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gabrielkahane · 3 years

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Heirloom

Short form:

Heirloom (concerto for piano & chamber orchestra) premieres with Jeffrey Kahane & the Kansas City Symphony under the baton of Michael Stern, September 24-26. Tickets are here.

I’ll play a solo show at Rockwood Music Hall on Tuesday, September 28th. My dear friend and colleague, Johnny Gandelsman, will open with a solo violin set. Johnny’s on at 7pm, I’ll go on around 8pm. Tickets are $20 and are here. This will be my only NYC appearance this year!

Applications for Luna Lab with Oregon Symphony are now open! If you are a female-identifying, non-binary, or gender-nonconforming composer between the ages of 12 and 18, and live in Portland or Southeast Washington, please apply for your chance to study for a year with the incredible Nathalie Joachim!

Long form:

Several years ago, my friend Eric Jacobsen started pestering me about writing a piano concerto for my father, Jeffrey Kahane. It was an intriguing (and natural!) idea, but I kept putting it off in large part because I’ve never felt comfortable with large-scale instrumental composition. I think of myself first and foremost as a songwriter, and while I love to write for instruments in the context of vocal music, I feel almost entirely unmoored when voice & text are taken away. But Eric was persistent, and, well, here we are. Next month, the Kansas City Symphony will open its season with Heirloom, after which the piece will be heard in the coming years in performances presented by the co-commissioners who’ve rounded out the consortium: the Oregon Symphony, the Aspen Music Festival, the Los Angeles Chamber Orchestra, the St. Paul Chamber Orchestra, and Eric’s Brooklyn-based group, The Knights.

Heirloom is an aural family scrapbook, exploring, in its three movements, a series of inheritances. I’m incredibly excited to witness its birth September 24-26 in Kansas City. You can find the program note I’ve written to accompany its premiere at the end of this email.

The following Tuesday, September 28th, I will play my first concert in New York City since our lives were individually and collectively turned upside down by the pandemic. Most of the evening will be devoted to a new slate of songs drawn from thirty-one composed in October of 2020, the final month of a year-long, complete internet hiatus. Johnny Gandelsman, violinist of Brooklyn Rider, opens with what promises to be a ravishing solo set. Tickets are here.

Lastly, in 2019, I took on the position of Creative Chair with the Oregon Symphony. I’m very pleased to announce that this season, we’ve begun a partnership with Luna Lab, the brainchild of composers Missy Mazzoli and Ellen Reid. Luna Composition Lab offers mentorship and professional training to female-identifying, non-binary, and gender-nonconforming composers between the ages of 12 and 18. We at the Oregon Symphony are incredibly grateful to partner with Luna Lab to offer one student a year-long period of mentorship with Grammy-nominated flutist, composer, and songwriter, Nathalie Joachim, who happens to be one of my all-time favorite humans, and who will be giving the world premiere of Suite from Fanm D’ayiti with the Oregon Symphony in the spring of 2022. What makes this even more amazing is that another all-time favorite human, the violinist Pekka Kuusisto, will be playing Nico Muhly’s concerto Shrink, on the same program. Oh, but we were talking about Luna Lab. If you or someone you know wants to apply, you can find more info & the application form here; you just have to submit one score & a recording (MIDI is acceptable). I will be reviewing submissions along with Nathalie. Applications are due on September 7th.

Obligatory capitalism appeal: I know it’s been a while since I’ve put out new music. It’s coming. I promise. In the meantime, may I remind you about this gorgeous limited edition vinyl record?

That’s it for now, folks. Stay safe. Try to lead with love, even when it’s hard.

All my best,

Gabriel

Heirloom program note:

Tucked away in the northernmost reaches of California sits the Bar 717 Ranch, which, each summer, is transformed into a sleep-away camp on 450 acres of wilderness, where, in 1967, two ten-year-old kids named Martha and Jeffrey met. Within a couple of years, they were playing gigs back in L.A. in folk rock bands with names like “Wilderness” and “The American Revelation.” They fell in love, broke up, fell in love again. By the time I was a child, my mom and dad had traded the guitars, flutes, and beaded jackets for careers in clinical psychology and classical music respectively. But they remained devoted listeners of folk music. Growing up, it was routine for dad to put on a Joni Mitchell record when he took a break from practicing a concerto by Mozart or Brahms. That collision of musical worlds might help to explain the creative path I’ve followed, in which songs and storytelling share the road with the Austro-German musical tradition.

