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chilling-seavey · 3 years

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Seasons Change (d.s.) - ONE

↳ A/N This one already holds a special place in my heart and it has barely even begun! Might be a bit slower on updates because I want to make sure it’s perfect for us all. Thank you to @stuffofseaveyy for your unwavering help with plotting this storyline out, @randomlimelightxxx for your excitement and help, and of course, @jonahlovescoffee for being my hype girl and the best mayor’s wife anyone could ask for ;)

↳ Summary: Everyone knows everything about everyone in this small rural town in east Connecticut and the handsome single father who owns the farm down the main street seems to always be the talk of the town. Balancing the care of his acreage, raising his school-age son, and coaching the local boys’ hockey team keeps Daniel busy; but his mind never strays far from the expansive and vibrant flower gardens planted outside his farmhouse.

↳ Word Count: 2520

↳ Warnings: This story touches on topics such as loss of loved ones and grief. Nothing too detailed but read at your own discretion x

If you weren’t looking, you would miss it. An hour-and-a-half drive east of Hartford, Connecticut rested a small town that barely occupied more than an intersection of space in time. On your way east towards state lines, a rectangular green sign half covered by an oak tree would welcome you to Lincoln – Population: 200. You’d leave the town before you even realized you were in it if you weren’t paying attention but maybe that’s how the locals liked it.

People moved to Lincoln to get away from the bustle of the city…it was full of those people who had ‘let’s ditch this town’ mindsets and set down roots in a section of the world where they wouldn’t be bothered. It was the type of town that lived in the lyrics of a country song: picture perfect homegrown peace where everyone knew everyone and everyone had a place. It was easy to know everyone in a town like Lincoln. Driving in from the city you would pass a white paneled church, a few small single storey houses with lengthy driveways, the red trimmed general store, a brick sided restaurant, a run down and rusted mechanic’s shop, and catch a glimpse of the small community center just past the park before being enveloped by the nothingness that middle-of-nowhere Connecticut was known for.

Not much happened in Lincoln – at least nothing that was worth noting. Sometimes a car would break down and a city dweller in a designer suit would find his way to the general store to ask for assistance or, more often, a coyote would be rumoured to be roaming at night but that was the extent of the excitement. The most exciting thing to do outside of day to day work was play hockey and it seemed to be the town’s pride and joy of a pastime. There was no such thing as ‘hockey season’ as hockey season was year round in the small town of Lincoln, Connecticut. The community center housed an ice rink that could be melted down to a basketball court but everyone stayed for the hockey. The Lincoln Lighting Junior and Senior leagues were usually the talk of the town. The school-aged boys (ages 7-13) played for the juniors and the later teens and most of the fathers played for the senior league. The captain of the senior league was the coach of the juniors and he owned one of the few farms a few paces north of the main intersection.

A father of one and the best hockey player Lincoln had ever seen, Daniel Seavey was more than one could expect from a small town man.

He wasn’t your everyday potato farmer with uneven tan lines or a body that housed more beer than muscle and, in fact, he was the talk and the eye candy of the town. At only twenty-nine, Daniel was the best of the best in Lincoln: best hockey player, best coach, best farmer, best guitarist, best father; and he had the sandy brown hair and sky blue eyes of a heartbreaker to top it all. At six feet tall, Daniel was slim and handsome, and yet had the muscles capable of running a farm and shooting slapshots like you wouldn’t believe. Daniel was quiet and polite and he innocently humoured the wives of the town as they flirted with him in front of their unimpressed husbands.

But no one could be mad at Daniel. Not when he was the first and only widow Lincoln had ever seen.

Marigold Seavey was twenty-six when she died in her bed at their farmhouse in the early hours of the morning. Her passing was the first major event to ever shake the town of Lincoln. Everyone knew everyone in this town and, that being said, everyone knew what a sunshiny soul Marigold was. Daniel, especially, seemed to have his light burnt out once she was buried behind the church at the corner of town. Some of the folks in town will tell you that the saddest sight they had ever seen was Daniel standing at the foot of his wife’s grave after the funeral with his six-year-old son holding his hand and the two of them crying silent tears into the fresh fall soil.

Despite Daniel’s quiet persona, he was strong and he knew he had to be for the sake of his young son. He couldn’t wallow in his grief for long since he had a son to raise and a farm to tend to and the generosity of the townsfolk certainly helped him to stay on his feet after his wife passed.

It had been a year-and-a-half since Marigold died. Daniel had just turned twenty-nine as March moulded into April and the winter chill was starting to fade into spring and the second birthday without her wasn’t any easier. The birthday cake baked by his neighbour wasn’t as delicious as Marigold’s classic lemon cake she would make him every year but he politely thanked the woman and dared not complain. Daniel would never complain over the niceties of the townsfolk.

That’s what came with living in such a small town; everyone had everyone’s back.

It was the first Sunday of April and the first truly nice spring day of the year. With a crisp breeze in the air, it was only just warm enough to discard the winter jackets and most of the town was gathered in the large backyard of the mayor’s house for the usual after-church brunch. On the colder Sundays, brunch was held in the main restaurant but everyone preferred to gather in the fresh air and over the crisp green grass of the mayor’s house as soon as the weather permitted.

The mayor’s house was the largest and had the most land outside of the farms that were just north of the main intersection in town. Jonah – known by the locals as such since he didn’t like the formality that came with the title of ‘Mayor Frantzich’ – and his wife Jocelyn kept a pretty house on the edge of the little town. They could be what you call the ideal small town family with two kids, a dog, and white picket fence – enough backyard space for it to be the perfect spot for weekly brunch.

The town children had space to play and stretch their legs after sitting for an hour in church and the yard was filled with the shouts from their games. The adults lingered around the yard in various little circles, nursing freshly squeezed orange juice in spring-themed clear plastic cups and talking amongst themselves.

Daniel did a lot of listening during Sunday brunches, standing amidst one of the groups of parents as they talked about school, clubs, and work. Marigold was always the chatty one of the two of them…without her, Daniel felt out of place.

“What about you, Daniel? Think the frost will be gone to break ground this week?”

Jack spoke first, a shorter man with unruly brown hair and enough tattoos to surprise anyone with the fact that he raised an apple orchard. He owned the farm beside Daniel’s and was one of his closest friends in the town.

Daniel thought for a moment and scuffed the toe of his dress shoe against the grass. The cold ground was still pretty solid and the chill in the air still had them all wearing blazers over their Sunday button-ups.

“Only if this cold front lets up.” Daniel answered. “I’m hoping to plough by next week at the latest.”

“Everything’s been going well with the farm and your boy?” Jonah asked, his hand tucked around his wife’s waist and he raised his opposite hand to his mouth to sip his juice.

Daniel shifted on his feet and gave a shrug, his eyes drifting past the group of parents to easily pick out his shaggy haired brunette son across the yard with the rest of the kids. At almost eight-years-old, Lennox was the light of Daniel’s life; his little hockey star, helping hand, and the one whom his late wife’s smile and spirit lived on in. It had been a hard year-and-a-half for the two Seavey boys but Daniel was relived that he could hear his son laugh again, his audible glee reaching to the far edges of the mayor’s property and to his father’s ears.

“It’s been…fine.” Daniel sighed, his eyes lingering on his son as he answered Jonah’s question, “Lennox has been doing well…his grades are better this year which I’m relieved about. I just…I already sold the sheep and half the chickens and the second cow last spring to try and tame some of the workload but it’s still a lot.”

“Running a farm on your own isn’t easy.” Jack said, “I know how much work it takes for two owners let alone one.”

“We’re here to help with whatever you need.” Corbyn assured him. “I can give you deals on whatever you need from the shop as often as I can.”

Corbyn owned the general store in the center of town and was the bachelor of Lincoln. It wasn’t like there were any women to date in such a small place full of cookie cutter rural families but Corbyn was very happy as he was: running the store and being the eyes and ears of the town.

Daniel shut down his generous offer politely as he looked back to his friends, “No, no. I don’t want that…thank you though. I’m just worried the garden will suffer. With so much to do with ploughing and planting and coaching…I don’t know how much time I’ll have for the flowers.” Daniel let his gaze drift back to his son playing across the grass, “Lennox is too young to tend to them himself but he loves the gardens so much so I don’t want yet another thing to disappoint him.”

“Have you thought of hiring someone?” Jonah asked.

“Like a gardener?” Daniel hummed, “I dunno.”

Corbyn sipped his drink, “Is it in the budget?”

“I think so.” Daniel shrugged, swirling his orange juice in his hand. “Never thought about it. Mari always took care of the flowers so…”

“I have a family friend who’s pretty good with gardens…I’m sure she’d be more than happy to help out.” Jocelyn offered.

Daniel chuckled under his breath, “That’s…a nice offer but I’m not looking to put anyone out of their way. They’re just flowers after all.”

But everyone knew that they weren’t just flowers to Daniel. They were Marigold’s flowers.

Jack tisked at Daniel’s hesitation, “Well if it’s in your budget to hire a gardener and you know the gardens are important to Lennox and yourself, then why not give it a try? You don’t have anything to lose.”

Jonah only added onto the argument, “She’s been wanting to come visit Lincoln for a while now. Why don’t we invite her to town and she can stay with us and you can give her a look over…if you think you want to hire her then you can.”

Daniel thought about it for a moment, taking a sip of his juice as his eyes found his son again. It was habit. Lennox was already running for him at top speed across the grass and Daniel set his cup down on the table just in time to welcome his seven-year-old’s energetic jump at him. He scooped him up with one arm and a tired grunt as he hiked him up onto his waist and Lennox held onto him around his neck, giggling as the other kids ran over after him.

“Daddy’s safe. You can’t get me.” Lennox told them matter-of-factly.

Daniel smiled proudly and linked his hands under his son’s bum to hold him up securely. At almost eight, Lennox was a bit heavy to hold but after nine years of farm work and working out for hockey, it wasn’t much of an issue for Daniel to hold him. He’d never complain regardless.

The other kids found their parents, gladly taking sips of juice or pieces of cut up fruit after a tiring chase around the yard. Jonah and Jocelyn’s seven-year-old twins found their way between them and helped themselves to the few snacks on the table. They were the closest to Lennox’s age – although a few months younger – and the boy of the set of fraternal twins was on the junior hockey team with him.

With the parents busy for a moment with their children – Jack was helping to fasten his daughter’s curly hair back in her headband – Daniel pondered the previous offer. His son rested his head against his with his small arms slung around his neck and Daniel could feel each of his gentle breaths rising and falling his chest. Everything Daniel did was for Lennox. He bit his lip.

“No rush.” Jocelyn said to him, reassuring their offer as if she could see his hesitation, “Just let us know.”

“Thank you.” Daniel said honestly.

“The Herron’s are coming over.” Corbyn whispered to the group and right away they shifted awkwardly as the family approached. Daniel let out an anticipatory sigh.

If you ever thought of jealousy, you would think of Zach Herron; father of two boys who weren’t very good at hockey and husband to a wife whose eyes liked to linger on Daniel’s biceps a little too much. Zach envied a lot of Daniel…maybe even envied him that his wife was dead. He would never admit that out loud though.

“Seavey.” Zach greeted as his family approached the group with his petite platinum blonde wife on his arm. He glanced around to the others, “And friends.”

There was a dull chorus of replies.

Zach continued, “I’m still willing to buy your horses off you. You know I have a generous price to offer.”

Daniel chuckled lightly, “Yes, I know. But the horses are not for sale and they never will be.”

“Daniel would sell his house before he sells those horses.” Jack said. The group laughed lightly at the truth behind that.

Lennox wiggled from Daniel’s arms and he set him down to join up with the two Herron boys who had just come over. The children gathered together at the other side of the table and chatted excitedly. Daniel picked up his orange juice.

“Daniel,” Zach’s wife set a hand on his bicep, her face filled with nothing but dramatic concern, “how are you holding up?”

“I’m doing fine, Katie, thank you.” Daniel replied politely.

She sighed, “It would just be a terrible shame to see your beautiful gardens go to waste; I overheard you talking about it from over there. Please let me know if I can help in any way.”

Zach’s annoyed scoff had Jack smirking into his orange juice. Corbyn and Jonah exchanged amused glances between themselves. Daniel offered Zach’s wife a small polite smile.

“That’s very nice of you to offer, but Jonah and Jocelyn already offered a family friend who’s in the business.” Daniel looked over at the couple again, with slight thankfulness in his eyes, “And I think I will gladly take them up on that recommendation.”

Seasons Change Taglist: @stuffofseaveyy @randomlimelightxxx @jonahlovescoffee @hiya-its-amber @hopinglimelight @midnightpsychic @sbrewer21 @bessonsbxtch @viamiasoncrack @the-girl-who-cried-wolf

Please click the link in my bio to be added to the taglist!

#🌼#daniel seavey #why dont we #jack avery #corbyn besson #jonah marais #zach herron #why dont we fanfic #wdw #daniel seavey fanfic #daniel seavey imagines

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gloryofluv · 3 years

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Traditionally Obscure Chapter 27

Bombs away!

Previous Chapter

How did it start? Well, the children of the estate were having a summer day of playing with water balloons, and Luke dragged her along. Soon Sasha and Elsa were in shorts and t-shirts, joining the fray. It was an all-out war, and Rosa was tucked behind a tree. Her shirt was dripping, and her hair was matted.

Vyn was resting in his room today, and Ester was watching from the patio. She commented on how youthful people needed to get rid of the summer heat somehow. Rosa was puffing and looked in the bag she was carrying her water balloons inside. She only had six left.

There was shouting of the children across the grass, and she watched as two of the children were chasing each other and throwing balloons. Sasha and Elsa came skipping out, tossing a few balloons at them. Rosa glanced over at the other tree to see Luke lurking. An impish smile grew on her face as she slunk down and waited.

Luke crawled out from his hiding place and began to aim toward the princesses. Rosa crouched and hurried closer to get him; however, it seemed again he knew where she was. He pivoted and rushed toward her scooping her off the ground.

“Luke, dammit!” Rosa screamed, and her water balloons broke in her bag, leaving her with the one in her hand.

He laughed and held her legs with her over one of his shoulders. “Free target!” He shouted.

“Luke!” Rosa snapped.

The children in the distance and princesses were laughing. Rosa could already estimate that her shorts were going to be soaked because of this. She struggled and flailed, allowing her to slid from his grip. He sidestepped quickly, and she missed him with her last water balloon.

The gasping around her wasn’t ideal as Rosa realized she hadn’t completely missed a target. Vyn was walking out toward them, and the water balloon hit him square on his chest. The white buttoned shirt stuck to his undershirt and collarbone. Rosa covered her mouth as her cheeks tinted.

“Dr. Richter! Oh, I’m so sorry!” She huffed and stepped toward him.

He glanced down and exhaled with a curl to his lips. “It’s fine, Rosa. I was just going to announce that Carl will be here within the hour.”

“Oh, is that the magician you were telling me about, Rosa?” Luke asked as he wiped his face on his shirt.

Rosa glanced at him and nodded. “Yes, it is. He’s pretty stupendous,” she paused and gazed down at her soaked clothing. “I suppose I better change then.”

Vyn rocked his head and gestured at his cousins. “You as well, cousins.”

Luke chuckled and shifted. “Well, it sounds like a good way to pass the evening. I’ve always wanted to poke around about how magicians do their tricks.”

Vyn smiled and tilted his head. “It’s about understanding your audience.”

The group of adults waved off the children, who continued their game, and they began pacing back toward the house. “How are you feeling?” Rosa asked.

“Much better. I can breathe today,” Vyn declared.

She pulled out the braid in her hair, and the wavy damp locks curled around her neck. “That’s great. Hopefully, you get some rest while we fly tomorrow.”

“I can’t believe you’re leaving already, Vil,” Elsa sighed.

“Yes, it feels like we’re going to miss you even more. Without Father, we won’t have someone reviewing our French or economics work,” Sasha grumbled.

Vyn tutted and shook his head. “You can always call me. We shall set time in the evenings during the week, and I have your tutor coming to the estate next week. Now that everything with your father has come to pass, it’s time to finish your education.”

Ester approached as they reached the patio. “Rosa, can we have an audience while you change?”

Oh? Rosa nodded and adjusted her soaked shirt. Ester beckoned her inside, and they walked together. It was odd and evident that she needed to speak to her, but why? It felt like there was another shoe about to drop.

The ladies traversed up the staircase to Rosa’s floor, and Ester straightened her dress. Rosa offered the Dowager Queen entrance before following suit and shutting the door. Ester sat down in the armchair as Rosa gathered her clothing from her larger bag.

“You wanted to talk?” Rosa questioned.

“Go ahead and change. I have some questions I need to be answered before you leave tomorrow morning,” she murmured.

The young woman smiled and went into the bathroom. Interestingly, even after her title shifted, she still remained in control of everything around her. Rosa had plenty of respect for Ester and was even more understanding of her now. Vyn may have gotten his temperament from his uncle’s teachings, but there was no down; he learned how to command a room from his aunt.

She had changed into a simple burgundy dress with her hair wrapped in a bun. When she entered the room again, Ester was staring at the flowers sitting on the dresser. There was a forlorn expression that breached her eyes—the declaration of missing a piece of her heart.

“What can I do for you today, Your Majesty?” Rosa asked.

The woman’s eyes cleared, and she glanced at her with a smile. “I wanted to talk to you about my nephew.”

Rosa’s eyebrows raised as her lips parted. “What about him?”

Ester shifted, and her eyebrows dropped closer to her sharp blue eyes. “I understand both of you will take this journey together however you choose to do so. However, do me a favor when you’ve returned to Stellis? Could you please be positive he has you to lean on?”

Rosa breathed as she sat down on the mattress. “I know he’s compartmentalizing. Yesterday I noticed that he nodded off reading his uncle’s letters. He said he missed him in his sleep.”

Ester touched her chest and bowed her head. “My sweet Vilhelm. He would let the world see him as unshakable if only to keep others safe.”

“You raised him. Tell me, does he ever want to take up the mantle as Edmar would have liked?” Rosa asked as she fiddled with her fingers.

Ester smiled and tilted his head. “What is your largest concern?”

“About his decision? Well, I suppose it has to do with the decision itself. If he chose duty over his passion, would he regret it? He wasn’t raised to be king, correct?” Rosa asked.

“He was raised to lead,” Ester shrugged. “I don’t think Vyn would choose anything without knowing in his heart it would be best suited.”

“Do you think he wants to?” Rosa questioned, and her eyes dropped a moment.

“Do you think he does?” Ester asked.

Rosa inhaled and shook her head. “I honestly don’t know. He keeps his plans so close to his chest. If he did want to, I think it wouldn’t be immediately. He would redesign everything about his research center, his patients, and his life as a whole. It would be a remapping of what makes Vyn Richter, himself.”

Ester’s head bounced, and she gestured to Rosa. “Would you support it?”

“I wouldn’t have a choice. It’s his life. I just want him to be happy. I would miss him terribly,” Rosa sighed, and her eyes moved to the vase.

“Do you plan on growing a serious relationship with my nephew?” Ester asked.

Rosa pressed her lips together as her cheeks darkened. “Maybe? We have plenty to go over when we get home. Things I didn’t know,” she stopped and shook her head.

“You didn’t know you felt?”

Rosa exhaled and agreed. “Yes.”

Ester smiled and pressed her hand to her chest. “I would like to share a story about Edmar. Care to listen?”

“Of course,” Rosa smiled.

“It was before we began to court, and I knew he would one day be king. I was rather on the fence about such due to my dreams of running my father’s companies. I wanted to take on his role eventually, and I was quick as a whip at business. However, Edmar was this beautiful and magnetic being with such a vast understanding of human life. I was enamored and was quite torn; if I became his wife, I would be giving up my liberties to run my father’s companies. If I declined him, he would leave my life forever and marry another,” Ester paused and closed her eyes with a smile on her lips.

“There was a beautiful moment I shall never forget, to my dying day. Edmar and I were walking my parents’ estate in France. The air had just turned chilly in the announcement of the coming season. He pulled out a stone from his pocket and handed it to me. When I asked what it was for, he declared that no matter where our lives take us or where my heart travels, I will always have a piece of Svart with me now. I knew at that moment, with him at my side, I could make the impossible possible… so we had,” Ester finished and dug into her dress pocket, producing a small stone.

Rosa beamed and exhaled. “That’s beautiful. Instead of asking you to be his, he released you with the knowledge that his heart would always be yours.”

“This stone doesn’t just signify the land or the man. His intentions were to declare that the memories and affection were greater than the need to ruin my dreams. My nephew will never ask of you to leave your dreams. He might be searching for different answers within questions. However, my suggestion to you, Rosa, is to take to heart what it means to have dreams as a child and dreams as an adult. What we think is the goal when we are younger becomes so much more. I secretly take care of my husband’s legacy, and the companies know why secrecy is so important. Eventually, when laws are changed, the roles in which we live will as well,” Ester finished.

Rosa licked her lips and scowled. “Are you suggesting he has thought about becoming king with me here?”

Ester laughed and raised her eyebrows. “Darling, did you not know that he’s enamored by you?”

Her cheeks truly couldn’t get any darker. “Well, it’s, we haven’t really talked about it,” Rosa sputtered.

“My final word of advice on my nephew,” Ester declared. “He will never expect you to have the answers you aren’t ready to share. He knows them. Edmar was very much like that, and Vilhelm used to be. However, where Edmar flourished, Vilhelm sought domination. The roads of love are difficult, and Vyn has yet to embark on such an experience.”

“Me either,” Rosa shook her head.

“That’s perfectly acceptable. Just remember he may understand, but he can’t give you the answers for your own heart. Be kind to your heart, even with your convictions,” Ester declared and stood up. “I imagine Vyn’s friend has arrived. I’ll let you finish up.”

Rosa stood and reached for Ester’s hand. “Thank you. Thank you for raising him to be compassionate as well as brilliant.”

“It was my pleasure,” Ester beamed and released her hand before moving to the door.

Rosa paced over to the head of the bed and picked up the button. She stared at the shiny object and thought back at Ester’s words.

When I asked what it was for, he declared that no matter where our lives take us or where my heart travels, I will always have a piece of Svart with me now.

Maybe it didn’t represent Svart, but something more. Vyn could have been suggesting with this that no matter where either of them was, she would always have a piece of him. As the theory swirled in her mind, she remembered the timbers of his voice and the smile on his lips. He was confessing his feelings, knowing she would eventually understand this—a simple button.

#tears of themis #tears of themis fanfic #tot fanfic #tot #tears of themis vyn #vyn richter #tears of themis mc #tot fluff #tot angst #tot vyn #tot mc #tot romance #royal society

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purplebass · 4 years

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The maturity of The Last Hours characters

I really don’t know how to name this, lmao. But yeah. In this post I will try to rate (?) the level of maturity of the characters from The Last Hours. I’m only analyzing the young people, if you want a post about The Infernal Devices characters or The Mortal Instruments characters (since I still have to read TDA to this day), I can also do that. But this post will focus on the “children”.

