting.
There is a little girl who grew up in a house that scared her. And she has towels shoved beneath her bedroom door yet she calls herself a grown woman. If you don’t let the towels scare you away, you might find that there is a girl worth getting to know and she is inside that bedroom, but she is also, still inside that house on Rotunda Road, and she is doing her best to find her way out of there but it is not easy, because every time she thinks she found the exit she opens the door and she is trembling in the corner of her bedroom again like a dog at the pound, waiting for the next time she has to fight for her right to find peace.
When I go home tonight, there will be two towels under my door, and I will keep them there as long as I need to for the sake of preserving the sense of security nobody could give me. And if it is the last thing I do, I will fight tooth and nail and tail between my legs to stop biting the hands that could never hurt me like yours did.
#poems and quotes#poetry#poets corner#poets on tumblr#poetic#prose poem#spilled ink#original poem#book quote#daily poem#sad poetry#free write#creative writing#original writing#writerscorner#writeblr#prose writing#writerscommunity#writers community#female writers#poetry writing#writers and poets#writers on tumblr#writeaway#deep poems#short poetry#short poem#short story#short stories#storytelling
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