That tradition comes to me through the music I heard as a child, but also through ancestry. My paternal grandmother, Hannelore, escaped Germany at the tail end of 1938, arriving in Los Angeles in early 1939 after lengthy stops in Havana and New Orleans. For her, there was an unspeakable tension between, on the one hand, her love of German music and literature, and, on the other, the horror of the Holocaust. In this piece, I ask, how does that complex set of emotions get transmitted across generations? What do we inherit, more broadly, from our forebears? And as a musician caught between two traditions, how do I bring my craft as a songwriter into the more formal setting of the concert hall?

The first movement, “Guitars in the Attic,” wrestles specifically with that last question, the challenge of bringing vernacular song into formal concert music. The two main themes begin on opposite shores: the first theme, poppy, effervescent, and direct, undergoes a series of transformations that render it increasingly unrecognizable as the movement progresses. Meanwhile, a lugubrious second tune, first introduced in disguise by the French horn and accompanied by a wayward English horn, reveals itself only in the coda to be a paraphrase of a song of mine called “Where are the Arms.” That song, in turn, with its hymn-like chord progression, owes a debt to German sacred music. A feedback loop emerges: German art music informs pop song, which then gets fed back into the piano concerto.

“My Grandmother Knew Alban Berg” picks up the thread of intergenerational memory. Grandma didn’t actually know Alban Berg, but she did babysit the children of Arnold Schoenberg, another German-Jewish émigré, who, in addition to having codified the twelve-tone system of composition, was Berg’s teacher. Why make something up when the truth is equally tantalizing? I suppose it has something to do with wanting to evoke the slipperiness of memory while getting at the ways in which cultural inheritance can occur indirectly. When, shortly after college, I began to study Berg’s Piano Sonata, his music— its marriage of lyricism and austerity; its supple, pungent harmonies; the elegiac quality that suffuses nearly every bar—felt eerily familiar to me, even though I was encountering it for the first time. Had a key to this musical language been buried deep in the recesses of my mind through some kind of ancestral magic, only to be unearthed when I sat at the piano and played those prophetic chords, which, to my mind, pointed toward the tragedy that would befall Europe half a dozen years after Berg’s death?

In this central movement, the main theme is introduced by a wounded-sounding trumpet, accompanied by a bed of chromatic harmony that wouldn’t be out of place in Berg’s musical universe. By movement’s end, time has run counterclockwise, and the same tune is heard in a nocturnal, Brahmsian mode, discomfited by interjections from the woodwinds, which inhabit a different, and perhaps less guileless, temporal plane.

To close, we have a kind of fiddle-tune rondo, an unabashed celebration of childhood innocence. In March of 2020, my family and I were marooned in Portland, Oregon, as the world was brought to its knees by the coronavirus pandemic. Separated from our belongings—and thus all of our daughter’s toys, which were back in our apartment in Brooklyn—my ever resourceful partner, Emma, fashioned a “vehicle” out of an empty diaper box, on which she majusculed the words vera’s chicken-powered transit machine. (Vera had by that point developed a strong affinity for chicken and preferred to eat it in some form thrice daily.) We would push her around the floor in her transit machine, resulting in peals of laughter and squeals of delight. In this brief finale, laughter and joy are the prevailing modes, but not without a bit of mystery. I have some idea of what I have inherited from my ancestors. What I will hand down to my daughter remains, for the time being, a wondrous unknown.

Heirloom is dedicated with love, admiration, gratitude, and awe, to my father, Jeffrey Kahane.