I don’t like using the word children for these characters because they are not children so to speak, but there are some characters which are more childish than the others. I tried to outline some characters to also show how they are mirroring each other. You’ll see how funny that most of the characters who share similar storylines may not like each other too much and may also not have the same maturity, but some of them are also each other’s love interests.

I apologize for the length of this essay, but I tried to cover every character.

First, a disclaimer: I don’t consider these groups I made as strict, because of course, you can’t rate a person’s maturity. This is just a way to show you the careful planning behind the characters and I’m just trying to organize them based on logic and observation.

The first “group” I’ll analyze is the one with the character I believe are the most mature, that we can also divide in “denied childhood” and “happy childhood”. In my opinion, in this group we have Alastair, Ariadne, Anna, Thomas and Jesse. They aren’t just the oldest, they are also the ones who have always acted maturely throughout CoG. What differs between the characters I cited above is their upbringing.

Rejected Children

Alastair and Ariadne always had to fight for their parents’ approval and Alastair also had to take his father’s place whenever he was “sick”. Alastair couldn’t live his childhood the way a normal child usually does. To add fuel to the fire we also have to consider the moment when Cortana rejects Alastair when Elias is also present: that’s the metaphor of Elias rejection of Alastair as his son. This also connects with the theory of Alastair not being Elias’ son and I already think Alastair has found out about this. Ariadne also has similarities with Alastair’s situation and mirrors his situation in the opposite way. Her parents were killed when she was young. She was adopted, yes, but I reckon that the Bridgestock family has also a lot of prejudices? And they also disapprove of Ariadne seeing Anna.

Alastair and Ariadne are the “rejected children” because despite they do everything in order to keep the harmony in their households (Alastair by cleaning after Elias and Ariadne by being a perfect smart lady), they always feel like they do not deserve to be loved, because their parents never make them feel truly loved or if they do, they don’t see it (because it’s evident to me that Cordelia loves Alastair very much and Sona does too, even if she doesn’t openly show it). On the other hand, they did so much as to agree to their family’s requests even if they didn’t want to, because that’s how what they believed they had to do in order to be loved.

Alastair’s first infatuation was Charles, with whom he fell in love but that he also idealized like he probably idealized his father. Alastair, who wanted to get Elias’ attention the most but also protect Cordelia and Sona from his father’s issues, fell for another man with a problematic ego like Charles. Ariadne’s first love was Anna, but Ariadne’s parents don’t approve of her. She is naturally well-liked by shadowhunters and downworlders alike because of her personality, her confidence. Ironic, but also not ironic, that Charles is the “link” between Alastair and Ariadne. Unlike Alastair who continued seeing Charles, Anna refused to keep seeing Ariadne after her engagement with Charles.

Both Alastair and Ariadne are mature people but they also have trust issues. They often see things in a negative way because that’s what they’ve been taught: no matter what you do, you are not valuable. You could know 30 languages but you’d still be useless. In Alastair’s case, I think we’ll soon see how Thomas, who is his love interest, will show him that he is worthy of love but he will also realize that is worthy of love, or he won’t be able to love 360°. In Ariadne’s, we saw at the end of CoG how she is going to show Anna that she’s going to win her back.

Anna and Thomas are the mature characters who had a happy childhood more or less. They grew up in a peaceful environment, with parents who always tried to do their best for them and who also showed them a lot of love. And their brothers and sisters as well are also very protective of both. Plus, they are cousins, which means that they are also protective with each other. But don’t think that they have it easier compared to Alastair and Ariadne, because they also had issues.

When Anna first realized that she didn’t like men and she also didn’t like to dress like a woman, and stole Christopher’s clothes, she tried to hide it. Why? Because as much as your parents seem lovely people and they also accept your wishes (like when Anna didn’t want to go to the Academy and she said she would become a mundane bullfighter if they forced her to go lmao), you never know what they would think about this. Anna, who loved her parents very much, preferred to keep her double life hidden from them. When her parents discovered she was genderqueer, they accepted her. I hope people realize how great this is, because at the beginning of the XX century many people had to lie to their family because they would never accept their daughter or their son going against the “respectability” of the time. Like I wrote on another post, you were considered devious if you were not straight. Anna didn’t want to burden her parents with the fact that she didn’t like men or wear pretty women dresses like society expected her to, but her parents were proud of her regardless. When Cecily discovers Anna’s orientation and gives her a suit as a gift, it’s the moment when Anna can truly be herself and she doesn’t care what the other people think, because that is herself. They either accept it, or they stay away from her. Anna is a very mature also because it’s hard to hear people whisper about you and spread rumors about the life you chose to live. She’s very brave.

Thomas is the last of three children, and his oldest sisters have always tried to protect him because he’s always been a sickly child. Remember that CC posted a cute Christmas story with Gideon and Thomas and Will and James where Gideon is concerned because his son didn’t seem to grow up like a normal child. This is why for years his family tried to protect him. They feared he could die, so Thomas was always under the watchful eyes of someone and he grew tired of this. He appreciated the attention but he also wanted to be alone, and after he got better and went to Spain after the Academy, he became stronger, more mature, and independent. Thomas is quite fatherly in my opinion, as that he is wise and kind, he always tries to see the positive in every situation.

Then we have Jesse. Like Thomas, Jesse was also protected by Tatiana and was a sickly child. In the Christmas story I mentioned above, we see how when Gideon sees Jesse, he reminds him of Thomas. Jesse is Charles’ age, but since he’s technically dead, he still has the body of a 17-year-old. From what we saw, it was evident that Jesse is a respectful person and that he is also selfless. He spent a lot of years in solitude and is a person with manners. Remember what Lucie says? “A ghost with a sense of property.” He also enters in the denied childhood group in my opinion, because as much as Tatiana seemed to have taken care of him and we see how she clings on his body to the point of trying to perform necromancy to bring him back, he also didn’t live a normal childhood. His mother never let him become a shadowhunter, she never let him meet his uncles, aunts and cousins. She never let him meet other shadowhunters. She probably never gave him proper education and all that Jesse knows he learnt it by reading books. Jesse is on the opposite side of the spectrum where Alastair and Ariadne are, but he’s also divided between his life (where he was very innocent and sheltered) and his death (where he matured because he could finally explore the world his mother denied him to see).

You see, aside from Jesse, it is no wonder Alastair, Thomas, Ariadne and Anna were paired together. Not only they are the mature characters, they are also mirroring each other’s journey: Alastair had a difficult childhood while Thomas was too protected. Anna had nice parents while Ariadne lost hers when she was little and her adoptive parents are probably racists and homophobes.

In the second “group”, which I called in the middle, there are characters I consider mature but also not. These characters have acted maturely in some occasions, while they were childish during other occasions. I’ll analyze the ones with happy childhoods first.

Unfiltered Childhood, Sheltered Childhood

James is often described as a responsible and shy guy. James hit the jackpot with his parents too, because we see how close he is with them and how they always support him whatever he does and try to protect him at the same time, when they can. But even James has issues, especially after he turned into a shadow in front of everyone when he was 13. This made him not only believe he is damned (“my father was cursed, whereas I am damned”). He was also bullied because he is part-demon, and he didn’t take this lightly, as we see every time, he risks to turn into a shadow he has a sort of panic attack. James is the older son and has the tendency to cover up for Lucie and all of his closest friends. Despite everything, we can say James had a happy childhood. He was wanted, he was loved, he was protected, but his parents also treated him as an adult and let him and Lucie into the rough stuff of their pasts, hence he had un unfiltered childhood. He knew about the gory details of life early on. In a short story Will gives James, who is 1-2 years old, a damn knife in his hands! If this isn’t someone who doesn’t use a filter with his kids, I don’t know what that is. I think that it was Jesse who was shocked to hear from Lucie that she knew about his grandfather turning into a worm. He didn’t think it was a story fit for kids. I believe that James is mature but he still has some things to face to really be mature, that’s why I put him in this group. But among the Merry Thieves, he is the second most mature, imo. He is the big wise brother. You could argue: and Christopher? I’ll explain later why Christopher is on another level of maturity, wait. Lol.

Cordelia is the second mature character from this group and she is opposed to James. Why? Unlike James who was exposed to reality from a young age and knew about things that a teenager probably shouldn’t know; Cordelia was filled with lies because her family wanted to protect her childhood and didn’t think she should know the harshness of life early on. We see when CoG starts how she’s still innocent and how she had a sheltered childhood. Not only because it will be the first time in years that she will be around other guys her age, but also because until Alastair tells her what he had to cover so that she would have a childhood, she was clueless. Literally. She had been treated like a little girl by Alastair and Sona, when Cordelia was probably able to handle the truth. Cordelia didn’t grow up in a bad environment – besides her father’s problems, which Cordelia was mostly left out because Sona and Alastair kept the secret – but we may discover more things in CoI. Anyway, Cordelia is mature for her age, and she stands up for herself even if it hurts, which isn’t an easy feat.

Denied Childhood

The last of this group is Matthew. Alastair gave him the nickname “Mother Hen Fairchild”. You guys don’t know much Alastair understood about Matthew by giving him this nickname. Matthew is wealthy, wealthier than the others, but this doesn’t mean he had a happy life. On the other hand, Matthew’s only lifeline was his father Henry. You can tell Matthew loves his father, tried to protect him, which is a cute thing to do, but at what expense? For one, his childhood. Matthew is a sociable person, loves to be around people, but when he grew up in Idris, the main thing he did was take care of Henry. I don’t think Henry asked him to do it, nor did Charlotte, but he took it upon himself to do so. After all, Henry is disabled, he really needs help and Matthew just wanted to show his father he appreciated him, but I don’t think he or Charlotte understood that as a natural helper, Matthew would also be drained by this activity. He also didn’t want to leave Henry alone when he left for the Academy, which is also a sign he thinks that one of the things he has to do in order to keep his family intact (especially after the rumor about Charlotte and Gideon) is to take care of Henry. He is indeed a “motherly” figure in the Merry Thieves and to his own father, to some degree. Because of this upbringing, it’s like Matthew never truly lived his childhood like a normal child. And now that he is 17 and is using alcohol as a copying mechanism, it’s like he’s already become metaphorically old, because at that time alcohol abuse was something you’d expect from a middle-aged man.

As you see, these three characters are also expected to be in a sort of triangle, even if we don’t know the extents of this relationship yet. But we’ll surely have a lot to see.

Partially Mature (Still Innocent to Some Degree)

I’m finally at the last group!!! YAY me. I hope you read so far. These are the characters I still consider innocent and that in CoI will have a bigger storyline and we’ll also see them become more mature and face more harsh reality.

Happy Childhood

The first person from this group is Lucie. Lucie is 16, just one year younger than her brother and her best friend Cordelia. Like James, Lucie has been exposed to the harshness of life from a young age, since her parents didn’t keep many secrets with her. But Lucie is still innocent to some degree, and adventurous like a child, but we see that she isn’t able to stay calm whenever things get out of hand and people (including herself) get hurt, because one thing is hearing stories, another is actually being part of those gory stories. First, she has never been in love. I know this sounds silly, but a lot of teenagers start seeing the world differently after they fall in love with someone, truly in love. I’m not talking about infatuation here. It’s also the first time after years of dead calm that London is plagued by a new enemy, which means it’s also the very first time for Lucie – unlike James and the Merry Thieves – to finally face the stories she’s heard from her parents and the fantasy stories she’s invented as a writer. Getting to know Jesse has helped, because he is a very mature character who is opposed to her because he had a very sheltered childhood and he learnt about life just when he turned into a ghost. Since Lucie is on the cover of CoI, she’ll definitely mature more in that book.

Christopher is also innocent. He is smart, he is way more intelligent than everyone imo, but he lives in his own world sometimes. He, like Lucie, had a happy childhood and was very protected by his older sister Anna and of course his parents. But he was also let on in the secrets of the Lightwood family (like the Benedict Lightworm story), so we can say to this point that he is innocent but he also is mature because he uses his logic to make decisions. Of the Merry Thieves he's surely the youngest son, because the other guys always look after him – especially Thomas. In CoI we will probably also see his maturity journey, because so far, he appeared very absent-minded, lost in his thoughts, always trying to come up with solutions to save other people, which is admirable. I think that besides as a plot device, the fact that Belial/Tatiana hurt him with demonic poison was also a way to make Christopher aware that he should also be ready to fight as a shadowhunter other than cultivate his passion for science. I mean, he’ll probably have moments where he could use (like Henry in TID) what he invents as a useful tool in battle.

Denied Childhood

Last but not last, we have Grace. Grace is in this part of the spectrum because she is still very innocent, since she’s lived most of her life brainwashed by Tatiana/Belial. The person we see is not probably the real Grace, but a mannequin. She is also smart because her engagement to Charles was a way to escape her mother’s manipulation, but until she came to London, her whole life has been sheltered, Tatiana has told her lies, has molded her the way she wanted Grace to act as a mean to her revenge. Grace has suffered the same gaslighting Tatiana suffered from Benedict Lightwood, except Grace is aware of this and is trying to find ways to escape. Spending time with Ariadne and Lucie will only make her more conscious of who she really is, but it will be a long way because she still seems like a frail flower sometimes. She also seems not to have received training, so she’s even more in danger. CoI will probably feature a new side of Grace, and we’ll see her throw her innocence away (well, not literally, guys) and be more self-aware.

If we were to follow the logic I used so far, we’d see that Christopher and Grace might become love interests. If we look at the structure of the plot and of the couples we have so far, they are opposites but also similar. I know that many people don’t like Grace, but I believe that if she gets an arc where we see how she can give as a character, she may grow on us. Anyway, mine is just an assumption, I can be wrong. As for Lucie and Jesse, it’s only fitting the that the partially mature character and the character who wasn’t mature when he was alive and who became mature when he died, are going to be each other’s love interests. They are half-away. It’s only fitting because Lucie can also “call” ghosts who are still stuck in the living world (in the middle between life and death): understand what I mean?

Ok, I think I can close this essay by saying thank you for reading so far! But also, if you have ideas or comments etc, you can write in my ask box. As you see, I like to discuss about characters and plots, so I’m happy if you shot me a message, even in anon.

#alastair carstairs #thomas lightwood #anna lightwood #ariadne bridgestock #jesse blackthorn #james herondale #cordelia carstairs #matthew fairchild #lucie herondale #christopher lightwood #grace blackthorn #tlh #the last hours #chain of gold #chain of iron #chain of thorns #tsc #the shadowhunter chronicles #my edits

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darkhymns-fic · 3 years

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Grief and Love Shapes Us

When Kratos stays at Dirk's home, unable to follow the others to battle Mithos, he fully realizes the wisdom of the dwarf with the gentle hands of a craftsman - and Dirk is reminded how freeing it is to open one's heart.

Fandom: Tales of Symphonia Characters/Pairing: Dirk/Kratos Aurion, Lloyd Irving Rating: G Mirror Link: AO3 Notes: I was part of the Tales of Rarepairs event, arranged by @talesofexchanges! This was written for @theguineapig3! Thanks so much for this fun event. :D

“Already noticed the flowers wilting, haven’t ya?”

Ever since the man named Kratos visited his home, Dirk had already had his suspicions. The mercenary didn’t flinch, instead simply turning towards the dwarf who walked towards him and the gravestone. The white lilies on its well-tended grounds had already lost a few petals to the poor weather.

“Pardon me,” Kratos said, stepping back to allow the dwarf some room. “I did not mean to trespass onto your property like this.”

“Ah, maybe next time you’ll succeed in being a bit stealthier then.” Dirk gave a great grin as he said so, and the look of confusion that passed over Kratos’ face was so stark that it nearly made him laugh as well. But in just that particular shade of the moonlight, and the way it bounced off the man’s hair, Dirk could see those familiar features. Such details had grown under his eye for over a decade.

He replaced the flowers over the stone, feeling Kratos’ eyes track his every motion, a great weight felt within the silence paused between them.

“You knew the boy’s mother?” Kratos asked him, and in that tone, perhaps he hadn’t realized just how much he had revealed just then.

“For a short time – enough to give me her name and Lloyd’s.” Dirk stood back up, the dying flowers held in his thick hands, cradled carefully, for they still had their own uses in the garden. “All these years, I had a small worry if I had carved it correctly. Sometimes human names still go past me.”

A small thread through the night, seeking and gentle. Dirk only dared a brief glance towards Kratos before the human turned away, his steps as fleeting and light as a deer who had come upon something too close, much too close.

“It is,” Dirk heard. He let out a breath he had not realized he had been holding.

Perhaps from a certain standpoint, he could admit when one was being reckless. Lloyd had given him that depth of knowledge more than anyone else.

Kratos winced as he tried to move his leg, and from this other certain standpoint, he could see that it was a mistake. “Urgh…”

“What did I say about moving?” he heard echo from the hallway. Dirk opened the door to the room as he held a platter in his arms, with what looked to be a wooden bowl along with a mug of hot tea on its surface. “More likely to keep that leg splintered if you go rushing off.”

“I was doing no such thing,” Kratos argued, and wondered why he had to come off sounding like such a petulant child. “I was merely trying to get comfortable.” Another shift as the bed underneath him creaked. “I don’t think this bed suits my stature.”

“Aye, and it barely suits Lloyd either. Boy kept outgrowing how fast my hands could even build!”

Kratos leaned back, hitting his head smack dab in the center of the headboard where one potted plant was still placed. “I see…”

Though it was not only the bed, but everything else in this home that had been built by such steady hands, he realized.

This place was simply a wooden structure on the outskirts of Iselia, entrenched within a clearing in the woods, but it was only now that Kratos had ever truly gotten a view of what such a home was like. Where the sunlight pierced through the open balcony doors, where the leaves rustled during the night, like whispers in sleep.

It was oddly nice, to just sit here, in a simple place, and worry only about just how the sun would hit his eyes as he rested. That is, when he didn’t keep knocking over the plants that were next to him…

Luckily, his host paid no mind to such accidents, instead taking the wooden chair placed next to a work desk and bringing it closer to the bed. “This is no potluck surprise, but the broth should get rid of any chills you might be having.”

The scent of chicken and spices permeated the air, and somehow, it instantly made him more relaxed. Perhaps it was combination of the room he was in, along with the assortments of potted greenery. Dirk had insisted the man stay in this room, though he was worried as to how Lloyd would feel about such a thing.

“You know Lloyd would insist you rest up here too,” Dirk had told him once, right out of the blue. Kratos had not voiced such thoughts, yet the dwarf’s words gave him a relief he dared not even confirm. And perhaps, after giving Lloyd his sword, maybe his son would not mind him using the only bed in the home that was even close to holding his frame.

He brushed such things aside. Dirk was still holding the food, as patient as the ancient trees in the backyard.

“Thank you,” Kratos finally said. Sitting up was at least slightly less awkward then laying down, though he thought he felt his back creak from the effort. The dwarf placed the platter over his legs, not disturbing even a fraction of the hot liquids in their respective containers. Once again, the scent seemed to instantly relax him.

Kratos reached for the bowl of soup – but Dirk got to it before he could.

Confusion was plain on his features until he saw the dwarf dip a polished wooden spoon into the broth, then bring it near his face. “Careful, blow on it first.”

Oh, he was not this bedbound though…

“I promise you, I can feed myself quite well,” he argued, trying to sit up straight and ignore the fact that his legs nearly shifted the tray a few inches too far to the right. “It is only my leg that is injured, not my arms.”

Dirk chuckled. “Ah, can’t even spoil an old dwarf, can ye?” But the dwarf conceded, placing the spoon back into the brothy depths. “Just brought old memories of when Lloyd would be sick as well.”

Kratos could not completely curb the mixture of both jealousy and embarrassment in his mind, and cleared his throat well before he spoke again. “I am not so grievously ill, mind you. Simply a tenacious injury…”

“Brought on by my son,” Dirk finished. “It’s not surprising. That boy will never know when to give up. He once insisted on doing all of my woodcutting when I was finishing up a job for a client.” The dwarf shook his head, but laughed at the memory that only he could see. “Even I was surprised he was able to do all of it! Though he was foolish to not wear his work gloves during that time.”

Kratos listened aptly to such a story, questions rising in his head all the sudden. How old was Lloyd then? Had he stopped asking about his parents? Had he learned to call Dirk his father so readily?

But he didn’t, simply nodding. “Then it was a very good ideal you’ve taught him.” Though still, his leg was quite stiff, and the sword that had cut such a wound on him had been done so expertly. Had it been Lloyd’s skill? Or the power of his special Exsphere? Even now, Kratos still wondered… and then such thoughts fell away once Dirk cleared his throat.

“I taught him another ideal that I think you should be learning yourself.” He gestured at the tray still over Kratos’ legs. “Eat up and be well-rested.”

Ah, to be chided by another adult was quite embarrassing. But few times had Kratos felt so caught off-guard, and all by a dwarf’s well-meaning words and a smile that could only barely be seen through a thick beard.

“I will. I just-” But even the simple act of reaching for the spoon seemed to be a monumental task. The stiffness from his leg seemed to travel up his side, to grasp at his shoulders and make his fingers twitch. He groaned, exerting all he could to keep his body in place and not knock over the tray to the ground.

It made such little sense to him. He had only been injured at the calf. Why was his whole body betraying him like this? Another shift, and the mug upturned, spilling tea all over the tray. “Damn…”

But Dirk was quick, belied by his stature. A towel was already in hand as he went to pat away the liquid before it could trickle onto the bed. The mug was already in his right hand as he took it away. “There, no harm done. Even if the tea had spilled further, ya wouldn’t have been burned. No use brewing a cup that ya can’t even drink.”

Kratos said nothing at first, shame keeping him bound before it was enough. “Forgive me. It seems I’m more injured than I thought.”

“Luckily one of us is the better thinker here then,” Dirk chided, but with another smile thrown his way. “This is what happens when you try to go it alone, you know.”

The words flew over Kratos’ head so swiftly, that he could feel their metaphorical flightpath just through his hair. “I don’t follow…”

“Let me put it another way then.” Dirk placed the now clean mug on the work desk. There were the leavings of a tools over its surface; a box full of jewelry parts, a discarded chain, and half-cut gems, as if their crafter had been in a rush to leave, forgetful in putting them away properly. “Why do you think Lloyd was able to defeat you?”

Whether Dirk was asking him such a thing to humor the dwarf, or if there were any true wisdom here, Kratos couldn’t decipher. That, and he was still feeling rather exhausted. “Because… he has grown strong.”

Dirk shrugged. “Aye, you’re not wrong. But it’s not only that.” The dwarf raised a bushy eyebrow at him. “Come now! Isn’t it something you’ve taught Lloyd yourself?”

How lost Kratos was. Or maybe it was the way the dwarf was positioned, his broad arms crossed over his chest, sitting up straight and looking as thick as a mountain where not even the most furious Desian could throw him down. Perhaps, he was distracted by that gentle air of dignity then anything else.

“The lad would complain about that to me when he would come home.” Dirk then uncrossed one arm to clap the man’s shoulder with a rough pat. “Don’t overdo it.”

Of course Lloyd would vent about such a comment. Kratos sighed. “I only said such things so that he would be more careful…”

“And since when does such comments not apply to yerself?” Dirk shook his head, but with a familiar motion, with a wisdom that Kratos had eluded for thousands of years. “You have been going through so much alone. It is too much for just one man to bear. But Lloyd is smart enough to know that you need more than just yourself to get through life.”

Being rendered speechless was a bit of an understatement, yet Kratos couldn’t deny the truth ringing through Dirk’s voice. “I had no choice,” he excused.

“As I said before, Kratos, your determination is admirable.” The dwarf sighed, placing his hands on his knees. “But, that is why I have said ever since you’ve arrived, you must rest, and you must rest well.”

It was difficult to argue against. It wasn’t only the injury keeping him bound, he knew though he tried to deny, but of bone-wearying fatigue that had been weeks in the making. Of long days and nights searching for the materials to craft an ancient ring, of careful wording in his throat to avoid the suspicion of Mithos, of Lloyd, of everyone else. He had traveled to both worlds more than he had ever done in the last four millennia.

He was tired. So very tired.

Perhaps if Kratos hadn’t shed all his tears on that night over a decade ago, he would have done so now. But he felt Dirk’s gentle gaze, felt no judgement in them, despite everything that had occurred. He stared at the breakfast tray and at the soup that was no doubt growing cold. “It is a beautiful place you have here.”

He could hear the dwarf’s smile in his tone. “I put much pride into my work. When Lloyd finally settles to make that boat of his, I said I would help him with it.”

So he knew of that dream as well? Of course he would, for he was Lloyd’s true father. Even as he felt envy at that, he felt relief as well. “I will look forward to when it is complete then.”

“Ah, enough about that. Now will ya be finally eating or what?”

“Well, of course,” Kratos said, but how could he exactly? His hands still shook a bit.

He already predicted the answer before Dirk reached for the spoon once again, taking it in rock-steady hands.

The dwarf’s grin could be seen through his beard. “I promise ya, I have many years of experience.”

“I don’t doubt that…” Kratos said with defeat. “Don’t I still need to blow on it?”

“Of course. Unless you’re asking me to do it.”

Something about the image flustered Kratos just a tad. “No, no, I can…at least handle this.” Must I really be treated like a child?

But once Kratos finally conceded, it hadn’t truly been the worst. Despite still being a head shorter than him, Dirk held the spoon at perfect level each time it was brought to his mouth. The soup was only slightly less hot, warming him enough to make him feel sleepy. Or was it all of his years, catching up to him finally, after living for much, much too long?

Maybe Dirk had advice for such a thing, being long-lived himself. But it would be much too silly to ask.

“Good, ya even finished the whole thing!” Dirk spoke with pride as he placed the spoon in the empty bowl. “Now I can see where Lloyd gets it from.”

“I normally don’t eat so quickly…” Though that was all that Kratos would argue about, also a bit surprised at how famished he had been.

Then, something unexpected. He felt Dirk’s hand brush through his hair, firm but gentle. The slight pull relieved the tension in his skull, and the warmth he felt from such fingers made him lose his train of thought for an impactful moment.

He caught the rare flash of surprise on the dwarf’s face before the hand left him. “Ah, sorry about that,” he apologized with a soft chuckle, the kind that reminded Kratos of the distant boom of thunder from a short summer storm. “Old habits. Always gave Lloyd a pat on the head for finishing his meal.”

That would explain his appetite, but Kratos kept that to himself, not out of any worries. More so because he was still trying to process the feel of Dirk’s callused palm over his skin. “Think nothing of it. Thank you.” He cleared his throat, watching as the dwarf took the tray and mug, and left the room, keeping the door half-open in case the man needed to call out to him as he worked.

And yet…how could one man tell another that a touch from him made him feel oddly comforted? Kratos fell asleep with such a question held inside his heart.

Dirk had always felt more at ease with his hands, aged as they were. From forging broadswords to carving out the ancient runic structures on metal, he had kept them steady. So, of course, holding a spoon to feed another was simple to him.

Yet Kratos’ eyes had been very distracting.

Ah, but he was being foolish, and it was always said that dwarves such as he, of those who favored wood over iron (despite how well he handled both) were of the gentler sort. Or perhaps he needed to be, to care for a human child he had found hidden within the protective curl of an injured creature. One’s nature can always shift, always grow.

After washing the bowl and mug, Dirk went on to continue with his chores. The logs out in back still needed cutting, and Noishe’s stable also needed a bit of cleaning, with more fresh hay to give the poor whining dog a bit of comfort since Lloyd’s absence. After traveling as much as the he could with Lloyd, Noishe had finally reached a point where it would have been too dangerous for him to continue going.

That was what was Dirk’s home was filled with – two old men and a dog, who could only give Lloyd their best as he went forward on his journey. Yet still, was it not important to keep a home steady for when their son would return?

At that thought, Dirk paused in mid-action – a trowel in hand as he had been moving the soil from the garden that was at the front of his home. “Our son, huh,” he said, and true, Kratos was his father, and Dirk considered him a father to Lloyd in his own right. But hadn’t what he thought just now sounded as if they were married? Now, that was just silly.

It was almost too perfect when he heard the creak from the stairs inside the house, and the soft call that followed. “Dirk? Are you…?”

“Outside doing some gardening!” he boomed back, knowing that was more than enough for the man to hear. Though, he seemed to recall a story from Lloyd on how angels could hear much too well… Hopefully, he hadn’t just blown out the other’s eardrums just now.

Through the half-open door, Kratos appeared, walking with a slight limp, dressed in his shirt and trousers, his cape long discarded once he had stayed here. He gazed down at the dwarf doing just what he had said he was doing, so why the surprise on his face?

“Still not resting your leg, I see,” Dirk intoned with a smile. He was kneeling beside the garden bed, already abandoning the trowel to start using his gloved hands once the soil was loose enough. “You can’t rush yourself.”

He thought a caught a flush on Kratos’ cheeks, and the sight only made him smile more warmly, happy to have witnessed what he was sure was a rare sight. “My Exsphere heals my body more quickly than most. I am fine to walk for a little.”

“Got tired of being cramped on that bed?”

“…It is quite small for me.”

Dirk couldn’t resist a chuckle leaving him, but it felt good to have it bubble within his chest. The lilies in front of him stood out starkly against the dark soil, but some were entwined with the weeds that had snuck in and took root. Though it was more difficult than he expected, Dirk moved his focus from Kratos to the flowers that needed his care.

“There’s a small trail out in the back if you would like to get some fresh air. Monsters don’t come by at this part of the forest if you’re worried about such a thing.”

“I gathered it was more than safe here,” Kratos said, his gaze shifting to the trees and their outreaching boughs that just brushed against the rooftop. “Noishe wouldn’t be sleeping soundly otherwise.”

Another chuckle that was a bit harder than the last. “Ha! So you do have a sense of humor about you.”

The flush from Kratos was another reward on its own. “I didn’t really mean that as a joke…”

Dirk tried to refrain from teasing the man, but it proved to be too tempting. He still continued his work on the garden, dirt staining his elbow as he shifted plenty to get at a particularly stubborn weed – when he felt Kratos’ presence right next to him. This was followed by the man's knees creaking slightly from the strain.

"What have I said about pushing yourself?"

There was a pout – one that echoed such familiarity that Dirk already had another reprimand on his tongue. “I assure you I am feeling better. Besides, I am allowed to be curious.”

“Never weeded a garden before then?” Dirk chuckled. Gloved hands shoveled the dirt to get at the invasive little plants, their roots holding firm into the ground. “Even angels such as yourself must look at the earth every once in a while.”

“Well… my particular angelic role as kept me preoccupied.” A clearing of the throat as he looked at what Dirk was performing, fascinated by something as simple as gardening. “And even when I wasn’t one, I never found the window for such an opportunity.”

“A window? All ye need to do is look at the ground and start planting.” Dirk shook his head. Sometimes, humans still baffled him exceedingly. “No need to overcomplicate things.”

Kratos didn’t answer him. Instead, the man kept looking at the plants, eyes rapt on the lilies, petals hanging from the stem like arms reaching out.

“I would, like to help, if I may.” Kratos cleared his throat, looking as shy as if he were a child, caught in a secret he wasn’t sure if he should share. “These are for her, aren’t they?”

Dirk weighed on it, though it was not the answer he was pondering. He had already decided Kratos would help the moment the man had come outside, sensing his unspoken request. But with a nod, he then reached to grab a pair of gloves from his pockets and handed it to him.

“First, you must use the tools necessary. Calluses from sword work and from gardening are quite different.”

Kratos only hesitated a moment before he took them, and Dirk couldn’t help a strange sense of pride then. It was familiar again, this feeling of helping another. Lloyd had also been eager to try his hand at his work before boredom would strike him. Hopefully, Kratos would stay more invested.

“These dandelions are particularly nasty little things. Ya can only uproot them with your hands, and ya need to do so carefully. Already they’re trying to take up the other flowers’ space.”

“I see…” Kratos answered, as he tried to mimic what Dirk was doing but with halting motions. He grasped at one dandelion, the seeds already blowing and getting caught in his hair without him noticing. “It should be simple to-” He pulled, stopped, and creased his brows.

Dirk grinned. “Weeds stronger than an angel?”

“I am just… not at my full strength.” Another shift, but the roots stayed attached to the dirt. It was with a particular twist that Kratos finally got the dandelion out, more of the seeds floating away on the breeze. He half stumbled on his knees, but Dirk quickly reached out, grasping the man by the shoulders to keep him steady.

A pause, more than a few seconds of breathing, and then the dwarf reached out to brush the dandelion seeds out of Kratos’ hair, its auburn shade always echoing that familiarity.

“…Horticulture has never been one of my talents,” Kratos admitted, looking everywhere he could.

Dirk could only smile, feeling comforted at the shyness of it all. “Ya can be decent with some practice.”

Kratos did keep trying, rooting up the rest of the dandelions along with Dirk, and then following along as the dwarf took up a few pots to place some full-bloomed lilies within. He gave them to Kratos, no words exchanged, and gestured the swordsman to follow him to where the grave was. Noishe was already there, curled up around it, enjoying the heat of the sun beating over his fur.

Healing can take so much time, Dirk thought, watching Kratos place the flowers on the ground, watched the motions done so more easily, a calmness that had not been there before. But we all go at our own pace, don’t we?

It was at the age of ten that Lloyd had been the most mischievous he’d ever been, much to Dirk’s surprise.

By then, calling the dwarf his father was done so without any pause or hesitance, even when those in Iselia questioned so. It was with that same surety that he called Noishe his dog, the great creature three times larger than any dog that lived within the village, with fur as verdant as the hills they lived in.

But this was also when Lloyd had been more daring, sometimes sneaking the sacred Chosen away from her church lessons to play sword fights in the woods just outside of Iselia’s gates, or when he’d readily tell Dirk he had done all of his homework and then rush down the pathway towards Genis’ home to ask for help with such things. A time of evading chores, of staying up late to work at a project that took stock from the gems in Dirk’s workshop, or simply to seek out discoveries – for Lloyd, despite his energy, also got bored so very quickly.

That tendency to seek and disobey Dirk had seen in plain sight when he caught Lloyd in the dwarf’s room. It was a simple room, with just a bed, work boots placed to the side, and a cabinet off to the side with dwarven letters inscribed over its surface. Lloyd was holding precious papers in his hands, reading through them thoroughly as if suddenly he enjoyed the written word for the first time – all while the cabinet he had just lockpicked stood half open.

“Lloyd!” Dirk shouted, and all the papers went flying out of Lloyd’s hands, like a flock of birds heading towards the sunset.

“I-I didn’t do anything!” Lloyd swiveled around on his feet, half-leaning from a stumble he quickly saved himself from. “I was just… Um…”

The letters stayed uncrumpled at least. Dirk sighed, crossing his arms as he watched the boy fidget underneath his gaze, the scrape from an earlier tumble through the brush still plain on his face. The light from the gas lamp placed on the wall hook cast flickering shadows all around the room – his room. Not that Lloyd wasn’t allowed to be in it, but snooping around the corners was another matter entirely.

There were words that hovered on the dwarf’s tongue, ones that echoed for when Lloyd wouldn’t finish the vegetables off his plate, or when he didn’t wake up in time to get to school. But his eyes kept straying to the papers with their curved handwriting, the dates on them calling to his heart with a plethora of memories that felt as warm as the sunshine on his back when he cut the wood for the fireplace.

Dirk then bent down to pick up the papers, thumb lingering on a word he had brushed over by chance before reaching to another. Lloyd stood in silence, and that silence might as well have been as loud as the boy’s shouts when he’d practice his sword skills.

Then a small creak of the floorboards. Lloyd was on his knees, reaching for one paper that had slyly flew underneath the dwarf’s bed. “H-Here. Uh… sorry…”

Dirk gratefully took the letter from Lloyd, looking over the signature on the bottom with a fondness. He knew he should be disciplining Lloyd right now, but it was hard to do away with the smile.

“I’ve not seen these in several decades,” Dirk mused aloud, shaking his head. He slid the letter along with the rest. “It’s a wonder the parchment hasn’t turned to dust yet.”

He could tell that poor Lloyd was confused. Hands on his knees, he looked to the letters with the same curious gleam in his eyes as when he did so just moments before, reading the words underneath the flickering glow of the lights. At least from this, he now knew all those lessons on dwarven languages hadn’t been for nothing.

Dirk had to ask. “So, how much do you even understand?”

Lloyd started, eyes as wide as the gems he’d just started working with. “I didn’t read much! I swear!”

A few moments passed, Dirk as patient as stone. Lloyd fidgeted again, doing his best to not let his mouth betray him. “Okay, I read like five pages… This Deagen guy doesn’t write like the textbooks that we read in class.”

Ah, how long had it been since Dirk heard his name aloud?

“He was always a very spirited writer,” Dirk confessed. He chuckled, shuffling the letters once more. “Had a talent for the pen over the pickaxe, but it was one of the things I’ve loved him for.”

After reading through so much, even Lloyd must have gathered what the letters truly meant, and why they had been locked away in a soft leatherbound skin, to keep the sun’s rays from fading away the ink.

“So I was right! He was your husband, wasn’t he?” Lloyd grinned wide, as if he had just solved one of life’s greatest mysteries. “I thought so!”

“Very confident in that statement now, are we?”

“But it’s true!” Lloyd wouldn’t back down, eyes brighter than the fire in the forge. “It’s why you sometimes wear that ring when you’re working. How come I’ve never met my other dad?”

Oh, Lloyd was already dreaming and wondering, and Dirk almost felt cruel to bring such dreams back to humdrum reality. Yet to think he had noticed the ring, an old comfort for the dwarf that was hard to let go of. “Well, you are half-right, lad.” He nodded, getting to his feet while clasping the letters in both hands. “He was meant to be my husband – but he was only my betrothed.”

He could see the surprise on Lloyd’s face, but some things must be done first. Going to the cabinet, he placed the letters in their leather skin, tied up the string around it, then placed it back inside, along with old trinkets, old photographs, old friends that could not be brought back. There was a soft click of the cabinet lock mechanism working as he shut it away.

“Sickness took Deagen before we could make our vows.” The dwarf rolled his shoulders, flexed his fingers – yet the smile remained on his face all the same. “But even in his final days, he would still write to me such poetry.”

“Oh…” He heard Lloyd’s soft intake. Once facing him, the boy looked flustered then, scratching the front of his scalp in nervousness. “Sorry, I didn’t know… The ring made me think that…”

A soft pat on his head by the dwarf’s great hand. “I should have answered your questions sooner, Lloyd. Sometimes, I still grieve, and the grief stays for too long.” He shook his head. “Despite it being over a century or more…”

“Whoa…and you still kept what he wrote to you?” Lloyd’s own reluctance was quickly being blown away, finding the opening to dive in and learn all that he could. “Did you write him back? I didn’t see any letters from you!”

“Aye, well that’s because he had them. That is the point of a letter, after all.”

“So you did write to him! About what?!”

Dirk made a show of thinking on the question, all while Lloyd looked up to his dwarf dad (that he was close to outgrowing), his feet shuffling on the floorboards in his excitement.

“I’ll tell ya… If ya do the gardening chores for the next three weeks.”

“What?! But that’s so much!” Lloyd pouted. “No way!”

“And no more lockpicking. Or are ye going down the path of thievery?”

“But that’s not fair! I didn’t lie-” Lloyd stopped, remembering what had just happened a few minutes ago. “Okay, never mind…”

All young children are curious at heart, and Lloyd’s heart was filled with it – and it was only right for a parent to nurture his child’s curiosity.

“You’ll really tell me then?” Lloyd asked, as if binding Dirk to a sacred promise.

The dwarf would treat it as such. “Of course. Gives this old man an excuse to talk for hours.”

When Lloyd was home, suddenly the previous quietude of the home felt more energetic. No longer was it just the sounds of Dirk’s hammer clanging away over the anvil, of Noishe’s soft whining on his lap when he visited Kratos in the room, or of the rhythm of bird chirping from the branches overhead. Lloyd stomped over the stairs as he rushed to pack his belongings, as he greeted Dirk each time he passed him by the forge, as he moved with renewed motivation for another journey out into the world.

Kratos, meanwhile, sat at the dining table, content to watch his son already make his decisions. As he would need to do so himself. His leg had healed up, in part by his Exsphere, but also by Dirk’s care.

Yet he wondered if it was more due to the latter…

“Krato- Uh, I mean, dad.” Lloyd ran up to him, still stumbling over the word that was both familiar yet not. But the effort was appreciated. “Here, I meant to give you this, since you have to go… It’s a wooden charm! Presea helped me out with the design a little, and since you’re giving me your pendant, I figured… well, you know.”

The gift was unexpected, but Kratos held out his hand to accept it – a polished piece of wood, set in the shape of a seed, with curves and sigils carved into its surface. A long piece of twine looped through a makeshift hole at the top of the charm, creating an intricately made necklace. Lloyd scratched his cheek, looking slightly nervous but eager all the same.

“You can adjust it to fit around your neck or wrist if you wanted! But, you don’t have to wear it at all, I mean.”

Kratos smiled. Even as his first instinct of denying he was not worthy of such a gift resurfaced (old habits), he instead tried to learn acceptance of himself. “Lloyd, thank you. It is more than enough for me.”

The pride on Lloyd’s face was nearly so infectious, a grin that sported a brightness matching the sun. “Hehe. I can help you put it on!”

Well, perhaps Kratos could go about acceptance a bit more slowly then. “Ah, I can do it myself-”

“Ay, now that’s nonsense.” The thick-accented voice of Dirk reverberated throughout the household, followed by his stomping footsteps. Even so the dwarf was at his side in barely a moment’s notice. “Allow me to help then. Can examine my son’s handiwork in the meantime.”

Kratos’ embarrassment must have been so plain on his face. He cleared his throat, but Dirk had already taken the wooden charm necklace, unfurling the string. “Really, I can do this myself…”

But he was helpless to Dirk’s smile, to his gentle hands as he shifted aside Kratos’ hair, sliding the necklace over him. He felt the other’s fingertips brush over him, even the frizzle of his beard that took up nearly half the dwarf’s face, yet it didn’t dim the other’s smile in the slightest.

Now why was Kratos so nervous over something this simple? He couldn’t understand it…

“Been improving, lad. Maybe Presea can be your new tutor.” Dirk tied the knot just at the base of Kratos’ neck.

“Told you I was getting better! I always made sure to practice while I was away.” Lloyd discussed with Dirk so easily, despite Kratos’ blush that must have been growing more obvious by the second.

Once Dirk stepped back, he let out a breath that had been held so long in his chest – and then inhaled again once the dwarf wrapped a friendly arm around him.

“You do make your fathers proud, Lloyd,” Dirk complimented, before looking down at Kratos. Seated at the table as he was, he was now, for the first time, at a lower height than Dirk. “Looks very fine on you, too.”

“I-” Kratos stuttered, cleared his throat again, feeling the cool surface of the wood against his collarbone, but remembering the warmth of the hands on him. “That is… It is only because of Lloyd that…”

“Learn to accept a compliment, why don’t ya?” A grin that could warm the ice on a chilly winter day. “A handsome man like you should be used to it.”

“That’s… not necessary…” But the arm around his shoulder felt so welcoming that he stayed in it, with no thought to leaving it just yet.

It took him a moment to remember that Lloyd was but a few feet away from them. He gazed back at his son, who was looking at the two very curiously.

“Huh, did I miss something…?”

Oh, I’m being a fool, Kratos thought with a bit of shame. But the arm only held him more firmly, so steady.

“Just a bit of fatherly bonding, is all,” Dirk told his son, with a confidence that Kratos wondered if he ever had in his entire life.

Lloyd blinked, angled his head just slightly – and then realization hit. “Ohh!” His grin was practically identical to Dirk’s. “I see! That’s great for both of you!”

With a cough, Kratos placed a hand over his forehead, unused to such vigor from so many at once. It is not even true, yet he accepts it so easily, Kratos thought, even as he felt a sense of relief. Or, was it true? He wasn’t even sure now.

“Does that mean you’ll send him letters too then?” Lloyd asked suddenly, eager just as before.

Kratos raised his head, once more left in the dark. “I’m sorry. Letters?”

Dirk’s grin stayed on, but with an air of fondness. The arm around him seemed to feel even gentler. “Aye, a bit of a story there. If ya want to hear, I could tell it.”

“Let me tell it! Let me!”

“Lloyd, don’t you have some packing to do still?”

“Aw, but I can tell it good, I swear!”

Kratos sighed, feeling a little weary, both for the situation and for what he would need to do once he made his own journey. But a smile finally graced his lips, hearing both Lloyd and Dirk chat away, still being held so close.

Maybe it was okay to be this happy, at least for a while.

#tales of symphonia #lloyd irving #dirk #kratos aurion #fanfiction

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ssidesblog · 4 years

Text

do you really talk to god? i wonder what he tells you

patton centric, 3,397 wc, angst, hs au, ao3

patton comes out to his parents, it isn’t pretty

The cold night air had a personal vendetta against him, Patton was sure. He sucked in and brought a hand up to his throat as it burned. His spit was thick but he swallowed it just to have some kind of liquid aid his aching throat. His head pounded in beat to his heart and he couldn’t say he enjoyed the feeling. A gust of wind sent a shiver down his spine.