#jeffrey kahane #kansas city symphony #piano concerto #pekka kuusisto #nathalie joachim #oregon symphony #st. paul chamber orchestra #los angeles chamber orchestra #aspen music festival #missy mazzoli #ellen reid #rockwood music hall #johnny gandelsman #folk music #classical music #the knights #eric jacobsen

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punkpoemprose · 3 years

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Single Bells- A Kristanna Oneshot

Rating: G (General Audiences) Universe: Modern AU, Librarian Anna, Single Dad/ Firefighter Kristoff Length: 8239 Words

A/N: Merry (day late) Christmas Val! @val-2201 I’m sorry I got a little bit behind. As per the usual the word count got away from me a bit so I ended up needing a little time to finish, haha. You said you enjoy single parent AUs so I hope you enjoy this little piece about single Dad Kristoff needing to solicit assistance from a very nice red headed librarian! I hope you had a wonderful holiday and that your New Year will be full of joy!

Anna wasn’t supposed to still be at work, but if there was one thing she couldn’t say no to, it was a kid with a research project. Especially a first grader with beautiful blonde ringlets dragging her frazzled looking father to the information and research desk that Anna had been staffing for the day. Normally she worked only as the children’s librarian, but since two different librarians were out on maternity leave, she’d been willing to shift gears and wear many hats.

They’d come to her desk within the last five minutes of her shift, but Anna hadn’t mentioned it. It was two weeks from the last day of school for the winter holiday, and if her suspicions were correct, the father and daughter were working on a particular project for which she’d assisted four other families in the last few days.

Teachers loved to assign festive work before the holidays, but sometimes she wondered if they really thought through the fact that heavily parent involved projects were sometimes more stress than they were fun. She'd helped quite a few families try to determine what their ancestral traditions had been. Some, she was happy to report, did have legitimate plans to include them in their celebrations after the project conclusion. That at least made her feel like some good was coming out of the stress.

“I have a presentation to do!” the little girl announced with a smile that revealed a missing front tooth.

She was dressed in the brightest green coat she'd ever seen and her little hat, that she'd already pulled away to reveal static filled curls, was made to look like a reindeer. She couldn't help but feel that this was going to be another kid who insisted upon celebrating a newfound tradition. If she was, in fact, working on that project.

Anna grinned in return, noting the child’s enthusiasm for the project she was in the library to work on. She’d said it perhaps a bit too loudly for some of the other librarians’ tastes, but for Anna there was nothing like the boisterousness of young children. She supposed there was a reason that her office and the children’s area in general had been relegated to the basement. Being upstairs still felt strange.

“That’s due tomorrow,” the father said, sounding a bit miserable but looking mostly defeated.

He had a bit of scruff to his chin, and the bags under his eyes told Anna that he probably hadn’t slept well in weeks. It was a common sight with parents around the holidays, exhaustion and uncharacteristic scruffiness. Not that she really knew whether his scruffiness was uncharacteristic, having never seen him before in his life.

“Uh oh!” Anna said, directing her attention at the child rather than the father, knowing that she was much better at working with kids than adults, “We’ve got to work fast then, huh? What’s the presentation about?”

The little girl nodded, “It’s about Christmas traditions! I told Daddy on Monday that we needed to do it, but he forgot.”

When Anna looked toward the father out of the corner of her eye, she saw him flush. It was Thursday, so she imagined that they’d had some time to complete it. She wouldn’t judge him for the timing of course, she barely could keep herself on a schedule somedays, let alone a six-year-old. She also made a conscious effort to not judge any of her patrons, even the ones who came in asking about unique topics.

She’d once had a woman come in asking for an entire book on just Guinea pig costumes, and she wasn’t sure whether she should be more concerned for her guinea pig or that the library system had not one, but six books on guinea pig costuming. Last minute project fell somewhere toward the bottom of the judgement list.

“I didn’t forget,” the dad said, sounding very tired, but not particularly upset, “I’ve just been busy, and I didn’t realize it was Thursday.”

Anna smiled and then looked at the dad, “It happens to all of us. Can you two narrow down the kind of Christmas traditions you’re looking for?”

The dad looked embarrassed again.

“She needs to pick a specific country to look up traditions from and she wants to pick the one my family’s from.”

“Oh, that’s easy enough,” Anna said with a nod, “Where is your family from, and we’ll go from there!”

“That’s kind of the problem,” the man said with a sigh, “I don’t know.”