Maybe it wasn’t logical to be sitting on his roof in the middle of a cold October night but Patton couldn’t seem to bring himself down to his room. Despite the less than ideal weather, the night calmed him. The stars weren’t bright and he knew there were too few to make up a whole night sky but he could see more than usual. No porch lights polluted the sky, everything was asleep; husbands and wives slept in their beds, their kids doing the same, and Patton sat awake but he was as quiet as the people below him, save for a sniffle here and there but he’s sure somebody was snoring loudly enough to make up for the noise.

And Patton couldn’t sleep anyway. Too many emotions ran through his heart and spread themselves through his veins like a disease until he acknowledged their presence. And once they were known, the tears were to be expected. These emotions were not new. They were an old thing that had made themselves a home in Patton’s body, even though he had made it clear they weren’t invited; he didn’t want to be a house, he didn’t want to be an occupied space. But once they had moved in it wasn’t as if Patton could totally ignore them. On most days he did, but they had always loved the night anyway.

So Patton sat on his roof. He was messy and snot faced and the tear streaks on his face were only beginning to dry. He pulled his knees to his chest and rested his folded arms on top. His chin was placed on his forearms and his gaze found its way to the sky.

“I never did understand this part.” Patton spoke, talking to nobody, or maybe he was talking to everyone. He didn’t know. He just knew he had to address somebody. “I don’t really like it.” He whispered.

“Is there a reason you stuck me here with them?” His eyes searched for a figure maybe made of stars. “You’re known for being kind but I don’t see how this is fair.”

A pause as if waiting for a response.

“You’ve never been a talker.” He mumbled. God didn’t really like answering Patton’s questions. He thought maybe he did answer his curiosity in little ways, in the people Patton surrounded himself with, in ways Patton couldn’t really describe. He let out a sigh.

“I hope you’re right in the end. I never have been a fan of sad endings,” He lowered his gaze to his small town’s skyline, “Though, Virgil has always told me a sad ending is necessary sometimes. But is that how my story ends?” By the time he asked the question his voice had gone almost completely quiet.

“I don’t know what to do. How do I know what’s right? How do I work up the courage to say who I am? Confidence has never been my strong suit.” The sky never opened its mouth to respond. Patton knew God would never speak to him in such an obvious way. “How am I supposed to proclaim who I am when I still don’t know fully who that is?” In the quiet of the night, Patton realized with a start who he needed to be talking to. Because even though it was nearly three in the morning, he knew he could talk to him, knew he would be willing to have Patton pick him up, drive his truck to the park by their houses and would sit with him until he felt better.

Roman maybe said yes to things too easily. Or maybe he just said yes to Patton too easily. Patton couldn’t find it in himself to reassure him it was ok if he said no, because despite his efforts, Patton was not a selfless person. One could argue that he was selfish and he would agree: hesitant, reluctant. But he couldn’t help it. Roman was a constant in his life, he kept him grounded and safe. He knew just what to say when Patton wasn’t feeling well, he knew when to push, he knew when he needed a hug. He knew Patton in ways Patton didn’t even know himself. Patton always thought Roman may have been a guardian angel. He doesn’t think he’ll ever not think that. He could just imagine God sending him down in the form of a freckled 5 year old kid who’s left front tooth was missing, stick in hand, though if he was asked that was his sword, determined to protect him. Roman always referred to their meeting as fate, a sort of destiny. Patton found himself agreeing.

The house creaked when he stepped back inside. The wailing only stopped when he was out the front door, phone in hand. The text he’d sent was met with an almost immediate response, a confirmation. With that, Patton got in his car and drove one street over. Roman was already standing on the curb when he got there.

“Did you have another freaky sixth sense moment?” Patton asked as Roman sat in the passenger's seat.

“I did,” Roman said with a grin, “Woke up in a start knowing you would be needing me.” Patton never knew if Roman was telling the truth. He never asked. The short ride to the park was made in silence. Patton parked the car and climbed out, jumping into the back. Roman quickly followed. They lied on their backs, facing the too open sky. The small blanket that covered the bed of the truck only took away some of the uncomfortable ridges of the trunk.

“So what’s on your mind, Pat?” Roman’s voice was softer than usual, a certain reservedness only used with his friends.

“How do I come out when I already know it’s going to end badly?” Patton asked, getting straight to the point. There was no use beating around the bush.

“You don’t need to come out.”

“I’m sick of not being able to be my true self, whoever that is,” Patton’s voice could only be described as tired, “I need to be able to live as myself to figure out who I am. I’m almost an adult, Roman and I don’t even know who I am yet.”

“You will never just be one person,” Roman laid his hand out, palm faced up. An invitation. Patton took it. “You’re always changing and growing.”

“How can I grow when the things I need to sustain myself are being taken away from me?” Patton squeezed Roman’s hand, “They haven’t given me the room to be my own person. I’m outgrowing the room they gave me and they can’t see that. That room was never meant for me.” Roman took a second to respond. His thumb lazily traced over Patton’s knuckles.

“They’ll never notice until you tell them. You need to do what will make you happy, Patton.”

“What if I’m not made for happiness?”

“There’s no reason for a what if,” Roman’s gentle tone felt like a comforting hand on his back, “I know you’re made for happiness. That’s what everybody is made for. Pain and sadness are necessary components to happiness. You’ve seen Inside Out.” Conversations were never heavy with Roman. He made things easier.

“I’m scared.” Patton admitted.

“You should be.” Roman’s reply would sound harsh to anybody else, but Patton understood.

“If I need a place to stay-”

“You don’t even need to ask, Puffball,” Roman was smiling, “You’ve heard it from each of us, our house is your house.” Patton knew that, but this could be messy and he could need a permanent place to live.

“I’ve already told Mama you might need a place to live whenever you decide to come out. She’s more than happy to let you stay with us.” Roman said, sensing Patton’s hesitation.

“I couldn’t be more thankful.”

“You’re like a son to her. Probably her favorite.” Roman said with a laugh. Patton chuckled. They laid in silence for a few minutes. It was peaceful and the grounding weight of Roman’s hand in his made it easier for Patton to breathe.

“When are you gonna do it?” Roman asked.

“Tomorrow,” Patton responded, much to Roman’s surprise, “I’ll keep putting it off if I don’t.” Patton explained.

“That makes sense.” There’s a pause before he speaks again, “Please be careful.” He moved their intertwined hands to his chest, holding Patton’s hand protectively.

“I’ll try my best.” Patton responded.

Maybe God would never give a direct answer to Patton. He didn’t mind, not really, because he had Roman and his calloused hands and his soft words. Maybe this was God’s way of answering him.

Maybe this was a bad idea. Patton’s hands couldn’t stop shaking. He’d felt nauseous all day. But he knew what needed to be done and today had to be the day. Patton made his way to the small dining table, setting out plates and utensils as his mother had asked. He took his seat shortly after. He looked to the painting of Jesus that hung in front of him. He said a quick prayer.

“How was your day?” Patton directed this question at his father.

“Work was usual.” He answered. The response was too short, his dad was already in a bad mood. That was less than ideal. The dinner was eaten in silence. That was commonplace, conversation hadn’t been easy with his parents lately. Patton took their dishes to the kitchen and cleaned them as quickly as he could.

“Can I talk to you guys?” Patton asked once he’d stepped into the living room where his parents had migrated.

“Of course, sweetheart.” His mom muted the TV and suddenly Patton felt so small. His parents stared at him expectedly. He took in a deep breath.

“I know this is going to be hard to hear,” His eyes were focused on his fidgeting hands, “But you need to know. I’m gay.” Patton knew that wasn’t the full truth. He was bisexual but that gave too much hope for Patton’s parents to hold onto. His voice was low, almost a rumble. The silence stretched on for what could have been days, weeks, years. Patton decided on years. His dad stood up from the couch. He watched his mom and dad have a conversation with their eyes. Finally, he looked at Patton, expression a mix of anger, disgust, and, mostly, disappointment.

“I want you out of my house within the hour.” His voice was cold and tight. Patton knew this was a possibility, he always thought that’s how it would end and he thought he’d accepted it. But now it was happening and he was angry. Because this was his dad. They had gone fishing once a month, every month since he was 10. He was always humoring Patton’s dad jokes and even adding some of his own. He had taught him how to ride a bike and then how to drive. He’d always been so patient.

“So that’s it?” Patton asked incredulously, “16 years of being your son and suddenly that’s all thrown out the window?” Patton’s voice shook but the anger was still clear. And maybe even he could hear how broken he sounded.

“I didn’t raise you to be like that, Patton. You’re no son of mine.” His dad’s voice held a malice Patton had never heard before. Patton looked at his mom, eyes pleading.

“You heard him, Patton. Don’t make things difficult.” His mom had always agreed with his dad. They were good together, there wasn’t a doubt in Patton’s mind that they were made for each other. He looks at the woman who had taught him to read. She was always quiet and reserved, nothing quite like himself. She always talked about the importance of words, how the words he said would affect the people he spoke them to. She had taught him to always be kind.

“I guess kindness has its limits, huh?” Patton mostly mumbled the phrase but his parents still heard it.

“We are being generous,” His dad practically spat out the words, “I’d have you shipped out to one of those conversion areas but that doesn’t take away the sin.”

“God still loves me.” Patton said.

“God may love despite the sin, but I am not God, Patton.” With that, his dad left the room. Patton was shaking again. He could feel his eyes tear up but he willed himself not to cry. He gave a final glance to his mother before disappearing to his room. He already had his clothes packed. They had already been tucked away in a suitcase for two days. He shoved his laptop and other electronics into a backpack. Patton didn’t have much, a reflection of his family’s wealth. He didn’t mind and at the moment it seemed like a blessing. He took out his phone and sent a text to Roman saying he would be staying with him. He left his house with two backpacks and one suitcase. His mother stood on the porch.

“We do not want you to come back.” She said, “And even though I am angry and disgusted, I want you to be safe.” His heart ached. His parents were never evil, he knew this, no matter how upset he was.

“I’m staying with a friend.” Was his response. She nodded. Patton took that as his cue to leave and walked to his truck, shoving his things in the back seat.

“Patton.” He looked at his mom. “I know what your father said but you will always be our child. God gave us the responsibility of taking care of you, but I do not think we are capable of handling…: She paused, a flash of disgust graced her face, “Your situation. I think we both know it’s better for you to not be under our roof.” He nodded. She turned and opened the door to the house and paused. She looked back at Patton. “God may love you in spite of your lifestyle but always remember that you do not know God, Patton.” And with that she entered the house and closed the door.

Patton was parked outside Roman’s house shortly after. His truck was turned off but he still sat in there. His hands were gripped to the steering wheel. He could feel his breathing become more shallow. He was shaking again. Suddenly, he couldn’t breath. Tears were welling up in his eyes and as they started to descend down his face he felt something in him break. He curled in on himself, arms thrown over the steering wheel, forehead resting against its leather. He didn’t remember when he’d started screaming but by the way his throat scratched he knew it had to have been for a while. He couldn’t stop himself and he didn’t know how much he wanted to. Maybe he should be feeling like this. His own parents had just kicked him out and used his own God against him. He could hear himself calling for his mom, which he knew was no use. It was a habit, he had always been able to call for his mom if he was hurting. But she’d just let him leave. And he didn’t understand what she’d said and the thought of those being the last words she’d ever say to him made him sob even louder.

His car door opened and he saw a familiar face. Olive skin and freckles, deep, brown eyes, perfect teeth. Roman was familiar. He was vaguely aware he was having a panic attack. Roman was instructing him to take in deep breaths. He tried his best but he kept messing up. But Roman was patient. Like his dad. And Patton needed to stop thinking of them. After a few minutes, Patton had calmed down enough to gather up his bags and walk into the house. Roman’s mom stood in the living room, water and medication in hand. She walked over to him and placed both items in his hands.

“The aspirin will help the eventual headache.” She spoke softly, kindly. She rubbed his arm before disappearing into her own room. Patton was led to Roman’s room, which would be doubling as Patton’s. He set down his things next to an air mattress that already had a blanket lying on it.

“Mama said we’ll get you a bed as soon as you’re feeling ok to go out.” Roman said, sitting on his own bed. Patton couldn’t help feeling like he was intruding.

“Thank you.” His voice was hoarse. He took the aspirin and downed the whole cup of water.

“Come lay down here,” Roman patted his bed, “I’ll put on Winnie the Pooh and you can try to relax.” Patton would always be amazed at Roman’s ability to know exactly what he needed. He crawled into Roman’s bed, wrapped in the blanket that had been on the air mattress. Roman connected his computer to the small TV that sat at the end of his bed and played Pooh’s Grand Adventure. He joined Patton on the bed and wrapped his arms around him. They stayed like that the entire movie. Roman made jokes here and there and Patton could only manage a quick chuckle. But by the end of it, he felt a little better.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Roman asked as the credits played.

“There’s not much to say,” Patton’s voice was barely above a whisper, “They kicked me out. My dad told me I’m not his son and my mom told me otherwise while also implying that God’s love for me was conditional.” Patton knew he wasn’t going to cry again, he’d already let it all out, but his voice was weak when he spoke and he sounded near tears.

“Well she’s just not right.” Roman said. Patton tilted his head. Roman brushed Patton’s hair out of his face and kept his hand rested on his cheek as he talked, “From what I know of God he will love you no matter what. That’s what’s so special about God, he holds unconditional love for his children.” Patton knew Roman wasn’t good with religion, it hadn’t been a part of his life for many years. But he was right and deep down Patton knew he was.

“Patton,” Roman spoke again, “I love you no matter what, and I know it’s different because I’m your friend, but you mean the world to me. Your parents are assholes for doing this to you. Allow yourself to be angry and upset. You don’t have to pretend to be happy.” Roman held Patton’s head to his chest and tangled his hand into his hair.

“You know me well.” Patton weakly responded.

“And knowing you has been one of the best things to happen to me.” Roman said and placed his head on top of Patton’s. Voices from the TV could be heard coming from Remus’s room next door, and if Patton listened closely he could hear Roman’s mom getting ready for her night shift. It was another average day in the house, it was all so familiar.

“I think I may be home.” Patton whispered, as if saying it too loud would make it not true.

“I think you may be, too.” Roman said.

That night, Patton slept in Roman’s bed. It felt more like a sleepover that way. Patton knew things would take getting used to, but he knew he’d be able to adjust. Roman had always been a home and Patton took residence the moment they met eyes at the age of 5 years old. Guardian angel, fate, destiny, Roman, home; it was all the same to Patton. And maybe Patton couldn’t talk to God, maybe he would only be left with unanswered questions, but being held in Roman’s arms felt an awful lot like God was talking to him in that moment.

“It's okay.” He seemed to say and who was Patton to argue with God.

#sanders sides #patton sanders #roman sanders #sanders sides fanfiction #patton angst #my hs au #yes the first thing i wrote for this au was angst #and what about it #talk of religion #being gay and religious isnt a fun experience #wrote this while coming down from being hgh #so the language is very flowery #also this made me want to write royality #they really are just best friends in this au #but man....#and to people who may say this sounds like more than friendship #it really isnt this is how me and my friends are #my friend called me home the other day and i almost cried

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ourloveisforthelovely · 4 years

Text

On making you happy Part 5

Harry Potter AU Marauders Era

Link to Part 4

Pairings: Regulus Black x Reader

Rating: M - adult themes

Author note: i somehow forgot to post updates on this story. Tumblr is now up to date with AO3. This is what happens when you have multiple stories going. :)

__________

Christmas...it's going to be a lonely holiday…

You should have taken Narcissa Malfoy’s advice a lot more seriously. It had been six months since your wedding and you were alone for the 12th time. You were still not in Paris and Regulus was still working for Voldemort.

So far none of Regulus’ promises were being fulfilled. It seemed like every time that he left he would always talk about how this would be the last time but it never was. You had come to the realization that Regulus probably had no intention of leaving the death eaters nor did he plan on taking you to Paris.

You sat in your mother’s living room as she eagerly decorated the Christmas tree. Her eyes flickered to you every few moments.

“Come now, Y/n, Regulus will be home to you soon.”

“I want him home now. We’ve been married six months and he’s been gone more than I have seen him. I just expected our first Christmas to be different.”

Your mother nodded before kneeling down beside you.

“Your husband has an honorable job. We have to make sacrifices for the greater good. How do you think that I feel, sweetie? I haven’t seen your brother in many many months.”

You only nodded as your mother went back to what she was doing. How were you supposed to convince your mother that you didn’t agree with your family’s pureblood ideals? Your mother would have a hissy fit if you told them that you had begged Regulus to stop being a death eater? They would probably be so proud of Regulus for not breaking away. It wouldn’t matter how it made you feel.

“It will be okay, sissy.”

Your attention turned to your sister Margaret. She had been laying on the sofa watching your mother decorate. Over the past few weeks Margaret’s condition had deteriorated. The doctor had told your parents to be ready for the inevitable.

Margaret was part of the reason that your parents supported Voldemort so much. He promised that he would find a way to make the poor little girl whole.

“He’s not done jack shit.”

You thought angrily before smiling sweetly at your sister. Her tired eyes were on you as she smiled lazily.

“Thank you, Maggie.”

You said before pressing a kiss to her forehead.

That night you went to bed after sending Regulus another letter. You could only hope that your husband would see the letter sooner rather than later.

“It will be okay.”

You said, yawning. Maybe if you told yourself that would be okay it would be. Regulus would come home soon and sweep you off to Paris. The two of you could find a posh little flat where you could live in peace.

A few hours later you were awoken by someone pounding on your door. You slowly got out of bed and struggled to the door. Your mother stood on the other side in tears.

“Margaret’s dead.”

You felt your mouth drop. The world seemed to stop spinning and drop into the abyss of nothingness. You had to meet your mother’s tear filled eyes a few times to make sure that what she was telling you was right. When she finally nodded for the fifth time you too began to cry.

“When?”

You managed to say before bursting into tears. Your mother pulled you into a tight hug.

“About fifteen minutes ago. She isn’t suffering anymore, Y/n.”

Later that morning you sat in the living room looking out the window. You had sent a letter to Regulus hoping that news of Margaret’s death would warrant some kind of reply from your husband.

“My darling Reggie, Margaret died today, Her condition went downhill. I know that you are busy but I need you. I haven’t heard from you in two weeks. Christmas won’t be Christmas without you or Maggie. I send you all of my love. -Your wife.”

You wanted to add “your wife that you have seemed to have forgotten” but decided not to. The last thing that you wanted was for Regulus to come home to fuss at you. Your mind couldn’t even contemplate that right now. The last time that Regulus was home he didn’t seem to be home at all. His mind was so preoccupied with other things.

Around 9 am, you had finally got your mother calmed down enough to go to sleep. Your father had politely ducked out of the house for some alone time. You didn’t even feel like arguing with him to stay with his family. At the moment, all that you wanted to do was fall asleep. Maybe if you could get some sleep, you would feel better.

The door opening and closing didn’t make you flinch. You figured that it was your father returning from his drunk trip to town. It wasn’t until a finger stroked over your lip did you wake up. Your eyes snapped open to see Regulus knelt down beside you.

“Regulus!”

You squealed his name before diving into his arms. Both of you fell backward. Regulus’ arms were wrapped around you as he took the brunt of the fall. Neither of you said anything for a few moments. You were busy enjoying the feeling of his arm around you.

“I couldn’t let you sit here alone.”

He finally said tenderly. You put your hand to his cheek and took in the sight of the concern in his grey eyes. Instead of the cold indifference that he showed most people; Regulus was warm and alive to you.

“I’m glad you came.”

Regulus looked around the room for any signs of your parents.

“Where’s your mum and dad?”

“Dad is out getting wasted and mum took a sleeping potion.”

Regulus gently pulled the two of you into a standing position. His mouth was on yours kissing you as if it had been twenty years since the two of you had seen each other last.

“I want to be with you.”

Regulus said, quietly. The last thing that he wanted was for your mother overhearing him saying how much he wanted to get laid. You, meanwhile, were thrilled with the thought of having Regulus’ hands on you. Physical love was more than welcome at this particular moment.

“Take me to your room.”

He said, softly.

Regulus kicked the door to the bedroom shut as he chased into the room after you. His arms were around your waist as he held you from behind.

“What’s this?”

Regulus froze the moment that his hands grazed over a hard place between your hip bones. You turned in his arms.

“That’s your son in there.”

You had forgotten all about the “big secret” that you were keeping from everyone. Regulus’ face went pale.

“You’re pregnant?”

You nodded. Before Margaret’s death, this had been the main thing that was on your mind. You had been trying to think of ways to tell Regulus. There was also the worry that Regulus wouldn’t be there when you needed him to be. The last thing that you wanted was to be giving birth in a room with only Walburga and your mother to keep you company.

“Looks like it.”

Regulus ran a hand through his hair as he sat down putting a hand over his mouth.

“How far?”

You shrugged.

“My period is three weeks late. I haven’t been to a doctor yet.”

Regulus sighed. This was the last thing that he needed at the moment. He didn’t have time to be worrying over you when he was “working.”

“Have you told either of our parents?”

You shook your head.

“I wanted to tell the father first. I’ve been begging to see you for weeks.”

Regulus’ eyes rolled up to you.

“I’ve been working.”

You felt every hopeful feeling leave your body.

“That’s what it's always going to be, isn't it?

Regulus stood up. He was trying to keep his temper in check. You didn’t deserve for him to take his frustrations out on you.

“I’m trying to find a way to get us to Paris.”

You snorted, rolling your eyes.

“Yeah, right. Forget Paris and stop trying to charm me with bullshit. You’re going to tell your mother that I am pregnant and she is going to haunt both of us for the rest of forever. Paris is never going to happen.”

Regulus was beginning to become annoyed.

“You don't know what I have been doing for us. I have been risking my life every day to try to find a way to make you happy. What do I get in return? A nagging wife that is never happy…”

Regulus felt guilty when your eyes filled with tears. He never meant to make you cry.

“That’s how you feel? That I’m nagging you...because I miss you. Well, fine.”

“Y/n, I’m sorry...I wasn’t thinking.”

You shook your head before pulling your sweater back on.

“Just leave me alone. Go away, Regulus.”

You stormed into the on-suite bathroom leaving Regulus looking at the place where you stood. He waited a moment longer before leaving the room without another word.

_____

@fairywriter-oracle

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thetravelerwrites · 4 years

Text

Geyarajan (Part 2)

Rating: Teen Relationship: Female Human/Male Gandharva Additional Tags: Exophilia, Gandharva, Childhood Sweethearts, Puppy Love Content Warnings: Separation, Memory lapse Words: 4600

The continuation of @floral-and-fine‘s commission! The reader decides to submit herself to the gandharvas for punishment for her perceived crimes against them, all the while hoping to see Geyarajan again. Please reblog and leave feedback!

The Traveler's Masterlist

You rode in the carriage with Aashiyana for several hours at a quick trot until you were well out of Dunmountain. You wanted to get as much distance between yourself and the city before the judge, and worse, your parents, realized you’d run off.