***

They were in the children’s area, on one of the library’s iPads at one of the kid sized tables. The little girl, Ivy, was in her glory. She’d spent more time commenting on the posters on the walls and snowflakes on the ceiling than she had focusing on the task at hand, but Anna didn’t really mind. It was easy enough for her to hold a conversation with both the girl and her father as she searched for clues about the man’s heritage. Really all they had to go on was his last name.

Bjorgman. Kristoff Bjorgman.

“I think that my parents were maybe immigrants. I was adopted when I was just a little older than Ivy, but I’d been in the system since I was maybe two or three? I don’t remember them, and I was never given any records. My birth certificate was created when I entered the system, so it doesn’t have either of their names on it. Just mine, and that was just because it had been pinned to my shirt when someone dropped me off.”

Anna couldn’t help but feel as though that was terribly sad, but the man, Kristoff, and his daughter didn’t seem phased by it. It was just another detail of life for them she supposed, but she couldn’t imagine not remembering her parents. All she had of them now was memories, and a few knick-knacks that had managed to be saved after the house fire.

She tried not to think about that though, and it was easy enough to direct her attention back to the man sitting across from her.

He was much too large for the table, and he made the child’s chair he sat in look comically small. He was handsome, and by Anna’s estimation, not much older than she was. He was maybe 26, tops, and she couldn’t imagine having a kid of her own.

“Your adoptive parents don’t know anything?”

He shook his head, “No more than I do. The information just doesn’t exist I guess.”

“She didn’t want to do her Mom’s family’s traditions?” she asked, fishing only a little bit.

She thought that maybe given the level of flustered he seemed to be exuding might be indicative of him being a single dad. She hoped not on the one hand because that was such a difficult position to be in, but also he was the first cute dad she’d run into that wasn’t significantly older than her. So she wanted to make sure if she was ogling him in the chair it was something that she could do with a clear conscience.

“No, and even if she did, we don’t really know anything about hers either. She’s passed on. It’s just us.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry…”

He shook his head, “It’s alright.”

He looked over at his daughter then, smiling at her softly as she pushed her little chair back and walked over to the bookshelf to grab something out of the easy reader bin. She’d looked bored for a little while and was now clearly determining that this was grown up work that she didn’t want anything to do with and therefore was free to explore.

Anna couldn’t help but grin when she saw her pluck out a Mercy Watson book. She loved those. She must be reading a little beyond her age group to be reading it for fun.

Turning her attention back to the ipad, and away from the little girl who was eagerly plopping herself into a beanbag, she looked at the search results she pulled up with his last name. The information on the screen was pretty much what they already knew. His first and last name were Nordic of some kind.

“So we’re looking at Sweden, Norway, Finland, Denmark, or Iceland. We can make an educated guess based on where you lived when you were a kid based on the census data from that area as most immigrant families move to areas with other people from the same country, or where there’s a strong presence of the culture they’re familiar with.”

“Well… I was born here, I think. Or at least this is where I got put into the system, which is why I moved back here a few years back.”

Anna lit up, she didn’t have to do any more searching. Any vaguely Nordic last name in their town generally meant one thing.

“I can say then, with 90% certainty, you’re Norwegian. Not that it helps right now, but have you ever thought about taking a DNA test? Kids tend to just have more heritage questions as they get older and if you both take one it can help with any genealogy research."

"That's a lot of certainty for just a last name and a town," he said, looking surprised as he met her eye.

"Oh, well I mean Arendale was named for the Arendelle family and was founded by Norwegian immigrants so most of the population is descended from Norwegian families. Most immigrant families from Norway still settle here when they come over from the states. I mean there’s a little Norway downtown."

"Oh," he said, "You just knew that? I guess it's probably something that comes up often…"

"Yes, but well also I'm an Arendelle. It's been drilled into me since I was born. We turned the family manor into a museum a few years ago. I used to give tours when I was in my master's program."

"That's…"

"Extremely boring,” she interrupted, not wanting him to trouble himself to find something nice to say, “Except on field trip days. Which is how I decided working with kids was for me. Adults, eh. No offense of course."

"None taken,” he replied, grinning, “Why do you work at the research desk then?"

"I'm actually a children's librarian," she said happily, glancing over at his daughter who had looked up over her book at them with interest as they talked about information valuable to her project again. Anna motioned with her hands like she was opening a book and then gave her a thumbs up which the girl returned with a grin.

"I'm just helping out because a few of the librarians are out on maternity. If you want to see what I usually do you should come for my ornament making sessions. I'm doing them every day after school and then in the mornings on the weekends until the day before Christmas Eve."

He looked almost impressed.

"Daddy! We have to!"

"Now she's tuning in," he said with a sort of shy smile that was quickly accompanied by a shrug. "Come here sweetheart, you have to pick a tradition. We're pretty sure I'm Norwegian."

"And I know so many traditions!" Anna told the girl brightly, "we don't even have to search!"

“Hooray!” she said with a grin, carefully sliding the book’s ribbon bookmark into the page she had marked with her thumb before running over to where her father was seated.

She crawled up on his lap, book still in hand.

“Can we pick one that talks about food?”

He laughed and as he tucked the little curly head under his chin he mouthed, ‘bottomless pit’.

Anna couldn’t help but feel that before she left for the evening, she’d be processing a minor and adult card sign up and checking out a Mercy Watson book and perhaps even a Norwegian cookbook.

“No! Wait! One about ornaments! I love ornaments!”

Maybe, she thought, a craft book too.

The dad rolled his eyes playfully from up above where his daughter could see and Anna did her best to stifle a giggle. These were the moments where she loved her job most.

***

They'd come for her craft time the next day, and Ivy had told her how well she'd done at her presentation and how she'd been proud to already know a bunch of the other Norwegian traditions other kids had shared.

Now though she was busying herself with playing with the other kids, the usuals that Anna had introduced to her by name.

Her blonde head was bobbing along in a conversation as the kids built a large block tower together, and she could see her dark little eyes gleaming with mischief as they discussed knocking it down when they were all done. Anna had never in her life been more grateful that they had foam instead of wooden blocks.

“She looks just like you."

Her hair was just a little lighter than his, and her eyes a little darker, but there was something in her features, her expressions that was an identical copy to her fathers. Even only having met them the day before, she could tell that she definitely took after him.

“I hear that a lot, and it’s funny… Not like really funny, I mean, it’s just interesting because Ivy’s not mine,” he said quietly as the little girl played with the other children.

Most of the other parents had been content to talk amongst themselves. They were regulars and they were comfortable together, being mostly moms. Anna noticed that they were occasionally glancing back and forth between the two of them surreptitiously. Or at least as close to sneaky as a group of nosy 30-something women could be.

“I usually don’t tell people that. I don’t know why I told you that.”

“It’s par for the course for librarians. We’re like bartenders, just with books,” She replied a bit too quickly.

He looked down at his feet for a moment then met Anna’s eye again, smiling a bit nervously, like he’d worked something out in his head, and then took a deep breath.

“I mean legally speaking she is mine, just so you don’t think I stole a kid. After her mother died, I adopted her. Genetically she’s got another Dad out there somewhere, but her mom, Evelyn, she never mentioned him. I don’t think he was ever involved.”

“Oh,” Anna said, feeling her face grow hot at the misconception, “I’m sorry. So Evelyn was your…?”

She knew she was probably just digging herself a deeper hole, but she felt a warmth flutter to life in her heart. He’d mentioned before that Ivy’s mom had passed on, but she’d assumed that he was her biological father and that was why she called him Dad. That he’d been adopted, and then he’d adopted a child after meant a lot. That made her realize that her interest in him, regardless of how new and how impossible, was rooted in more than looks.

“Neighbor,” he said quickly, like he was afraid of her saying anything else.

She stared at him, surprised by the answer, watching him blush under her gaze.

“Sorry, I’m just used to people thinking we were… you know, together. She was just… she was so young. I wouldn’t have been with her like that, she was just a neighbor and a friend. I think she had a rough life. She didn’t talk about it much, but when she moved in next door to me she was working a bunch of odd jobs with crazy hours and Ivy was two. Evie was eighteen. I think her parents might have kicked them out or something, so I would watch Ivy on my days off because Evie didn’t have anyone and it was just me and my dog anyway, so I had plenty of free time."