During the ride, Aashiyana told you everything that had happened during the four days you couldn’t remember, the four days you’d spent with her people. According to her, the children of the colony found you fascinating. Many of them had never seen a human before, so you were just as much a novelty to them as Geyarajan had been to you when you’d first met him. They took turns being your constant companions as you rested in the colony’s infirmary. Geyarajan was a little jealous that they monopolized your time, but happy that they were being nice to you.

However, the adults were distrustful of you. Geyarajan’s parents were livid at him for bringing you there. He came clean about having been visiting you for years, and that you’d never once said anything to anyone about the colony. His assurances did nothing to assuage their concerns, and had ordered him never to see you again once you were gone. Geyarajan agreed like a dutiful child, but made it clear to you and his friends in secret that he had no intention of obeying this command.

Aashiyana said that once you were well enough, you were brought before the elders of the colony and interrogated. You were terrified and Geyarajan was angry that he was not permitted to accompany you. Ultimately it was decided that you would be returned to your village, as they had no other course of action that wouldn’t provoke the humans into revenge. Killing you or keeping you would absolutely draw the wrath of the village, so giving you back would be a fifty/fifty shot of the colony’s survival.

As it stood, when the humans came to destroy the colony, they were ruthless and took no prisoners. The colony had been mostly evacuated by then as a precaution; they had moved the children, the elderly, and the infirm to a safer roost elsewhere, and the ones that remained stayed to defend the colony. However, the colony was made of wood, vines, and straw, so once a torch was put to it, it lit up like a tinderbox. Many were able to escape, but there were a few that had their flight feathers burned off and were killed in the fire. You cried with Aashiyana as she relayed this to you.

“Geyarajan came to talk to me after,” You told her. “He didn’t believe I never told anyone. He blamed me for the attack.”

“He did?” Aashiyana said. “That’s news to me. Although, after you left and the attack happened, he stopped talking about you altogether, and he forbade us from talking about you as well. He changed his name not long after. He said his name no longer suited him as he didn’t intend to sing anymore. It’s a shame really; he had a lovely voice.”

You frowned in dismay. “I knew he hated me, but I guess I didn’t realize just how much.”

Aashiyana tutted. “I don’t think he hated you. Although I suppose his feelings may have changed. I wouldn’t know, I haven’t seen him in a few years.”

“Why not?”

“The colony dispersed into smaller groups that live throughout the forest now. The elders felt it was safer for us than living in a big space like we did before. Besides, finding a new, ideal place to rebuild the colony and then defend it while it was actually being rebuilt, would take years. Separating was better use of resources.”

“Where does Geyarajan… or rather Gaveshan, live now? Is he still in Shelter Forest?”

“No,” She replied. “He and his family live in the settlement on the largest of the islands just off the coast near Coleville with a handful of other families. Few races ever go out there because of the legend surrounding that place, so they thought it’d be safe there.”

You knew of it. There were three large islands off the shoreline; the Beast, the Ghost, and the Demon, surrounded by many tiny satellite islands known as the Watchers of the Wharf. Beast Island, the biggest of the three, was said to house all manner of horrible monstrosity, but knowing what you knew now, you were pretty sure it was a scare tactic to keep people away.

“Where do you live?”

“Another settlement in the woods between Coleville and Tandale, close to the lake,” Aashiyana said. “Coleville is a town that’s much kinder to non-humans. We don’t interact much with the town, but we also don’t feel as threatened there.”

“That’s on the way, then,” You said. “I can drop you off before I head to the island.”

“What?” She screeched. “You can’t go to the island! The only way to get on it is by air! It’s surrounded by sheer cliffs on all sides, and you’ve got a bad leg! There’s no way!”

“I’ll find a way,” You said, reaching down to rub your leg. You’d limped a little ever since it was broken, but not so much that it hindered your day-to-day life. Though, to be fair, you weren’t exactly climbing trees these days. “Unless you’d like to fly me there.”

She winced. “I’m really grateful for you busting me out of that prison, but if I were spotted flying a human to the island, they’d shoot me out of the sky.”

“It was worth asking,” You replied morosely. “I can take you to your settlement and make sure you get there safely before I go… wherever I go.”

“Are you sure you want to do that?” She asked. “As far as my people are concerned, you’re the reason our colony split up.”

“I have to explain myself, then,” You said. “Or at least apologize, for whatever that may be worth.”

It took a week to get to Coleville from Dunmountain, even by carriage. There were off-road inns and shops where you could sleep and resupply. Aashiyana was adamant about sleeping in the trees well away from the eyes of others, still distrustful of people without wings.

Once in Coleville, you paid the carriage-man the rest of his fee and took what little you’d brought with you into the local inn. After checking in, getting your key, and dumping your bags in your room, you went out to where Aashiyana was hiding in the woods. She fluttered down to sit with you on a few rocks.

“It’s not far from here, then?” You asked her.

“No,” She said. “About an hour and a half to fly. Longer walking.”

“Well, I’m not going to stop you from going home, but it is late and I am tired,” You told her. “If you can give me directions, I can find my way there in the morning.”

She shook her head. “I owe you a debt. The least I can do is wait for you.”

You nodded your thanks. “I’m going to buy food. Can I get anything for you?”

She shook her head again. “No, thanks. I haven’t hunted in two weeks and my talons are itching.”

“Have at it, then,” You said with a smile before turning and wending back toward town for a bite and a rest.

The next morning, you met Aashiyana at the place where you’d seen her the night before, and she began to lead you toward her settlement. You’d left your belongings back at the inn, uncertain if you’d be alive at the end of the day to claim them.

“Are you still sure about this?” Aashiyana asked.

“Yes,” You said resolutely. “It’s all I’ve thought about for years. However I’ve wronged your people, it’s my responsibility to atone for it.”

“But you haven’t wronged us,” Aashiyana said. “You said it yourself, you never told anyone about us. You don’t even remember being at the colony.”

“Regardless, my being there put your people at risk and cost the lives of several of you. A price must be paid.”

She frowned. “I don’t think that’s your burden to shoulder.”

“Who else, if not me?”

“Those who set the colony on fire, for one.”

“But I wasn’t there and I don’t know which of the invaders are the perpetrators. Besides, if I hadn’t been careless, it wouldn’t have happened in the first place. This is the best way.”

She sighed in dismay. “If your sure. But I still don’t like it.”

When you arrived, there was an uproar, first a happy one when Aashiyana appeared, and then an angry one when they saw you emerge with her. There was some concern that you had caught her and had forced her to lead you back to the settlement, but Aashiyana was quick to ease their fears.

Once they realized that you weren’t a threat, they were at a loss as to what to do with you. They didn’t exactly have a jail in which to keep you. Their solution was to keep you tied up in a spare storage hut under constant surveillance while they contacted the other colonies for advice. You didn’t argue with their decree.

You were allowed to have visitors, and Aashiyana came to see you often. She brought along others who had met you during the period of time you’d spent in the colony, and they were all happy that you’d recovered well. A couple still weren’t entirely sure if you were telling the truth about your amnesia, however. They tried playing the same games they’d played when you were young in order to jog your memory, but none of it worked. It left you frustrated and the others forlorn.

After a few days, a message came back to the elder of the settlement. She came in to greet and talk with you, the first time she had done so since you had arrived.

“Do you know who I am?” She asked as she entered the dimly lit shed where you were confined. The door closed behind her. She was an elderly woman, her brown wings tattered and her back hunched. She wore no clothes, like most of her kind, and her skin was weathered. Her eyes, the color matching her feathers, were as sharp and shrewd as any judge you’d met.

“No, madam,” You replied. “I’m afraid I don’t. Have we met before? If so, I apologize for my lapse in recall.”

“Hmm,” She hummed, settling on a sack of grain opposite you, her old bones creaking. “You’re either an imbecile, a consummate liar, or… Aashiyana’s tale is true and you do not remember.”

“I don’t,” You said. “I can’t remember what happened after I passed out from the pain. I swear it’s the truth.”

“I’m to understand that you and the young Geyarajan met several times. Is that true?”

“Yes,” You replied. “We met when I was six or so. We were friends for several years.”

“Did he ever tell you where the colony was?”

“No, madam. Not once. We always met in a clearing near my village. He never took me back to the colony, though he did speak of it.”

“Could a man of your village have followed him back?”

“I don’t see how,” You said. “He always flew back after we saw each other. He never returned on foot.”

“Except…” She prodded.

“Except…” You gasped at the realization. “Oh, gods, he must have carried me back to the colony on foot. It’s how they found it!” You threw yourself down at her feet. “I knew it! I knew it was my fault! I’m sorry, I’m so sorry!”

You began to sob. She didn’t attempt to comfort you, but neither did she shake you off. She merely waited as you cried yourself out. Once you were done, she stood up.

“My name is Elder Jaya. We sent word to the other settlements about you. We’ve received word that you are to be brought to a tribunal on the largest, safest settlement on The Beast.”

Your heart thumped. Aashiyana said that’s where Geyarajan was. You barely had an extra thought to lend to the fact that you were going to be put on trial. Well, the outcome would be the same either way. Whether you were found guilty and killed, or if they deemed you innocent, it would change nothing. You had no place to return to.

“I was to assess your credibility before such a thing occurred,” Elder Jaya continued. “If I found you lacking, you were to be killed.”

You gulped and looked up at her from the ground. “How did I fare?”

She considered you with her lips pursed before answering. “Well enough. Aashiyana’s testimony added to the integrity of your claims. Now prepare yourself. We shall be leaving at dawn for Beast Island. It will take most of the day to reach the water.”

“Thank you, Elder,” You said. “For your graciousness.”

“Don’t thank me yet, child,” She said as she made to leave. “I may only have delayed the inevitable.”

The next morning, you were led in chains through the forest to the cliffs. Since you were unable to fly, you would have to be carried across. Thankfully, though you weren’t exactly a dainty thing, your guard was more than strong enough to lift you. Even from the cliffs, you could see a row of figures standing on the island across the water, waiting for your party to arrive.

Aashiyana was with you to give her testimony, as she had done in her home settlement. A few other character witnesses came too, mostly the ones who had befriended you as a child.

Once in the air, you clutched your guard and closed your eyes. Ever since falling from the tree, you’d had a pretty awful fear of falling. The guard was caught off balance by the sudden dead weight of you huddled in your shackles, full fetal position, but was able to reposition you to prevent dropping you from three hundred feet over the water.

You opened your eyes when you felt a thump, signifying that you had landed. You were greeted to the sight of several bows leveling arrows at you. With your heart thudding in your chest, you were set on your feet. The bowmen were all different colors and plumages, and you didn’t recognize any of them.

From behind them, an older man stepped forward with dark grey hair and fur pale grey skin, and blue eyes, though unlike many of the men, his hair was cut short around his ears.

“Do you know who I am?” He asked.

“I…” You throat was suddenly dry. “I assume you’re the elder of the settlement, yes?” As well as you were able being tied up, you bowed carefully. “My best wishes to you. I’m sorry to cause you inconvenience by coming here out of the blue. I’ve come to accept responsibility for the attack on the colony many years ago. Had I been less careless, it might never have happened. You have my sincerest apologies.”

“You think your apology would undo the damage you have caused?”

“No, of course not,” You said, head down piously. “I can only hope to offer my life in an effort to make amends.”

“Hmph,” He grumped, looking you up and down. “We will see what’s to be seen. Put her in the hold for now.”

“She hasn’t eaten since the morning,” Elder Jaya said. “Since she has had the decency to willingly submit to our judgment, the least we can do is feed her.”

“It will be taken care of,” The elder said. “Take her.”

The guard from Kaya’s settlement, in addition to one from Beast Island, escorted you to another makeshift jail made from a reinforced storage shed. Taking prisoners was apparently not a common thing for these people.

This jail had very little light and no windows. The only illumination was from a gap in the bottom of the door. While here, you would not be allowed visitors like you had in Kaya’s settlement. You had no idea how long it would take, what they expected of you, or how to occupy your time. You could count grains, but you couldn’t even see them to do it.

The door opened, and a tray with food was placed on the ground, along with a cup of water. The light blinded you to the point where you couldn’t see the food-bringer, though they did stare at you for a few seconds. Before you could thank them, the door closed again.

God, you wanted a bath. All of your things, your money, your clothes, was left in the inn, probably claimed by the owners now since you hadn’t returned to pick it up. Oh well. If you died, you wouldn’t need it all anyway. You fell into an uneasy sleep on the straw floor of the shed, unhappy dreams waking you from time to time, and you were groggy and sore come morning.

You had pushed the tray and cup back out under the gap in the door the night before, which you assumed had been carved into the door for that purpose since the wood was freshly cut. Despite that, the door opened and your morning meal was delivered in person, but you still couldn’t make out the details of the person handing it off. They left again before you could speak.

“Thank you!” You called through the door. There was no response.

At noon, you were called to the tribunal, which was made up of all the elders of every settlement that had been in the original colony, seven in total. In attendance around the room were many members of the colony plus your character witnesses. Some seemed to recognize you, though you didn’t recall them.

The elder of the Beast Island settlement was the head of the tribunal. “Do you recognize any members of this council?” He asked.

You looked at them all carefully, paying special attention to the ones who seemed to know you, but it sparked no memories.

“No, sir,” You replied.

There was a murmuring among the folk gathered there, and a member of the tribunal, a woman with raven black feathers and dark brown skin, stood from her seat and came closer, inspecting your face.

“You don’t remember me?” She asked.

“No, madam, I apologize, but I don’t,” You replied.

“Hmm,” She hummed. “Lift up your skirt. Let me see your leg.”

“What?” You asked, startled.

“I cared for you when you were brought to the colony. I set and splinted your leg. Let me see it.”

“Oh,” You breathed. You figured it was absurd to be self-conscious in the midst of a people who didn’t even wear clothing, but you still slowly and shyly drew up your skirt and pulled down your legging so that she could inspect your once-broken leg.

“Ah,” She said in a low tone, carefully moving your leg around, bending and stretching it. “It healed well. There’s hardly any scar, though you must walk with a slight limp, yes?”

“Yes, madam,” You said. “Thank you for your help.”

“Of course,” She said. She sat back on her haunches and studied your face. “I can’t believe you don’t remember. For such a small child, you certainly could scream like a angry bear.”

You blanched. “I think I’m rather glad I can’t remember that, in truth.”

She laughed a little. “Yes, I suppose you would be. Perhaps the trauma from the pain destroyed your memory of your time with us. It’s not unheard of.”

“Is that your medical opinion, Mari?” The Beast Elder asked.

“Perhaps,” The Raven Elder replied contemplatively. “I’d need to do a further examination before I come to any conclusions.”

“As thorough as ever, I see,” Beast Elder said as Mari returned to her chair.

“There’s a clear way to be sure if her memory is indeed gone, obviously,” One of the others said, a man with speckled brown feathers. “Do a recall spell. That way, if she still protests that she knows nothing, we’ll know she’s lying. We can do nothing until she is willing and capable to tell her story.”

“Very true,” Elder Mari said. “The right to a fair trial does not end with the gandharva, but to all species. She can only defend herself when she knows her whole truth. As it stands now, she can’t speak in her own defense. A recall spell would be the simplest solution.”

“A recall spell?” The Beast Elder said. “No, too involved. It requires a full day and night to cast. And I’m uncertain I have the necessary components to complete it.”

“What precisely is required?” Elder Mari asked. “I’m sure I’d have it in my apothecary. I could go and retrieve the necessary items in less that two days.”

“A vote, then,” Said the speckled elder. “All in favor of performing a recall spell and reconvening once it has been completed?”

The Beast Elder was out-voted five-to-two. He cleared his throat and looked sidelong at a woman in the crowd, who shifted uneasily in her seat.

“Very well,” The Beast Elder said. “I shall compile a list and have it brought to you. Until then, the tribunal is at recess.”

A buzzing of voices erupted around you as you were pulled from your seat and led out of the hall. You could hear Aashiyana’s voice saying to the others, “But we didn’t even get to testify,” before being hushed by Elder Jaya.

You were brought back to your jail and lunch was given to you. You ate numbly, turning the events of the tribunal over in your mind. What exactly would a recall spell entail? Would it hurt? Would you remember things you’d rather have forgotten? More to the point, you’d still had yet to see Gaveshan. He wasn’t at the tribunal. Was he even here? Could Aashiyana have been wrong?

You had nothing to do while in the jail except think. You wondered if this was how the prisoners at the arena felt confined. If so, you felt even more sympathy for them. If you survived this, and somehow got back, you’d liberate all of them if you got the chance.

Sometime mid-afternoon, the door opened and two people walked in. You recognized them as the Beast Elder and the woman he had looked to in the crowd during the tribunal.

“Hello,” You said, attempting to be cordial despite the circumstance. “Am I being summoned?”

“No,” The Beast Elder said. “You truly don’t remember us?”

You were starting to get tired of people asking you that question, but you remained patient. “No, sir. I don’t.”

“My name is Pashanda,” He said. “This is my wife Hemakshi. You’ve met us before.”

“I seem to have met many people I don’t know,” You replied.

“It seems so,” He said, looking at you shrewdly.

His wife was also scrutinizing you closely. She had strange, sharp gold eyes that matched her hair and feathers. Her skin was also a golden color. She was the opposite to her husband’s pale greys and blues. He was cold where she was hot. She had a familiar face, though; you wondered if your memory was beginning to return. She was silent, though it seemed she was aching to get her hands on you. She stepped from foot to foot with restless energy. She kind of frightened you a little.

“The list of components has been given to Elder Mari for retrieval,” Elder Pashanda told you. “When she returns, you will undergo a recall spell. It will take time, and though it will not hurt necessarily, you may feel some discomfort during the procedure.”

“I suspected as much,” You said. “I will submit to any test you give me.”

“We’ll see,” Elder Pashanda said. “We will return later with your dinner. We will bring with us something that may help jog your memory, so that the spell may not be needed.”

“Whatever you think may help,” You replied. “I am at your mercy.”

“Indeed.” Both Elder Pashanda and his wife left.

Around dinnertime, they returned as promised, though they didn’t have the tray with your meal. They stood silently and stared at you with the door ajar, whispering to each other.

“Is there something I need to do?” You asked.

They didn’t answer. Instead, they both stepped aside and Hemakshi opened the door wider. In came the person who had been leaving your meals, only now, in the dim light of sundown, you were able to see them without the sun blinding you to their features. They had warm brown skin but their feathers were a soft heather gray. Their hair, the same color as their wings, fell down their shoulders in ringlets. Their eyes were sharp and golden in color. They were far taller than you remembered, and more muscular, but still as lithe and graceful as they had been when last you’d seen them.

Your hands were still tied, and coupled with the fact that your eyes were glued to the newcomer’s face, it took an awkward minute to get to your feet.

“Rajan,” You breathed, reaching out for him. “Rajan, it’s you! I found you!”

Since my work is no longer searchable, please do me a favor and reblog this story if you enjoyed it. Help me reach a wider audience! To help me continue creating, please consider buying me a Kofi, becoming a Patron, or donating directly to my PayPal!

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My Masterlist

The Exophilia Creator’s Masterlist

#Exophilia #Harpy #Gandharva #Monster Boyfriend #Reader Insert

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zoryany · 4 years

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@kaitodetective1412 sent me 45 -- You may technically be an adult, but you’re still my child.

(an anon did as well and I do plan to answer both in different ways and I will tag kaito in the anon answer as well bc I feel like this isn’t what either of you wanted but it’s what you’re gonna get, for now)

Imperial Royal Skywalker Family AU Pt 1 || Pt 2

send me ficlet prompts – optionally include characters

Dessert passed in relative silence, the atmosphere in the dining room having grown decidedly tense. Luke had really been hoping he could have delayed Han meeting his father until after he’d spoken to his parents, but the Force seemed to be set on toying with him. At least Mother had been able to placate Father before he’d done anything rash, but Luke wasn’t sure that had been entirely preferable, either.

When they’d all finished, Luke moved to usher Han back to his suite, but his mother raised her hand before he had the chance to even rise from his chair. “Leia? Sweetheart, can you please escort Captain Solo to his rooms while your father and I talk to Luke?”

“Yes, Mother.” Leia looked as though she would rather swallow a bantha whole, but she knew better than to argue with their mother, especially when she was already in a dangerous enough mood. She was also probably hoping she’d get to be in on the whole conversation that was to come, which added to her disappointment. Not that it mattered, anyways, because one way or another, she would know exactly what was said, but her expression and presence in the Force soured significantly as she turned her gaze to Han. “Let’s go, Captain. I don’t have all night.”

Han threw a final, withering look over his shoulder as Leia led him from the room, leaving Luke alone with his mother at last. With a severe expression, she turned to face him, and Luke felt his stomach drop out from under him. Out of the eyes of company, it was entirely clear just how upset she really was. All of the guilt that had been eating at him for the past weeks rose back up in him all at once.

“Come, dear,” said his mother as she stood. “Let’s not keep your father waiting.”

Hanging his head, Luke followed his mother with heavy steps to his father’s study. Unlike the rooms of the Palace occupied largely by the Empress, Darth Vader’s spaces, both planetside and on his flagship, tended to be dim and spartan, possessing little in the way of embellishments. He claimed it as practicality -- and, on most occasions, Luke would agree with that -- but right about now, he was convinced that it was meant to make facing him all that more intimidating.

Luke had never been afraid of his father. He understood why people were, and why they should be, and he was all too aware of what someone as powerful as Darth Vader was capable of, but he’d never feared him. His father would never hurt him or Leia, especially not with Mother around to rein in his temper, but there was always a certain anxiety that overtook him whenever his father was angry. He hated the feeling, the sudden urge to cower in submission before a man he’d idolized all his life and who loved him deeply. Leia had always been better than Luke at standing strong in the face of his emotions, perhaps because she had never felt the same level of hero-worship towards him, but Luke was finding himself longing for some of her strength right about now.

His father had been pacing the length of the room when they’d arrived, but the moment they crossed the threshold, he stopped in his tracks and whirled around. The movement was so abrupt that most would assume that kind of speed impossible from a man as large as Vader, but he moved quick enough to send his cape billowing behind him. “Sit,” he commanded, pointing to a chair in the centre of the room.

As he complied, his mother walked to stand to the right of her husband, both parents folding their arms across their chests. His cheeks burned in shame as he avoided looking directly at them. How was it that they could so easily make him feel like he was five years old again?

“You know why you are here, son.” The modulated voice carried a tranquil rage, one that affected him far more than being shouted at ever would. “Explain.”

‘You can do this, Luke,’ he thought silently, sucking in a shuddering breath in an attempt to steady himself. ‘You’ve been practicing this speech in your head since you left.’

"I -- I can’t apologize enough for leaving without warning like that. I know I put you through needless worry, and I’m sure that nothing I can do will make up for that. I just... needed to get away.” Stars, it sounded even lamer saying it out loud than it did in his head. Neither parent looked pleased. He pressed on. “You know I’ve never really liked -- never really been comfortable with any of... well, our status.” Once again, he was jealous of Leia. She wouldn’t be stumbling over her words like this. “I’ve never liked being the Prince, never really liked making public appearances. Never been good at them, either. Leia’s always been better suited for it. And after twenty years of it, I was feeling... claustrophobic. I needed some freedom.”