He took a breath. Before Anna could find the words to say, he kind of sighed and shrugged, deciding to say more. Anna just focused on his eyes while he talked. There was a deep love there and she could tell it was for Ivy.

"I started taking extra days off here and there with my vacation time because Evelyn started to not feel well and she would go to the clinic a lot. Sometimes she would wait for hours for someone to tell her she was stressed or whatever. When they found out it was cancer it was too late. It was less than a year before she was gone. When no family came forward for Ivy, I did. She was three then. I’m the only dad she knows. The only parent she knows really. I didn’t have many pictures of her mom, because she was my neighbor and I didn’t think to take some when we found out she was sick, but we talk about her.”

Anna thought she might cry.

She was no stranger to loss, but she’d never heard of anyone doing anything like that before. She tried to step up for strangers and community members a little but each day. She donated to charity and worked with the economically disadvantaged, but she’d never changed her life forever just to help someone else. She’d never been able to see herself stepping up that far.

“You adopted your neighbor’s kid.”

She let her eyes tear up, her throat felt tight.

She could certainly see that beneath the sort of gruff exterior he first offered, there was a kindness that ran through him. She could see it now, as she had before when he’d been focusing on helping his daughter. He had a lot of love in him, and it was obvious when he glanced back over to where Ivy was playing and smiled.

“Well I fostered her first, but yeah. I mean my parents did it for me, and I guess I didn’t want to roll the dice and hope that someone else would be as kind when I had the means… at least financially. I’m three years in and still working out the rest. I just feel lucky everyday they let me adopt her with my work schedule and everything.��

“I think,” she said quietly, trying not to cry, “I think most parents are. Even the ones who’ve had their kids from the start.”

“Thank you for saying that. I don’t know many other parents, so it’s always a guessing game about whether I’m doing the right thing.”

He looked back from Ivy and caught a glimpse of Anna’s expression. She saw him frown and look genuinely concerned. She wanted to tell him not to worry, but he found the words quicker than she did.

“I didn’t mean to upset you, sorry. I’m not great with people.”

He held a hand out to her, paused for a moment like he was wondering what he should do, and then rubbed the back of his neck with it.

Anna shook her head and wiped her eyes on her sleeve, giving the moms staring at her openly her best and most polite look of “it’s fine, but also mind your own business”. They seemed to get the picture well enough, returning to their own conversations with only a mildly mischievous and conspiratorial gaze at each other. Anna was sure she’d have plenty of texts later from the library mom chat asking what she and the “hot dad” had been talking about.

“No, you’re fine. I’m kind of an emotional person. I’m just happy for you two. She loves you so much, I can tell. She deserves to have someone who loves her just as much.”

He smiled softly and then nodded, putting his hand back down at his side and appearing to relax slightly now that the topic was back to just Ivy. He still looked as tired as he had the day before, especially now after she’d accidentally worried him.

“She’s a special kid. She’s not like me very much, even though I’m raising her. She’s so optimistic and brave and sort of stubborn… which I suppose she could have gotten from me, but really she’s great and I’ve been so lucky to have her."

Anna nodded in return, wiping the tears away on her sleeve.

“Yeah, I can see that. And I don’t mean to pry but… you look a little tired. I hope she didn’t make you pull an all-nighter on that project.”

He sort of chuckled at her lame joke, and she appreciated the attempt at acceptance of her levity. She was never particularly good at intentional humor. Most people just laughed when she accidentally tripped over something or had chocolate on her face and didn’t notice.

“No, no all-nighter. I’m just exhausted.”

“I hear parenting does that to a person.”

He nodded and then sighed, giving her a sort of nervous look before looking beyond her to Ivy.

"I don't mean to tell you my life story. Even though, I kind of already did, but… I just feel bad when I can’t give her the world, you know? Like, I finally wanted to do a big at home Christmas for her this year. We were going to go home to see my family like usual, but my Dad just had some pretty serious back surgery and even though he loves the kids my sisters and I agreed not to flood the house while he’s recovering.”

She nodded along some more, knowing that he probably didn’t have anyone to vent this sort of thing to. She wasn’t a parent herself, but working with so many young children meant that she talked with plenty of parents, and she at least comprehended a bit of what it was like. She couldn’t pretend to understand fully, but she didn’t mind listening to parents when they needed to breathe. She particularly didn’t mind listening to Kristoff.