“Freedom?” It had always been a touchy subject for his father, Luke knew, but he had to hope he could use that to his advantage. “As the Imperial Prince, you have been granted every want, every desire you could hope for. Your mother and I fought tirelessly, made endless sacrifices to create this life for you and your sister. There has never been more freedom in the galaxy, and you stand at the head of it all.”

Was his father being serious? “You... actually expect me to believe that being rich and powerful is the same as being free?” But then, of course his father did. “Maybe you just don’t realize this gilded cage you’ve put me in, Father. I can’t go anywhere beyond our private quarters without an excessive number of guards accompanying me. You and mother have to be aware of my location at every given moment. I’m not allowed to fly or talk to people or do anything without express permission! It’s suffocating! It’s -- ”

“For your safety,” his father growled, hands falling from his chest to form clenched fists at his sides. Next to him, his mother tensed slightly, pursing her lips, but she did nothing more than focus on watching him just a bit more closely. “Everything I have ever done has been to keep you and your mother and your sister safe. The life we live has come at a great cost, and I will not see you throw it all away out of some foolish rebellion. If something would have happened to you -- ”

“But it didn’t!” Luke cried, his voice pitching upward. Any fear or anxiety he’d been feeling had evaporated, and he was prepared to staunchly defend himself. He was not an idiot. He knew exactly how his parents would feel and how they would react to his departure. The decision he made was conscious and purposeful, and he had every intention of justifying it. “I can take care of myself, you know. All that training hasn’t been for nothing. I was careful. I took every precaution. And I’m twenty years old, now, I’m not a little kid anymore.”

While his mother’s face had relaxed a bit, his father did not appear to be convinced. “You may technically be an adult,” he said, slowly, “but you are still my child -- our child. I have torn down the galaxy once to protect you, and I would do it a thousand times over if it keeps you from harm.”

Letting out a noise of frustration, Luke leapt up from his seat. “But that’s just it! I know you have and I know that you were trying to do it again! Don’t think I didn’t notice the swath of destruction you left in your wake when you tried to track me down this time. It’s too much! I love you both so much, but I don’t want the galaxy to grind to a halt just because I ask for some time alone. I can’t stand all the attention, the pomp and circumstance that surrounds everything I do, the formality I’m forced to endure just to attend dinner! I just -- ” His voice broke, and he was embarrassed to find his eyes stinging as he looked imploringly at his parents. “All I wanted was a little bit of normalcy.”

Slumping back in his chair, Luke realized he may not have processed all of this quite as successfully as he’d initially thought. Running away, it turned out, had only served as a distraction from genuinely confronting what was really bothering him.

“Normalcy?” The vocoder’s tone was dull and flat, and his father seemed to have relaxed his stance, somewhat, almost in disbelief. “You wish to be ordinary? Like every other being in this galaxy?” Disbelief was evident, now. His father’s fists had uncurled, his shoulders slackened, and though he could not see his face, Luke got the impression of wide eyes and raised brows. “That... is unacceptable. You are the furthest thing from ordinary, son. You are above those lesser beings, and I would not see you receive anything less than you deserve. ”

"No,” Luke said, quietly but firmly, “I am not above them.” He’d spent countless hours in the Coruscant underground, on treks both known and unknown to his parents, and he’d spent several weeks touring the galaxy. He had interacted with their citizens on a regular basis, and he knew who they really were. They were people, beings with dreams and aspirations and ideals, and they were magnificent. “My abilities and my status don’t make me any better than anyone else. Aren’t we supposed to be ruling the galaxy for them?”

A stubborn set worked its way through his father’s frame, unyielding as ever. “We do. The galaxy has never fared better.” And he could not be certain if that was a truth or a lie, but his father certainly believed it. “But I cannot allow you to stoop to the level of those below your status. The future of our benevolent Empire rests upon you and your sister. You must maintain a particular image if you wish for your control over them to endure.”

“Are you not listening to me?” But Luke already knew the answer to that. Of course his father wasn’t listening to him. Anything that contradicted his very specific view of the universe rarely made it through. “I don’t want that power to rest on me! I’m not interested in having people grovel at my feet or flinch away from me in fear. I don’t want people to worship me or treat me like... like -- ”

“Royalty?” His father’s arms were folded across his chest again. “That is what you are.”

Luke was prepared to cut in, and his father looked like he had more to say, but before either of them could speak up again, his mother stepped up and placed a gentle hand on his father’s shoulder.

“Ani, wait.” Even after twenty years, Luke could still not believe just how quickly his father seemed to settle when his mother intervened. “I think I know what this is about.” His mother’s expression grew tender as she stepped towards him, crouching down before his chair and cupping his face in her hands. “Dearest,” she said with unparalleled tenderness, “was this because of your birthday?”

Reading the sympathy and understanding in his mother’s deep brown eyes, Luke found himself leaning into her touch. She was radiating compassion, searching for understanding, and Luke knew that this was the reason he’d always intended to return home when he’d left. His parents loved him. They cared for him. They wanted what was best for him, even if they didn’t know how to go about it. All he’d wanted was to do something on his own terms.

“Yes...”

Because his birthday had not been on his terms. It hadn’t been on Leia’s, either, but she could adapt to it much easier than her brother. He’d been overwhelmed, surrounded by sycophants who only wanted to know him because he was an heir, and his status meant that he could not enjoy even the smallest of pleasantries at a party that was meant to be for him and his twin. And then the scene during the speeches...

He’d never wanted to leave his family. Luke loved his mother, father and sister with his entire being. But their status had always weighed on him, and that night had been a breaking point.

“Oh, sweetheart...” His mother shifted her grip and pulled him close. Luke squeezed his eyes shut. Tears had been threatening to spring forth since he’d sat back down, and they ran freely down his cheeks when his mother’s arms enveloped him. “Why didn’t you say anything? We could have talked this out. You didn’t need to run away.”

At this point, his father had taken a single step forward, appearing somewhat hesitant but still refusing to relent. Luke chose to focus on his mother, and he found himself sinking in on himself even more. It felt nearly impossible to convey how he felt and what he wanted without hurting their feelings. His mother’s sympathetic gaze coupled with his father’s unyielding stance only served to elevate his guilt.

But there was this sneaking feeling within him that the conversation his mother suggested wouldn’t have gone well regardless.

“I didn’t think you would listen to me,” he said quietly. “You’re still not really listening to me. I had to do something drastic. It felt like the only option, at the time, and I still feel like it’s not enough. Han makes me happy in a way that all that spectacle just - doesn’t. So I just - I need you to understand why - and I mean actually understand. Because I didn’t want to run. And I don’t want to do it again. But I can’t keep going like this...”

For a long moment, his mother looked at him with large, sad eyes before finally withdrawing her hands and stepping away. “Alright,” she said, a quiet resignation working its way into her voice. “I... don’t think we’ll get much further tonight. Why don’t you go wash up for bed, and your father and I will discuss what you’ve told us.” She pressed her lips together and gave him a long, steady look. “We want what’s best for you, Luke. Please know this.”

And he did. The trouble was, their idea of what was best for him didn’t always match up to his own.

“Luke.” His father seemed uncharacteristically hesitant. “Please do not resort to this again.”

There was more his father wanted to say - more they all wanted to say - but Luke felt satisfied that they had, at the very least, made some manner of progress tonight.

“I won’t, Father. I promise.”

#imperial royal skywalker family au #luke skywalker #darth vader #padme naberrie #padme amidala #my writing #star wars fic #i THINK i'm happy with this #hope you folks enjoy!#any feedback is obviously appreciated #so let me know what you think!#and if you want more of this AU #either a continuation #or like other things that go down in it

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azritesx3 · 4 years

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Porcelain Doll - Lucifer & F!Reader

Anon: Hi, could you write a Lucifer x fem|reader fic please, were the girl is younger but they fell in love and then he later finds out that she struggles with a slight form of anorexia, not really a serious one but she sometimes not comfortable with eating however she's actually pretty thin and he tries to help her and he's worried.

Description: How is it that friends you've had for years not realize that something is wrong, but your boyfriend of three months does?

Rating: Teen Warnings: Anorexia, Eating Anxiety

AN: This fic is loosely based on my own personal events. For many, many years I've had difficulty with swallowing food wherever I was, except at home. I used it to my advantage to "lose weight", aka basically starving myself. All that led to was me having an awful stomach ulcer and little to no energy. Thanks to my mom, just last year I finally talked to my doctor about it and she gave me some pills to try. Apparently what I was suffering with was very common. Thanks to these pills I can finally eat out with my friends and family. Though I feel it may have made my depression worse, I'd rather have a few more bad days to being unable to eat. If this sounds like your situation, please talk to your doctor. They're meant to help you, and they won't judge you. AN: Updated August 23, 2020 - Grammar. Reupload!

AO3 / Fanfic Net / Wattpad / DeviantArt

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"So, what's the plan for your 21st birthday girl?!" Your best friend Becky says across the table.

You, along with your group of friends, are eating at a diner not too far from your college. You've all just had a very successful rehearsal for the yearly college play extravaganza, and decided to celebrate with ice cream.

You pick at the straw in your milkshake, "I haven't really thought of anything."

"Oh please!" Jack exaggerates. He points his spoon at you, "There's no way you can't have nothing planned when you're dating that hunk!"

You shrug, "Really, I haven't thought of anything. I haven't had the time to think of a silly birthday with this play."

"A 21st birthday is not silly, it's important!" Jack complains.

"Seriously, Y/N. Tomorrow you'll finally be legal to raid that expensive bar whenever you want!" Becky sighs into her own milkshake, "An alcoholic's dream."

"Really, it's just a waste on her." Viv finishes her banana split, "You don't even drink heavily. I'll never understand why someone like him picked you."

You chuckle slightly. Neither will I.

You and Lucifer Morningstar first met back when you were a senior in high school. The circumstance wasn't ideal. One of the theater teachers was a creep that no one was willing to out. Then, that teacher set his eyes on you and you tore him up. The school's security sent you both to the LAPD station for questioning.

When you arrived you passed by Lucifer, eyes meeting. You remember him looking quizzically between you and the highly beaten up chubby guy next to you. You didn't see him again until after the police let you out of interrogation saying you were free to go [all thanks to your fellow classmates for finally speaking the truth].

Lucifer sat down next to you as you waited for your parents. He was highly impressed that someone of your lithe frame could take down a guy twice, maybe more, your size.

And since then you two have been in contact. The next time you were both face to face with each other was when he asked you to the local park three months ago and asked you out.

But since then, you two haven't spent too much time together. What with you being incredibly busy with this play and him with his club and LAPD job.

"Hellooo! Earth to Y/N!" Becky waved her hand in front of your face.

You blink, "What?"

"You're phone's buzzin'." You quickly dig through your purse and retrieve your phone.

"Speak of the Devil!" Becky laughs when she sees his name as the caller id.

You snort and hush your friends down before answering, "Hello?"

"Hello, darling! I hope I'm not interrupting your rehearsal." Lucifer's beautiful voice, that you love so much, reaches your ear.

"Oh no, you're not! We actually just finished about 15 minutes ago. I'm at a diner now with some friends."

"Lovely! I'll make this quick then so you can get back to socializing."

"I'd much rather listen to you." You whisper but Becky heard you anyways and punched your arm playfully.

Lucifer's laugh makes you smile warmly, "Well, if I remember correctly, tomorrow is your birthday yes?"

"Yup, it is." Your friends are all focused on you now.

"And it's the big 2-1 for you humans correct?"

"Ah, yes. The big adult number. Yup." You laugh.

"Then, if you have nothing planned, I'd like to take you out. Some dinner, then some wonderful dessert back at my place. How does that sound, love?"

Your face immediately heats up as various thoughts run through your mind. All your friends start wooing and giggling, "Y-yeah, no. I mean! No, I haven't planned anything. And that sounds lovely!" You stutter out.

"Wonderful! I'll pick you up around 6pm. Can't wait to see you again, my dear."

You smile, "Same to you, Lucifer. I'll see you then!" You hang up and are immediately bombarded with questions.

"Guys! Chill out!" You hush them down again, "Yes that was him and yes he's taking me out tomorrow for my birthday."

"Thank You oh mighty Lucifer!" Jack says as he and Viv bow their heads.

"Oh stop that!" You say.

"Where's he taking you?!" Becky asks excitedly.

"He just said dinner and...um…" your fierce blush returns.

"Oooh! My girl's finally gonna get laid!" Jack jumps up and down in his seat.

"Probably just a kiss. You know how she is." Viv replies.

"Well come on! Let's hurry back to the dorm! We gotta help you pick out an outfit!" Becky says and pushes everyone out of their seats.

You laugh, nervously.

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"Seriously?" The old waitress cleans up the table you and your friends were at five minutes prior.

"What is it now, Grace? No tip?" Another waiter comes around.

"No, they gave me a tip. I just don't understand why these youngins' nowadays waste money." She motions to your untouched small size milkshake.

"Maybe they weren’t hungry?" The waiter shrugs and walks away.

"That damn girl never eats." Grace murmurs under her breath as she cleans the table.

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You're sitting on one of the comfy leather chairs in your dorm lobby. You sit properly in your sparkling dress, hands clenched together on top of your knee, and head held high. An acting technique you learned yourself to quiet the nerves.

You wish you could say you were nervous about the date. You suppose you are, in a way. But not the whole date. Not even about the possible "dessert".

No. You were nervous, maybe more terrified, of the upcoming dinner.

He's going to find out.

No he won't. If your friends of many years couldn't there's no way he will.

He's going to find out. He's going to find out and that'll be the end of it.

Please, you've seen the women on him in his club. He'll love it.

Yeah…

"There's my darling!"

You snap out of it and turn your head to see Lucifer, in a well pressed suit, walking through the entryway to you.

"Lucifer!" You have a genuine surprised smile on your face, momentarily forgetting the nerves, and rush over to him.

He chuckles as you two embrace and he kisses your cheek, "I thought you'd text me when you were outside!"

"And miss you looking positively powerful in that chair? Heaven forbid." He gives you his classic flirtatious smile, making you blush and laugh.

"Come along, darling!" He holds his arm out to you and you take it, "Let the celebration begin!"

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

Lucifer takes you to what has to be the most expensive restaurant in LA.

You're both led to a corner of the vast room. It's pretty dark, lit only by a single candle on the clothed table and a dim lamp on the wall. As you skim through the menu looking for the cheapest, and smallest, meal possible, Lucifer interrupts your searching when he orders an appetizer.

He chuckles slightly at your raised brows, "Yes, I suppose I should have asked you first, but this dish is delectable darling. You'll love it! Plus, it's cut in shared pieces."

You smile back and hope the dim lighting hid your gulp.

The waiter comes back with the large shared appetizer and asks what you two would like for the main course.

Lucifer stops you again before you can answer, "If you don't mind, my dear, I'd love to get this meal here." He points to an item on your menu, and it happened to be the one thing you avoided eye contact with. It's a fairly large dish with various slices of steak and vegetables. In the small print of the description it says that this dish is suggested for parties.

"It happens to be one of their best, and since this is your 21st birthday I believe you deserve the largest and tastiest item here!" Lucifer smiles brightly at you, teeth and all.

You clutch the menu to not show your shaking body. You give him a small smile back, "Oh Lucifer, you know I don't consider myself as one of those people who think they deserve the best of everything."

"Of course and that's one of the many reasons I adore you, but darling," he leans in slightly. His hypnotic eyes and smile are lite beautifully by the candle, "You're the Devil's partner now. You deserve, and will always get the best."

You swallow again, but not from nerves. This time it was completely heat based.

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The dinner went surprisingly...well!

Lucifer never questioned about your slow eating. Never pushed more food on you. Instead, he made you feel extremely comfortable. He told the waiter to not come back unless he holds his hand up, and you noticed the other tables around you haven't been filled with people.

It was just you and Lucifer, pretty much. Enjoying some amazing food and having wonderful conversations. You felt so at home you ate more than you probably did since...well, freshman year of high school.

Him seeming to work so hard to make you comfortable did make you wonder though…

Currently, you are sitting on Lucifer's stupidly comfortable Italian sofa, watching some mind numbing television. You still wore your dress, but now you had Lucifer's suit jacket over top and shoes off.

"Happy Birthday to you…" You could hear Lucifer's voice faintly coming from his back kitchen. You stretch your neck to look in that direction.

"Happy Birthday to you!" Lucifer comes around the corner. He's carrying a serving tray that holds two wine glasses, a bottle of wine, and a cute little cake.

"Happy Birthday, my darling Y/N!" He sets the tray down in front of you on the coffee table and sits next to you.

"Happy Birthday to you!" He smiles lovingly at you, and your heart is about ready to explode. You give him a hug along with a kiss on his forehead, nose, and cheeks before blowing out your candles.

"What did you wish for, darling?" He asks. You curl into his open arms.

"Can't say, Lucifer. Otherwise it won't come true."

He huffs, but kisses your head, "Silly humans and their superstitions." You both enjoy the comfortable silence before he speaks again.

"Care for a bite, darling? Made it myself this morning."

"Umm…" you froze. Your mind became increasingly aware with just how much food you ate today, "Maybe in the morning. I'm pretty full right now."

Lucifer just hums in response, and that just makes your suspicion about tonight grow.

You lift yourself up, still in his arms but far enough away to look him in the eyes correctly, "Lucifer...I have a question."

He just hums again.

"Do you...um," you swallow and feel the color of embarrassment rise on your cheeks, "Do you...know?"

He hums again before answering, "In part." You instantly deflate and go to move away from him, but he pulls you back just as quick. His hand runs through your hair in a calming motion, "It's nothing to be ashamed about, Y/N."

"How did you figure it out? My friends haven't even realized it."

"Well, when I saw you look just the same after so many years it worried me. Typically I hear from young women the dreaded 'after school 20'. It seems that phase has passed you, dear."

You sigh, "Yeah well, I can't remember exactly when or how it happened, but sometime in sophomore year I started having trouble with eating in a public setting. I couldn't even eat over at friends' homes. Only in my own." You curl your legs up to hold them. Lucifer continues to stroke your hair, "And then I met you and...well…I figured I wouldn't tell anyone and just deal with it. I was a chubby kid, and I was amazed with how much weight I lost so fast."

"Well, I am quite upset to hear that you thought I'd be ok with you starving yourself." Lucifer frowns and you look surprised at him.

"But...a lot of women who are all over you look like me, even less! And you're all over them! I thought-"

"I'm into human women, darling. Not porcelain dolls."

You look away from him. Tears brim your vision, "So, what? Are you disgusted with me now? Or did you just ask me out out of pity?"

"If I was disgusted by you I wouldn't have asked you to be mine, and I don't do pity, darling." Lucifer hears you sniffle.

"My darling Y/N," Lucifer Morningstar becomes incredibly soft. He gently brings his hands to your face and nudges you to look at him, "I've come to care deeply about you, love. And I don't enjoy seeing someone I care that much about in turmoil." He wipes your tears away.

"Allow me to help, darling. You keep going like this...I'm afraid I'll have you for even less time."

You stare into his eyes and can see nothing but truth. Your hands move to hold his face gently. Rubbing his stubble, you slowly bring your face closer. Closing your eyes you and him kiss. Soft, sweet, filled with an unspoken love and promise.

"Ok, Lucifer. Please, help me."

#Lucifer Morningstar #lucifer x reader #lucifer netflix #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer #reader #fem reader #fanfic #fanfiction #azritesx3

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smartguyreviewed · 4 years

Text

1x6 - Baby It’s You and You and You

Original air date: April 30, 1997

Five episodes in and it’s already Prom™, AKA the most important event in a teenager’s life, right next to that huge rager that the richest kid in school throws post-graduation. Yvette and her episode-appointed friend are discussing possible themes. The blasian girl suggests something eco-related. TJ suggests Star Wars. Yvette has to remind TJ that Piedmont has no money for an IT department or AP classes, so there is no way in hell they can afford anything that doesn’t come from Party City.

Because the Prom™ is the thing, Marcus and Mo are also discussing it and how they have to find dates. Well, Marcus is. Mo has a date in his new squeeze Shirley, played by local vampire Bianca Lawson. She will show up again but will be named Tracy. Jesus be a continuity!

Marcus is in disbelief that Shirley would be into Mo, as if Mo is hideous or something. She defends her temporary man and says that he is a sensitive soul. Mo then proceeds to plagiarize “My Girl” by the Temptations but replaced “girl” with “Shirl.” Either sis was raised in the wild or she is the adoptive child of racist white parents because there’s no way she didn’t catch that. Although I do love that she told Mo it’s okay for him to cry in front of her. Together, we can all eradicate toxic masculinity!

After the credits, we see Marcus at the Henderson crib, elated about snagging a date with Mariah and HOLY SHIT, continuity! I spoke too soon. Mariah was the girl Mo and Marcus were fighting over in the pilot episode. She even has the same name and is played by the same actress. Wow. Usually, the only girl who gets mentioned repeatedly is “the wonderous Shaundra.” We never see her. She’s like the Heather Sinclair of the show and it’s obvious that she’s Marcus’s jump off.

Marcus goes on about how the Prom™ is so important and TJ, who was just offering expensive ideas about his ideal theme, is now dismissing the Prom™ as nothing but a room full of hormonal cases dancing to K-Ci & JoJo. He then says what would later be considered a #mood. Instead of socializing with other people, he’d rather watch Shark Week on the Discovery Channel. Marcus cracks a joke about how you never see black people on those shows and Floyd chimes in saying “we don’t mind lowering them down, though!” And they pound on it! If this were on television today, a bunch of white people would write letters and complain. I love this show.

Yvette is able to see through TJ’s facade. She knows he actually wants to go and labels his feelings denial because he’s devaluing the dance since he can’t go with anyone his own age. Marcus is against TJ going at all because he doesn’t want to babysit. I get it. I’d hate babysitting my little brother also, especially if he’s somewhere watching me dry hump girls.

The next scene, Floyd is discussing a possible roof job with a reverend. It just so happens that during their little chit chat, the Prom™ came up and Floyd let on about how TJ really wants to go but needs a same age date. How convenient that the rev has a daughter named Lily who would love to go to a dance! Gilligan cut to Floyd telling TJ that he has a date for him. Marcus barges into the room also informs TJ that he has a date. I hate that nobody even bothered to ask him first. He even lampshades this and says that Floyd’s action was pushy. Marcus clearly wants TJ to go with Mariah’s little sister because then he would be preoccupied enough for him to try to finger Mariah somewhere without TJ hovering around. He even calls Floyd’s pick a loser. Marcus is hilarious.