He looked back at her with a sort of exasperation that she was familiar with. He looked like he’d just run a marathon in his head. He looked like her after inventory day.

“You know I never realized how much my mom did for us for the holidays, you know? It’s one more week of school, and then I have to find a babysitter for the days I’m not off during her winter vacation. I barely managed to negotiate for Christmas off at the firehouse as it is, let alone to find all that time. The guys are great and sometimes I can bring her to work if I don’t have anyone to watch her because someone usually stays behind or one of the guys will have their wife or older kid there for a visit, but around the holidays… there’s a lot of fires you know. Not really a place to bring a kid. I have shopping to do, wrapping, we have to get a real tree because she really wants one, and then there’s cookies to bake, and God I’m just glad she hasn’t asked about those elf things because I don’t think I could pull that off too.”

“That seems like a lot.”

“It is, and that’s not even the half of it. We have to get a wreath to bring to her mother’s grave, and it’s so hard to find in the snow because it’s just a small grave marker so it’s really a whole day affair. I don’t mind, but I don’t want to run out of time to do everything else. She wants to go caroling and see santa and make ornaments… which thanks for this by the way, it was nice. She’s very proud of her star. It’s just with work and everything it feels like there’s not enough time.”

Anna nodded. It was a common concern with the other parents, but most of them had more hands to help, less work, and more practice at it.

“I can help.”

She didn’t think before she spoke. She was absolutely shocked by her own words even as she said them. They were practically strangers, and he was venting about his difficulties as a single dad while she was trying not to notice how perfectly chocolate brown his eyes were, or how easy it would be to imagine him in a firefighter’s calendar. Or rather, trying not to let herself wonder whether AFD had plans to put out a firefighter’s calendar this year.

“I couldn’t ask you to do that.”

“You weren’t,” she said, watching as some of the moms began to get their kids ready to leave, knowing her window of opportunity to get her thoughts out was closing by the moment, “I offered. I’m great at wrapping and I love to shop. If you’re looking for help I’m happy to give it.”

He looked at her for a long moment, until Ivy ran over and pulled on his pant leg.

“Daddy,” she said, “Can I have some candy? Danny’s mom brought candy canes and she said I had to ask you first.”

He looked to Anna for a moment, and she understood the concern in his eyes.

“Oh, you mean Mrs. James! She’s so nice. She brings candy for us all the time. She’s been bringing Danny here for storytime and crafts since he was just a little baby.”

She could understand his concern. She was always a little worried herself when the parents brought things to share, especially if the parents were fairly new. It was one of those fears that was mostly irrational, but one really never knew.

He looked back to his daughter and gave her a stunning smile that made Anna melt on the spot.

“Yeah sweetheart that would be fine. Please and thank you, right?”

“Always!” she said, running off in the direction of Danny’s mom who was waiting with a cheeky smile, staring again at Anna and offering her a wink.

“Were you serious?” Kristoff asked, breaking her concentration as she tried to give Mrs. James a ‘please don’t interfere’ look in return.

Not that it would do her any good.

“About Mrs. James? Of course. I’d never encourage anyone’s kid to take candy from a stranger I couldn’t personally vouch for.”

“No, I…” he was flushed again and Anna realized that she’d missed a point. She was making him ask her, just like she’d said he didn’t have to.

“I meant about the help.”

“Oh, yes! Of course I meant it! I love the holidays and I’ve been working a little more than usual but I still have plenty of time.”

“Your boyfriend wouldn’t mind? I’d hate to take time away that you could be spending together around the holidays.”

“I… I don’t have a boyfriend.”

She was almost certain that there was a look of interest in his eye when she said it, but as quick as it was there, it was gone.

Maybe, she thought, she wasn’t the only one interested.

“Then I’d love the help,” he said with a nod, “For Ivy’s sake.”