TJ actually does something selfless here! He overheard that Floyd sold a lot of slate to that church guy and now he’s getting pizzaid! TJ goes along with all of this because he wants to make everyone happy, exhbiting people pleaser traits. Every now and then, TJ just turns into this, even though he’s a master manipulator. However, TJ’s choice to please everyone goes south because now Yvette has a girl for him. He just went from wanting to veg out at home to now having three dates. To remedy the problem, they bring in Mo and you already know this plan is going to unravel as fast as it was conceived. Mo is wearing a black beret with his otherwise normal 90s garb, laying out the schematics for TJ to have all three women be his date.

Cut to the night of the dance. Marcus and TJ are mad jittery for obvious reasons. We get a cute little shot of TJ in his three piece suit and Floyd is foaming at the mouth to find his camera but Marcus is not having it.

Just as they’re about to leave, Floyd says that the rev is coming to the house. Not how they planned but per Marcus, they’re now picking up extra time. However, because Marcus seems to be cursed whenever he speaks positively about anything, Mariah shows up with her little sister. He slams the door in her face.

Now TJ and Marcus are panicking. Marcus opens up the door and lies that his fly was unzipped. They figure out a way to get Mariah’s little sister away before Lily and the rev show up. Then the doorbell rings and guess who? It’s none other than little Penny Proud.

Of course, like other love interests in this show, Lily went into the witness protection program and came back in season 2 as a hood tomboy named Brandy. Seriously, you could write conspiracy theories for these characters because the writers are clearly too lazy to rewatch episodes.

The doorbell rings again, only this time it’s Mo, dressed casually and thinking he’s about to shoot the shit with Marcus. Marcus asks why he isn’t at the dance and Mo responds, “That was tonight?” I mean, we all have that one friend! This was particularly funny because he only masterminded the plan yet forgot what night it was. He leaves and says he needs to contact Tuxedo Hut because they have a drive through. Mo is fucking hilarious!

Last but not least, Yvette, in a cheongsam-style dress that I love but is totally cultural appropriation shows up with her pick for TJ’s date and--fucking Christ, Naya Rivera shows up in a future episode as well but as this girl named Kelly that TJ spills a drink on. Here she is with a different name. UGH. I don’t know why I’m even complaining anymore.

Eventually, with one girl being held hostage in a treehouse, another in TJ’s room looking at a computer she doesn’t know a thing about, they eventually come downstairs and complain. Now they’re all in the kitchen with their arms folded looking at TJ. His response? “I overbooked.” I didn’t realize how funny this episode was.

Floyd takes TJ away to explain a very valuable lesson about setting boundaries and encourages him to say no without worrying that he’s disappointing anyone. I am still learning this lesson as an adult, so go Smart Guy for illustrating this so well.

TJ goes to the dance with all three girls and manages to dance with all of them. Pretty much everyone got what they wanted. Aww, underage polygamy is so cute!

Stuff I noticed:

- Yvette and her bestie are dressed alike.

#bianca lawson #smart guy #tj henderson #yvette henderson #marcus henderson #mo tibbs #tahj mowry #naya rivera #kyla pratt #90s #nineties #disney #john marshall jones #jason weaver #essence atkins

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miracloud · 5 years

Text

Sealed Fate

han seungwoo x y/n

angst, fluff, bit rated

arranged marriage au

Part One } Part Two (to be posted)

You were appalled to hear that your parents agreed to set you on an arranged marriage. You were eating dinner and they slide a picture of your soon-to-be-husband.

“Are you serious?”

In the picture, you see a smiling Seungwoo wearing a suit. He’s a schoolmate and a popular one to top that. A good-looking friendly man is what he’s known in school but at some point, you were able to see past through his mask. You overheard him, along with his other friends, joking about the women following them around. From that moment on, you knew he’s a man far from your ideals.

“Darling, we’re just worried about you. You are single your whole life and we just want to give you happiness”, your mother said trying to convince you.

“Do you think that men are the only source of happiness? And mom, I’m still young. I still got plenty of time left.” There was no use. In the end, both of your parents had already agreed. There will be a dinner tomorrow to formally discuss the arrangement.

The next day, it’s a good thing you haven’t crossed paths with Seungwoo. You don’t know how to face him or if he even knows about the marriage. A car was waiting for you after class. A dress was prepared for you to wear but you ain’t wearing that. You were the only one they’re waiting for. The expressions your parents had almost made you laugh. You walked in wearing a black sweater which covers up to your knees and rubber shoes. You sat in front of Seungwoo while looking astonished.

“Ow!”, you exclaimed after your mother pinched you on the legs. “What’s got in your head? Why are you wearing that?!”, she said. Your father, on the other hand, apologized for your behavior which Seungwoo’s parents politely accepted.

“You have a really interesting formal wear”, Seungwoo remarked. You rolled your eyes. “Well, I’m not dressing up for something I’m against with. And are you even fine with this arrangement?”

He shook his head. “No, I went here to also say that I’m against this marriage”, he said enough for everyone in the table to hear. “Good”, you said and you looked at the adults in the table.

“This might be too rushed for the two of you but this is needed for the two families”, Seungwoo’s mother said.

“No matter how much you protest, you don’t have any choice. This dinner is not for hearing your opinions, it’s for formalities sake. Nothing will change”, Seungwoo’s father strongly added. In the end, only the four adults talked while the two of you were silently eating.

The dinner ended and you're heading to the car but you shift direction and went the opposite way. You heard your mother calling you back numerous times. "I'm not going home", you shouted back as you ran away.

Seungwoo witnessed everything and he can't believe why he never noticed a schoolmate with such a strong personality.

"I was expecting you. Your mother called", your friend said as she makes way so you can enter. You've done this before to the point that your parents already know where you're going.

You greeted her parents and went upstairs. "What's the problem this time?". You shook your head and decided not to drag your friend into the mess.

You were woken up by your friend quite hastily. "Hey, did you make a big problem? A car's waiting for you outside." You stood up immediately not to make more problems for her family. It's the first time that someone fetched you. You were shocked to see your parents fully dressed in formal wear.

"Where are we going?", you asked as you wished that whatever you are thinking is not true. "We'll stop by a shop then we're going to the church." You’re about to open the car door when your mother held your hand and with trembling lips, she said: “We’ll denounce you if you run away.”

Tears were falling as they dress you up in a wedding gown. Everything’s too fast. You knew your parents can be selfish but not to this point. As you were on the way to the church, you wished that Seungwoo’s not inside, that he disagreed and run away. Much to your dismay, he’s inside waiting for your arrival. Unlike your ideal wedding, the groom looks completely uninterested. The church is silent with only your parents and church personnel inside.

At the end of the day, your surname’s changed and you have a new home. The moment you’ve arrived in the new house provided by Seungwoo’s parents, he changed clothes and went somewhere else. You’ve examined the place. Everything’s provided but there’s only one room. Seems like they made sure that you’ll sleep in the same bed. You grabbed a pillow and a blanket and you went to the couch.

When Seungwoo returned, he saw you sleeping on the couch but never cared. He went to the bedroom to have a comfortable sleep. For the following weeks, this is your routine. You wouldn’t talk to each other at school and even at home. He would always eat dinner outside and would only come back when you are already asleep.

It was a Saturday and Seungwoo did not go home. You decided to clean the house and then cook some pasta for yourself as a reward. After that, you did some schoolwork. You did not notice the time and it was already evening.

You woke up when you heard a moan coming from his bedroom. Seriously? He would even bring a woman here? The marriage is on paper only and hearing that he’s with someone else did not affect you but bringing a stranger inside your house is disrespectful. The sounds coming from his room did not stop and fortunately, one of your friends live quite near so you went to her house. It must be a blessing that you have friends who are so in love with sleepovers.

It was 7 in the morning when you decided to go back. Hopefully, that woman left already. While you were on your way to your house, you saw an approaching car from afar. Your eyes grew wide when you realized that it’s your parents’ car. You hurriedly opened the door and went to Seungwoo’s bedroom. He was startled to see you opening the door. Not to mention that it was the first time that you actually entered his room. Before he can ask you, you put your hand in front of his face to stop him from talking.

“Did that woman went home already?”, you said as you catch your breath.

“What?” You rolled your eyes and stared at him. “Y-yes, she went home early in the morning.”

You opened the cabinet and searched for clothes he can wear. “What are you doing?”, he asked shocked with your actions. “My parents are on the way and I don’t want to hurt them by knowing that you slept with another woman.” You threw a hoodie and some pants to match it with. “Wear that now.” After saying that, you went to the living room to bring your things inside. You groaned seeing Seungwoo still half-naked. The young man not understanding the urgency of the situation.

“Seriously?! Why are you so slow?”, you said irritated. Seeing that he doesn’t have any plans to move faster, you made him wear the clothes. In front of you is a man older than you acting like a kindergarten student. “Ooh, you’re finally acting like my wife now”, he said amused. You looked at him with a blank face. “No, I think I’m acting like your mother now.” You shoot up when you heard the doorbell. Securing your arms with Seungwoo ’s, you dragged him outside. Before you opened the door, you noticed Seungwoo’s bed hair and tried to fix it before facing your parents. Seungwoo, on the other hand, had a playful smile all throughout the morning.

“If you’re still not informed, we’re going to act like a happy couple.”

“Oooh, why?”, Seungwoo asked with a smirk on his lips. “Because I don’t want my parents to be sad knowing that I’m living in hell while staying with you.” Seungwoo was shocked, almost guilty, hearing your words. He wanted to protest but you opened the door in a hurry. You flashed a big smile as you greeted your parents.

“I’m so happy seeing that both of you are doing well. I was worried that we made the wrong decision”, your mother said. “Of course not. It’s still hard but you know, we’re still adjusting”, you replied as you console your mother. “It was hard to sleep at night knowing that we sealed your fate forcefully”, your mother continued as you noticed the tears forming in her eyes. You held her hand and assured her that it’s fine. You knew that your mother will soon realize her mistake but seeing her cry will never be pleasant to your eyes.

After a few hours, they finally left. You immediately remove the smile on your face along with the loving holding hands with Seungwoo.

"Where did you went last night?", he asked.

"I went to my friend. And Seungwoo, please refrain from bringing women here. It was too noisy."

"Well, I can make any woman scream for my name", he said with a smug look on his face. You rolled your eyes. The day went on and it was very uncomfortable that Seungwoo did not leave the place. Usually, you can do your own plans but it's hard knowing that he's observing you the whole time.

Soon, sleepiness came to you. You arranged your bed aka couch and went to sleep. Later on that night, you heard a clicking sound from the doorknob. You ran to Seungwoo's room and went beside him.

"Woah woah. What are you doing? ", Seungwoo asked, completely awake.

"I heard someone opening the door and your parents are the only ones who own a spare key to this house. They're probably here to observe us secretly", you whispered.

You were startled when you felt Seungwoo's hand on your waist. "Then, we should at least play the part", he suggested. You wanted to protest but you heard the bedroom door opening that you hugged Seungwoo from the rush. While waiting for them to go, you unconsciously went to sleep.

You woke up when you felt a movement beside you. You opened your eyes to see Seungwoo looking at you with a small smile. “Good morning, wife”. You were about to push him when you remembered what happened last night. You hugged him again. “Are they still here?”, you whispered. He nods. So you continued hugging him but actually, they left already and only stayed for a few minutes. It was quiet so you asked him again one more time and he showed a playful smile. You blushed too hard and pushed him away. You hurriedly went outside and prepared for school.

Seungwoo’s smiling the whole time. Blushing hard from a simple hug made him think how cute and innocent you are. From that time, you would act in front of your parents and in-laws whenever they visit. You also talked to Seungwoo often now even at school though you panicked when he first approached you.

One day, you were eating alone in the cafeteria when someone sat beside you. “I’m almost finished. Why are you late?”, you said, assuming that it’s your friend. It was silent. You looked at his direction and you have Seungwoo sitting too close to you. Students were staring and you shoved that big piece of bread into your mouth and stood up. Seungwoo held your wrist and made you sit again.

“My parents will join us for dinner tonight.”

“What? Why?!”

“I don’t know. I just hope that your cooking abilities are good”, and he went away. Wait, I’m going to cook dinner?

You panicked and you can’t concentrate in class. All you can think of is the dinner and what meal will you cook. Once the school bell rang, you went to a nearby supermarket and bought ingredients. You were expecting that Seungwoo would atleast help but guess what? He did not. He went home when you are already finished cooking.

A few minutes after, his parents came. Again you put up the act and Seungwoo’s hands were all over your body. You hated it.

“y/n, I’m sorry for the abrupt visit. We just want to see you two again.”

“It’s no problem at all”, you replied. You invited them to eat in the meal on the table. Seungwoo also helped himself and grabbed a spoonful of it.

“Wow, you’re good in cooking!”, he exclaimed. You were about to boast but then remembered the two adults in front of you.

“Son, have you not tried her cooking before?”, his mother asked.

“Ah, I have. It’s just that she never cooked anything this good.” His parents laughed with his remark.

The dinner was fairly quiet until his father cleared his thorat.

“So.. I know you two are pretty young but when can we get a grandchild?”, he asked.

Gurl, the food you were chewing just flew out everywhere. You continuously tap your chest to breath. You were too shocked. You heard Seungwoo snickered and gently pushed the glass of water on your direction.

“Hahaha. Was that question too much?”, his father remarked.

You were about to respond but Seungwoo just placed his arm on your shoulders, pulling you closer.

“Don’t worry too much about it. We’ll get you not only a grandchild but grandchildren.”

“My my. I guess, your relationship is really doing great.”

You were blushing profusely and secretly pinching Seungwoo’s leg.

They left shortly after. You pushed Seungwoo’s arm away and went to the kitchen to wash the dishes. You were humming to yourself when two arms surrounded you. Seungwoo’s hands rested on the counter with you on the middle.

“I think we should start trying for a child”, he whispered.

You felt your ears violated. You covered it immediately and push Seungwoo away.

“W-what are you s-s-saying?? T-that was for show!”

“Oh really? You know, you’re just being stubborn. We can make this work out”, he suggested while coming closer to you.

You turned around, closed the faucet, threw your rubber gloves, and run to the bedroom. You made sure it was locked.

“What are you running away from? And I sleep there”, he asked through the door. You can already picture that playful smile he has.

“You sleep at the sofa tonight!”

You jumped to the bed. You momentarily forgot that he sleeps here alone most of the time. The bedsheet smells like him. The pillow smells like his shampoo. You slapped your cheek when you realized what you were doing.

The next day, you slowly opened the door. When no one’s around, you knew that he is already at school since he has an earlier class than you. Going to your room, you brought out your towel and other bathing essentials. You opened the bathroom, only to see Seungwoo half-naked. A white towel was hugging his waist and you assumed that he just finished bathing because of his wet hair.

“W-wwwaaaah! You should have locked the door”, you shouted while attempting to look away but that perfect body made you peek some times. He held your hand, pulling it away from your face.

“Wife, why are you covering your face? You should be accustomed to this already”, and he has that playful smile again. You pushed him hard, outside the bathroom and you locked the door.

“Get dressed!”, you shouted and you heard him laugh.

When you stepped outside, he’s nowhere to be found. You sighed loudly.

“How was the quiz? It was really difficult for me”, your friend said after the professor left. It’s your only class for the day and you thought that you will have a fairly good rest but your professor unexpectedly prepared a quiz. You’re just wishing that it will at least be over the passing grade.

As you were approaching the door to exit, you saw Seungwoo outside and by instinct, you hid. Why is he here?

“What are you doing? Let’s go”, your friend said.

“You can go first”, you half-whispered.

“Uh.. okay. See you tomorrow then.” You’ve been sighing a lot this day.

“Aren’t you y/n’s friend? Is she here?”, you heard Seungwoo.

Oh shit. Please don’t tell him.

“y/n, she’s inside. I’ll call here for you”, she energetically answered. You hated that.

“y/n, Seungwoo’s looking for you”, she said and right after ,Seungwoo peeked into the classroom and he laughed seeing your hiding position.

Seungwoo thanked her and she bid goodbye. You facepalmed. I should have told her about what happened.

Seungwoo crouched beside you.

“So why are we hiding?”, he teased.

“H-hiding? I’m not hiding!”, you exclaimed.

“I’ve noticed that you stutter a lot when you are with me. Is there a meaning behind that?”, he responded.

“Shut up”, and you marched away. You heard his footsteps. He rested his arm on your shoulders which you grew to like.

“Get away from me.”

“Hmm? Not too convincing, are you? Let’s eat lunch together. I don’t have a class till 3 PM.”

You can’t really argue since you were also on your way for lunch. He led you to a nearby café. You silently ate. You realized that it’s the first time you ate with him without putting up an act to your parents and in-laws.

You realized that he’s a fine listener. He also shared funny stories during the meal. The atmosphere’s turning quite well.

“Seungwoo?”

Both of you looked at the voice’s direction. You were faced with a beautiful woman with great fashion sense. You knew at that moment who she was. With the way she talked with him and how natural she touched him, she’s one of Seungwoo’s women.

You didn’t know if she still meets with women since he never brought a woman home after that time. From the rumors you heard before, he’s been with different women at the same time. You did not really expect that he’ll become faithful once he’s married, or did you?

“Who is she?”, she asked.

Before Seungwoo can respond, you stood up and extended your hand.

“Hello. I’m y/n, his friend. We were just discussing about a school project.”

“I knew it. I mean, you’re too far from Seungwoo’s ideal type”, she said and it hurt. Why does it hurt? Is shouldn’t hurt, right?

You forced a laugh. You picked up your bag and invited her to sit on your empty seat.

“You’re going already?”, she asked.

“Yes. I have some personal errands to do”, you reasoned.

It hurts. Tears were falling on your cheeks. You failed to realize that you fell for him while doing those pretentious acts. You went home and immediately laid on the sofa, while covering yourself with a blanket. You heard the door knob clicked and you muffled your cry. As his footsteps grew closer, your heart was beating faster. There was silence for a few seconds.

“Are you awake?”, he asked. You did not reply.

“Sorry about what happened.”

Why is he apologizing? You were the one who’s wrong.

“Don’t apologize. It’s totally fine. We are only married on paper”, you reminded yourself him. He did not respond and you heard the bedroom door open and then closed.

The next morning, you woke up early, planning to avoid him for the rest of the day. You went to your friend’s house. Whenever you go to her house, it’s usually because you are in trouble. You reassured her that nothing’s wrong and you simply wanted to visit her.

You spent the day playing card games and gossiping about the people at school. Later on, he mother went inside the room to serve some snacks. She was about to leave when she paused, as if forgetting to something,

“Ah right. y/n, a young man came looking for you. He shortly left after knowing that you’re staying here.”

Eh? Don’t tell me it’s him.

“Do you remember how he looked like?”, you asked.

“Hmm.. a tall man with oriental eyes, and pointy nose. He also had a sweet smile”, she replied.

“Ah! He also had a tattoo on his collar bones. I didn’t mean to see it but it was slightly peeking out of his shirt”, she added.

That’s definitely Seungwoo. Why did he look for me?

Thinking that it might be an emergency, you sent him a message.

It was getting late. You thanked your friend and her family, for letting you stay. They invited you to stay over but you decided not to. It’s time to stop running away.

You heard the noise coming from the television, the creaking sound of the sofa as if Seungwoo’s sitting up tight and you were correct. You stepped to the living room, seeing Seungwoo sitting on the sofa with a smile on his face.

“I’m back”, you greeted him.

Before you can enter the bedroom to change clothes, Seungwoo called your name.

“y/n, do you have time? Let’s talk.”

“Sure.”

When you opened the door, he turned off the television and lightly tapped the space beside him. You scooted as far as possible. He scooted closer in response. You raised your hand, forming a wall between you and him.

“Okay, what is wrong with you?”

“You know.. I haven’t told you before.. but I’m quite serious about this”, he answered.

“Serious with what?”

“With us. Usually, I would have made a move already but I have been going with your pace. I learned that you haven’t had a boyfriend before so I don’t want to rush anything.”

Wait what? What is he saying?

“You’re serious, huh? Then how do you explain that woman who we met at the café?”, you mentioned.

“I was seeing her before we met. I never met any other woman after we got married.”

You stopped a smile. You are mentally hitting yourself for feeling happy.

“You were really jealous because of that, huh?”, he teased.

“Huh? O-of course not! And why would I even believe you?!Remember our first week here? You brought a woman home.”

“Ah, you’ve misinterpreted that. I did not bring any woman here. I was watching a movie then it has that kind of scene. That was the reason why I was so out-of-my-head when you walked in that morning. I did not know what you were talking about.”

Nothing can explain the embarrassment that you feel. Seungwoo can see that your mind is in a jumble. Whenever he sees you nervous or panicked, he kept help teasing you.

He touched your cheeks, placing his hand on your jaw. He played a smile feeling your tense body. Your eyes dilate and he saw his clear reflection in it. You were looking at him. He closed the distance and gently placed his lips on yours.

“How about we start from the very beginning? Let’s start going on dates, miss virgin”, he teased masked behind a gentle smile.

You pushed him hard, sending him to the other side of the sofa.

“Get away from me! And I’ll stay in the bedroom alone tonight!”

You made sure that he can hear the locked door. Seungwoo on the other hand saw this as a challenge, a fun challenge to top on that.

“Let’s see who will surrender first, y/n”, he said to himself.

a/n : part two to be posted. will explore the development of their relationship in the next part ~

#produce x 101 #produce x 101 scenarios #han seungwoo #victon #victon scenarios #x1 #x1 scenarios #x1 seungwoo #kpop scenarios #kpop fluff #han seungwoo scenarios

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igottoomuchwriting · 4 years

Text

We’re A Million Worlds Apart

Series: Part One/Previous Part/Next Part

Zoe shut the front door behind her, dropping her backpack in relief. Junior year was giving her a run for her money. Upperclassmen had always warned her that junior year of high school was the hardest year of high school, especially Connor on the rare occasions he decided to share information about his life, but she never believed them. She just thought Connor was lying or just not trying hard enough.

Now that she was actually a Junior, she realizes that she should’ve listened. She is trying to get as many credits as she can, she’s constantly preparing for standardized tests, and on top of that her parents are already making her look at colleges that she wants to apply to. The added stress of trying to convince them that a music school would be best for her is not helping either, just adding useless anxiety to her everyday life.

With the week over, she just wanted to lay in bed all weekend and watch her shows. She never really gets a chance to relax over the weekend and she wants to use the most of the time that she can.

“Mom?” she yelled into the house. When she received no answer, she tried again. “Dad?” Again, no answer.

Zoe rolled her eyes. Of course they weren’t home. At this point, it’s not even the fact that they aren’t home that’s the issue, it’s just Zoe would like to know that she would have this giant house to herself before they got home. Phones were invented for a reason.

She made her way up her stairs, instrument in hand, already craving the snacks that she kept hidden in her room. No matter what diet her Mom decided that they should go on, there is no way that they can take her away from her mint Oreos. She needs her comfort food no matter what.

As Zoe got closer to the top of the stairs, she heard a voice laughing. She paused at the stop, staring at the hall in confusion. She swore that she was the only one home, but the voice suggests otherwise.

She quietly makes her way down the hall towards the sound. She sees light coming from Connor’s door and that’s when it clicks. Connor must be high and watching some dumb videos on YouTube.

“Wouldn’t be the first time..” Zoe mumbles. She walks past the door, ready to get on with her evening, when she hears Connor laugh again.

“Alright you dumbass, I get it!” he laughs. Zoe stares at the door, deeply confused. There was no way that her brother was dumb enough to try and sneak someone into the house.

Then again, who would he have to sneak in? As far as Zoe knows, the only friend that he has would be Evan, but Evan doesn’t seem like the kind of kid that would sneak into a friend’s house to get high.

“I can’t believe you are comparing me to a Koala, Evan. That’s such a dick move.” Koalas? “I don’t care if you think that I would adapt out of spite and I don’t give a shit if you have enough evidence. I don’t wanna hear that you compare me to a fucking koala.”

What...would even prompt that kind of conversation? Why is Evan comparing her brother to a koala? Koalas are soft and sweet and slow and her brother is...not.

There was a pause on the other line, almost for a full minute, and Zoe was about to leave her brother to his weird conversaton when she heard him go ‘hm?’. She leaned in closer when she heard her brother let out a heavy sigh.

“You want me to do what?”

That is a great question. What does Evan want him to do?

“She hates me Evan. There is no amount of talking that is ever going to fix that or any aspect of our relationship.”

For once, Zoe also agrees with Connor. Evan most likely told Connor about the conversation that they had in the hallway. While Zoe hasn’t talked to Evan a lot, she gets the feeling that he would be the kind of person that would want everything to work out between everyone. As sad as it is, that will never happen between Connor and Zoe. Zoe doesn’t think that she can even try to become closer to someone that has threatened to kill her.

“Okay. Let’s say that for some fucking reason Zoe and I decide to talk about our feelings like some normal ass siblings, what would I even say to her?”

There’s nothing that he could say that would make Zoe listen. They would end up fighting two minutes into the conversation and it would just worsen their relationship. Any kind of communication between the two just seemed pointless.

“What do I want to say to her?” Connor continued. There was a long pause. She guesses that he was trying to think of something.

Probably not anything nice, that fucking druggie Zoe thought.

“I’d want to tell her that I still see her. Even if I’m high and angry all the fucking time, I still notice things she does.”

Wait...what?

“I...She does this thing when she gets antsy, and I remember her doing stuff like it while growing up. She’ll start drawing on her jeans when she gets bored. Like, you know how she cuffs her jeans?” A pause. “Yeah, the bottom of her jeans. If you look closely you can see tiny ass stars just covering her jeans. Once I saw her draw a moon, and I wanna say Saturn or some shit?”

He...notices that? Zoe glanced down at her jeans and sure enough, it was the jeans that she was doodled on the most. Saturn was at the very bottom of the cuff and she had gone up from there so to her it looked rightside up but to someone else it was upside down.

“God, and you know those teen magazines? Those stupid ass ones that have dumb news about celebrtiies no one cares about? Well, my mom still has subscriptions to them for Zoe since she’s a teen. Zoe now pretends that she doesn’t read them, that she is more educated, but I have seen her taking the quizzes in there.”

He what.

Connor let out a laugh. “Really! I’m not fucking kidding! She’s such a fucking nerd about it too! I’ve watched her bookmark quizzes that she wants to take on their websites, and there are times that I walk by her room when the door is open and I see those shitty magazines with bookmarks in them!”

Zoe’s face was burning red with embarrassment. She tried hiding those quizzes for a reason! She didn’t want anyone thinking that she actually believed what they say.

Which she doesn’t. She just...really wants to see what the quizzes say. Which is normal! She’s a Junior in high school, where she is constantly stressed about standardized tests as well as the impending doom of graduating, choosing a college, and becoming an adult.

“She’s just...she’s perfect, Evan. Compared to me? She’s everyone’s ideal child. She’s just…. I don’t know how to say it without being weird.” There was a moment of silence before Connor let out another heavy sigh. “Okay, fine. It’s just… She’s gorgeous. And not in a weird way. She just… she has this way of drawing people in and welcoming them in, and I think it’s all in her smile.”

“No one talks to me—which I’m not too upset about, don’t get me wrong—but they don’t talk to me because I look angry all the time. Even when Zoe is upset, she tries to give people a bright smile so that they aren’t afraid of her. It’s all in her smile and it’s just… amazing how beautiful it is. How gorgeous and amazing she is.”

Zoe was going to cry. Here she thought that Connor hated her—and maybe he still does, who knows at this point—but here he is, saying all of these lovely things when Zoe has said nothing but mean things about her brother. Hell, she said all these mean things to her brother’s friend, who is probably his only friend.

Should she let what she is hearing change her opinion on him? He still did get angry a lot, break stuff in the house, yell, get high, and was in and out of the hospital. Zoe truly did think that he was a danger to himself, and sometimes her. He has threatened her life before.

...Right? She wasn’t imagining that?

Oh god what if she was imagining that. That pushed the tears over the edge. She just imagines her brother threatening to kill her from time to time while he is here actually trying to learn things about his sister by watching because she would never actually let him hold a normal conversation with her.

She doesn’t know what to think anymore.

“That’s the thing, Evan. I don’t fucking know how to tell her these things. It’s like there is a giant canyon in between the two of us and there is no way around it or over it. Evening attempting to cross the rift would end in my death.”

“Affection isn’t one of my strong suits, so I can’t just… look her in the eyes and say ‘I love you’. I do, I really do, I just...can’t say it.”

That was the last straw. Tears started streaming down Zoe’s face at an alarming rate as she tried to hold back her sobs.

She doesn’t know what to feel. Part of her is angry because Connor has the audacity to talk about this behind her back, not even try to talk to her and let her know what he feels and that he doesn’t hate her. That same part is also angry at herself for making her brother feel that he can’t come talk to her, that they can’t tell each other what they feel like normal people.

But she knows why he can’t, and that’s why she is crying. He is right—the rift between them is too wide to cross. If Connor did try to approach her, she would immediately think something is up. They would get in a fight before Connor could even get anything positive out of his mouth because Zoe wouldn’t believe him. He wouldn’t even be able to say before Zoe got up and walked away because that is what she is used to.

They were not raised like normal siblings, and they are not normal. They have a lot of fights and problems that at this point, fixing it would be useless. Her and Connor just...can’t get along.

But part of her wonders if they would have been able to fix this. If she and Connor had put aside their issues, or if they listened to each other for even five minutes, would things be different?

Zoe slid down the wall, hand held over her mouth as she cried. She didn’t know what to do. She couldn’t let Connor know that she heard this conversation with his friend, but she couldn’t go about her life as if she didn’t hear. Would Connor be suspicious if she started being kinder to him? Would he eventually figure it out? Would he get mad?

Her first thought is of course he would get mad and that doesn’t help the tears stop flowing. Her mind is flooded with nothing but guilt, anger, sadness, and confusion and she doesn’t know what she should do.

She hears movement next to her. It only takes a split second to realize that Connor is walking towards the door.

The door opens and Zoe snaps her head up, making direct eye contact with her.

Connor froze, staring down at his sister—who probably looks like a mess with mascara running down her face—shocked. He quickly masks whatever he is feeling with a defensive glare.

“...I’ll call you back later, Evan.”

#Dear Evan Hansen #Evan Hansen #Connor Murphy #Evan x Connor #Evan Hansen x Connor Murphy #Tree Bros #sunwriting #fanfiction #zoe murphy

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ahiddenpath · 4 years

Text

Epilogue Celebration: Couples

Eyyyy, sorry to hit you up twice in one day, but... I’m behind, so here we are!

I will chat a bit about 2028 couples below the cut!

Keep in mind that the crew are all adults in this discussion.

Taichi

Look, I’m sorry, I really am, but... Ya boi is a mess, romantically. I really can’t wait to get into this in a fic, but Taichi chose a difficult life as an ambassador in the time when Digimon and humans are first coming together. And while I think Taichi is good at surface-level flirting (and also has a strong mind-body connection and physical stamina for... adult activities), I... Really... Don’t think... He Relationships well. Er. Sorry.

So, um... I think his dating life is both varied and... stormy. Lots of casual dating of all kinds of people, but it’s rare for him to introduce anyone to friends and family. Plus, in the wake of... Kizuna events, he starts off adulthood... With a lot on his heart and his mind.

It takes him a long time to find the mother of his child, and I wouldn’t be surprised if they didn’t marry/if they separated/if he somehow ended up with someone else.

The good news is that Taichi learns and grows from everything. I know that someday, he’ll find the right person, and he’ll always do his best for his son.

Yamato and Sora

I’m influenced by @adventure-hearts on this one, but I think Yamato and Sora dated on-and-off again during different stages in their lives. They both have enormous dreams that came before their love life, until one day... I can’t tell you if it was emotional, or if their paths suddenly merged somehow, but someday, they fell into step and stayed there.

I think they’re very happy together, but have an unconventional life. They spend a lot of time apart because of their jobs, and they rely on their wide net of family and friends to help with the kids.

I think they are extremely well suited to each other and have a great marriage, but... They both have a tendency to internalize, pull back, and brood. They’re constantly working on their communication.

Koushiro

I think that Koushiro struggles romantically in his late teens/early twenties. He seems to very much want a girlfriend, but he never can spare the time to look for one... And when his friends set him up, it tends to... Go... Poorly. Poor dude puts his foot in his mouth, freezes, or just... doesn’t know how to relate to people outside of digimon and computers/math/science. He also tends to try too hard, to the point where it’s a Bad Look.

My opinion is that Koushiro needs someone... very specific to handle his, um... Koushiro-ness. I pair him with Anami Eimi, a digimon biology researcher whose heart sometimes supersedes her mind. The idea is that they’re both introverted and research-oriented, and they can gab about their ideas forever. But Eimi is warm, with strong social skills and social intelligence. She can’t touch Koushiro’s level of genius, but she’s smart, hardworking, and injects creativity and thoughtfulness into her work. She also foresees the social and political implications of the latest developments in Digital World and digimon research/technologies, where Koushiro tends to focus on the immediate problem (you can’t blame him; he’s constantly asked to put out sizable fires. There is always more fire. So much fire).

They probably work together off and on for a long time before one of them realizes, oh. The part after that is probably a mess, knowing Koushiro, but they get there!

Koushiro’s polite nature and Eimi’s private one make it so that strangers wouldn’t know they’re married. Still, Koushiro’s close friends, like the Chosen, see the way his eyes follow her, especially when he’s uncertain and wanting social cues. They have a quiet, stable partnership, which Daisuke describes as, “Married and boring,” but they’re very happy.

And Koushiro is very curious, the type who wants to try everything at least once, eyyyyy.

The only thing causing tension is Koushiro working too much and failing to care for himself properly. Luckily, Kae and Masami live in the same apartment mansion, and Kae has eased their marriage when needed by cooking, cleaning, calling Koushiro to remind him of Important Husband Things, and making general suggestions about how an erring husband might smooth things over with his ruffled wife. That last one usually consists of, “Bring home dinner/get your ass home/get your ass to sleep/why yes you DO need to apologize for that.”

It also helps that Eimi loves Tentomon, an accomplished Koushiro-wrangler and general peace keeper.

Mimi

Mimi’s all about fun, novelty, and freedom. She dates around and has casual partners of all varieties. Eventually, she decides to co-parent a child with her long-standing romantic interest. They share custody of their son, who also spends a lot of time with grandparents and friends, including the Chosen. Mimi and her son’s father have an understanding that they see other people while they’re apart, but don’t bring them around their son without discussing it first. It’s all amicable, chill, and provides their son with an enormous support network.

I don’t know if Mimi would ever settle down. I think she loves her life with a lot of variety and spontaneity.

Jyou

Marries his high school sweetheart, Bike Girl. They’re both doctors, so they struggle to get enough time together. But Bike Girl is sweet, loving, and most importantly, calm and grounded. Jyou is a huge romantic softy who spoils his wife and takes care of her. Although they both wish for more time together, they get on amazingly. Jyou always feels this... wonder and gratitude that he’s married to her.

I won’t lie: Jyou is the best husband. The other Chosen men wish they could husband as well as Jyou.

Takeru

I really don’t know what to make of this troll. Sometimes, I think he’s a charmer who dates around a ton, and eventually had an “oops” baby that he amicably co-parents with an ex. Sometimes, I think he settled down early and started a family, because he wanted that stability and love and constant presence that he didn’t have as a kid. Sometimes, I wonder if he eventually divorced and went on to later marry a certain childhood friend...

What can I say, he’s a man of mystery.

Hikari

Ahhh, why is this is sooooo hard?

Part of me really wants to see Hikari as an independent woman, and quietly proud about it. Clearly, she has a child... Maybe she had her son and later divorced? Or maybe she’s happily married? I also admit that I do want to see her with Takeru, at least eventually...

Lots of possibilities here!

Daisuke

Oh, he definitely had an “oops” baby with an ex and is currently trying to find a husband or wife. Or maybe he did? Maybe he did!

Miyako and Ken

They’re married, and they are gross about it, lol!

Seriously though, they get on so well. Ken works a lot (Digimon Police is a tough job), and sometimes Ken needs to find peace and quiet in his home (merry wife + loud kids + MULTIPLE kids = TOO MUCH), so there is sometimes a little tension when Miyako wants more of his time. But they manage it, and they keep their family and home running smoothly and happily.

I just... picture it as this ideal family, at least for someone desiring a loud, joyful, energetic, nuclear family.

Iori

Iori married early to a down-to-earth woman who specializes in elderly care. His wife has a big heart and a kind, patient nature. While she loves and respects Iori’s zeal for helping others, she gently reminds him to take care of himself and his family first. She also provides perspective when he gets set in a stubborn mentality. Happily, she enjoys sharing a large apartment with Iori’s mother and grandfather.

Iori is sometimes too focused on the problems of others to see his loved ones properly, and that’s something he works on with his grandfather’s guidance. When he has his daughter, he instantly reassigns his priorities around her, which softens a lot of his problematic areas. Also, he married a woman who knows how to help him redirect his thoughts. He feels genuine amazement that he’s with her. They have a relationship that is... quietly intense.

AND I AM DONE FOR TODAY, WHEW!

#digimonepiloguecelebration #digimon epilogue celebration #chosen children #digidestined

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sharada-n · 4 years

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As it is now officially the new year I can share the piece I did for the Papchat Secret Santa 2019 exchange! It was a lot of fun to write some Undertale again that wasn’t so angst focused and more of a fluffy piece ^^

Sans never considered himself to be the responsible adult.

He had found he rather played the part of the fun uncle for Frisk at best and even back when they lived in Snowdin Papyrus was the one always cleaning around the house, cooking, making sure their bills were paid. Sans wasn't very good at worrying about those things, or too lazy to bother with them. But that doesn't mean he can't be the responsible adult if the situation calls for it, everybody has to draw the line somewhere after all.

And Sans draws the line at serious bodily harm.

That's what compels him to say it out loud, even if a bigger part of him knows it's probably useless anyway. "I don't think this is a good idea."

Papyrus laughs. Honest to god cackles and Gaster follows suit, a deep chuckle that kind of catches Sans by surprise. It's been a few weeks, but he still needs to get used to having their father here again. "Having good ideas is not important," Papyrus says, with the kind of overblown confidence people usually display right before they break every single bone in their body and it only makes Sans more nervous. "Having fun is!"

"I'm all about having fun," He answers. "But this particular idea feels a little...deadly."

"I would be offended by your assumption that my calculations are that off," Gaster answers, staring down the hill with an assessing gaze. Sans is quite sure you can't determine the angle of a downward slope with the naked eye but what does he know. "If I wasn't so busy being puzzled by your assumptions that we can die."

"Says the guy who just came back to life after being dead for over a decade," Sans retorts. "Thanks to your calculations being way off I might add."

"Not dead," Gaster shoots back, while Papyrus is busy putting the final touches on their sled. "That would have probably been less... upsetting."

The way he says it is so casual it robs Sans from any response. Their father talks about his accident like it was a momentary stroll to the store that just so happened to delay him for years and as he watches Papyrus unfurl an honest to god sail, complete with little skull flag on the top, Sans wonders how, somewhere along the way, he became the most normal member in the Wingdings family.

"Papyrus," He says, both because their father looks too busy determining their ideal trajectory to pay attention and also because he is seriously worried. "You do know a sail is meant to catch the wind coming from behind, right. To go faster?"

"Excellent explanation of the functionality of sails on boats, brother." Papyrus answers, connecting the mast to their sled. The thing is made entirely from wood and painted expertly by Papyrus himself and it reminds Sans of the bridge back in Snowdin. "Good thing this is not a boat."

"Could have fooled me."

"The sail will be tied up while we speed down, but as we reach peak velocity we can deploy it to slow ourselves to an amiable meander. A reverse sail, if you will." Papyrus stands up, admires his horrid creation like a parent sending their firstborn off to university. "Except the wind is coming from a forward direction instead of backward like a typical ship sail. Which makes it pretty confusing namewise."

"I do believe between the reverse sail, the angle of the descent and the combined weight of us and the sled, the landing will stick," Gaster adds, smiling with unrestrained glee and Sans feels the concern grow. He admires both his father and his brother in their own unique passions for physics, much like his own, but just wishes they would use it for something besides death rides and scattering yourself across time and space.

But to each their own.

"Well, it's your funeral." He says, watching as the other two skeletons fit themselves in the carefully carved out seats Papyrus designed for them, leaving the first one empty. "It certainly was ice knowing you."

"You need some new material." Papyrus answers, without missing a beat, even though he's smiling.

"Now, Papyrus," Gaster says seriously, "Don't give him the cold shoulder."

Groans are all he gets as answer, from both his sons, followed with an empathic: "I will throw myself off this thing mid-ride." By Papyrus.

Then Gaster pulls a lever Sans hadn't even noticed and fire shoots out of the back of the sled, proving that the two exhaust pipes attached there were not merely for show. Knowing Papyrus as he does, Sans really could have guessed as much. He watches in what can only be described as stunned silence, part admiration and part fear, as the thing takes off at an alarming speed, making short work of the flat distance of the hill's summit and then disappearing downward, while Sans looks on.

The rockets give up about one-third of the way down, perhaps because those two had some sanity left in them but more likely because they didn't manage to fit any more fuel into the sled's contraption. Another third and Papyrus deploys the sail, the skull flag at the top flapping bravely in the wind and it takes Sans all but three seconds to realize it's not slowing them down nearly enough. Or at all. Unsurprisingly, as soon as the sled hits a bump it crashes spectacularly, flying in a neat little arc then nose-diving again, throwing both occupants out of the vehicle in an almost impressive display of the unrelenting force of gravity.

Sans holds his breath for a moment, two, then he hears the echoing laughter from the distance and sees Gaster throwing him a thumbs up and he starts sauntering slowly down the hill. No need to hurry, after all.

By the time he makes it down there, a trip that took the sled a few minutes at most but takes Sans a whopping ten minutes at the leisure pace he uses for non-emergencies, Papyrus has already managed to put the thing upright again and is noting the damage, Gaster is scribbling in his notebook with renewed vigor.

"So that went well." He says, while Papyrus lifts him up effortlessly and spins him around.

"It went perfectly!" His brother exclaims proudly, "Better than I had hoped!"

"Did it?" Sans asks as he is put down again, pointing at the warped frame of bottom rails. "Because it looks to me like you crashed."

"Just a little."

"Luckily the snow here is quite thick and cushioned our bodies from exploding into a gazillion tiny bone shards." Gaster adds triumphantly, turning to them.

Sans pushes his hands into his pockets. "What was that about sticking the landing?"

"Well, we probably would have if you had been in the sled. We did calculate for three passengers."

"Thinking I would step into that deathtrap in the first place was your biggest mistake then." Sans laughs but everybody ignores him.

"Sadly we burnt through all our fuel reserves in one go," Papyrus frowns at the rockets as if it was their fault for not being more considerate. "We won't be able to launch it again today to see for different results." Gaster pats him on the back in a consoling gesture.

"That's great because I'm not stepping in that thing," Sans repeats.

Gaster throws him a truly infuriating smirk. "Really, Sans, who would have thought you had become so boring while I was gone."

"I'm not boring for not wanting to die. And not wanting you to die either."

"Sans is very boring." Papyrus agrees with a solemn nod. "He does many things very boringly."

Sans sighs, tries to refrain from cracking his knuckles because he knows how much Papyrus hates it. "Well, excuse me for not wanting to lose something I only just got back, ok?" He mutters and it does stop the others dead in their tracks, smiles falling from their faces suddenly. "We only just got to be together again. There's... there's still a lot I want to do now that we have the chance-"

They are stunned for a moment, Sans doesn't give them much time to think it over though, bending down instead to scoop up a handful of snow and aim it at his father's face. "Like this!"

To his credit, Gaster ducks surprisingly fast for his age and the snowball misses him and hits Papyrus right in the eye instead. Sans burst out laughing at the same moment that Papyrus yelps, shaking the snow out of his socket. His laughter is quickly interrupted by a face full of snow himself however, courtesy of Gaster.

The area quickly devolves into an impromptu battlefield, the sled serving as cover for Papyrus who proceeds to expertly decimate his opponents with his superior aim and effectiveness, rolling masses of snowballs in record time and hurling them with marksman accuracy. Sans could have predicted this, he hadn't won a single snowball fight between the two of them since his brother turned nine, but that didn't mean it wasn't fun. And he definitely got a few hits in on Gaster, who despite his initial ducking wasn't very adept at snowball fighting himself.

By the end, they had no choice but to declare Papyrus the ultimate snowman (a title he chooses for himself) and Sans "soaked to the bone", pun intended. He didn't wear a coat, because the cold usually wasn't a problem, but now both his hoodie and short are heavy with melted snow and too wet for comfort. He grimaces at them.

"I guess we should postpone our sled relaunch until next time," Papyrus says, lifting the entire thing with just one hand. "When I have convinced the black market human to sell me more fuel."

Sans decides to ignore how concerning that statement is, instead focusing on Gaster, busy brushing the snow off his black coat. "Are we going to let him do that?"

"I don't see a reason not to."

Sans nods, "Of course you don't."

"Instead," Gaster says, as they start following Papyrus, who is by now lifting the sled high above his head with the skull flag still waving in the wind. "How about you tell me some of those other things you still want to do together now that I'm back."

"Right," Sans says, and the sky is strikingly clear but with dusk setting in he can just see the twinkle of stars in the distance. "That would be nice."

#Undertale #Sans #Papyrus #w.d. gaster #my writing #hmmmmmmmm first fic of the new year #tho technically written in 2019

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