***

Anna wasn’t sure she’d ever enjoyed anything so much as she did being Kristoff’s personal Christmas elf. She’d given him her mother’s family recipe for Norwegian butter cookies, an answer to Ivy's now rampant desire to learn about those traditions, and she’d picked up stocking stuffers and amazon packages and bits of this and that. She’d wrapped gifts and brought them to the fire station for safe keeping. Somehow, she’d managed to mostly do so when Kristoff was out on a call, or when he wasn’t working at all.

It was unfortunate as she wanted to see him, so she was pleasantly surprised when five days before Christmas she’d received a text message from Kristoff inviting her to help him and Ivy go tree shopping. She’d seen them at two separate decoration making events before it, so she supposed that it was only right for her to help them select the canvas on which to display Ivy’s beautiful work.

Ivy had, of course, been on a mission during the trip.

“Color, smell, and needle retention,” she’d said in her little, but very certain voice.

Anna had later learned that she didn’t actually know the meaning of the word retention, and that she’d learned her tree picking skills from a YouTube video, but she had been nevertheless impressed.

She’d helped Ivy pick, and then she’d helped, with mixed results, to strap the six-foot tree to Kristoff’s car. He’d mostly brought it inside his apartment himself, but when Anna had turned to leave, Ivy had caught her hand, and Kristoff had shyly offered her some hot chocolate. They'd sung Christmas carols, lead by Ivy and decorated the tree together with some ornaments that his friends from the firehouse had given them and the ones that Ivy had made herself. Anna wished she had her old childhood ornaments. Ivy, she knew, would have loved one.

The rest of the week passed much the same until, two days before Christmas, Anna found herself finishing her last ornament and story session with the kids before the holiday. It was a bittersweet thing, being swept up in the excitement of children looking forward to Christmas but knowing that she wouldn’t see them again for a while after.

Ivy, who had been in attendance, was busy playing with her new friends, and Kristoff, who hadn’t taken his eyes off Anna for the whole session, was speaking with her again.

Anna couldn’t help but note how quickly they were getting to know each other. She couldn’t help but blame the holiday in part. Not only was she doing more story and craft sessions in the evenings than she normally would, but she’d also been helping him make the holidays for Ivy. She supposed it was inevitable that they would talk, and in their conversations get to know each other a bit better.

The topic of conversation now, was a wrapping accident on one of Ivy’s “little” presents, a slime kit. It was from Santa, but Anna had accidentally wrapped it in the paper she’d set aside to wrap gifts from Kristoff in. The tag though, still said “from Santa”.

“So you’re sure you don’t mind,” she said quietly, low enough that they kids couldn’t hear her, “I know some kinds are just really perceptive, so I don’t want her to see that dad and santa have the same paper and realize what happened.”

“If she notices I’m just going to tell her that Santa accidentally ripped the wrapping paper coming down the chimney and had to rewrap it in some of my paper to keep it a secret until Christmas morning.”

She nodded. It was a brilliant plan.

“That’s so smart,” she was thoroughly awed, “I come up with a lot of little fibs around the holidays to keep the magic for the kiddos, but that one’s just genius.”

He laughed and shook his head, “Maybe I’m better at this than I thought.”

“You really should give yourself more credit.”

His smile softened then, “As should you. I can’t believe that you just offered to help a stranger put Christmas on for their kid and then actually followed through with it.”

“Need I remind you that you adopted a neighbor’s child without hesitation? What I did was nothing in comparison.”

He was close to her and stepping closer. She could practically feel the eyes of the moms as they lingered in the room, just to see what was going to happen. Her eyes drifted down to his lips and she felt herself flushing at the thought of kissing him, even though she told herself that they couldn’t, that it wasn’t going to happen. His previous stubble, the ball he’d had to drop to keep his daughter on schedule was now even more pronounced, but in an intentional sort of way. She could imagine how it would scratch against her.

“I wouldn’t call that nothing,” he said quiet, so low that she could barely hear it. “To us, it’s everything. I don’t think I can ever thank you enough.”

She focused for a moment on breathing as she’d realized that she’d been holding her breath ever since he leaned in. It was easy, she thought, to let him take her breath away.

And then the giggling and “goodbyes” of children broke Anna’s focus, and she turned her head to see moms giving her subtle thumbs up, and kids donning coats.

Ivy was skipping towards them, candy cane in one hand and her popsicle stick star in the other. Glitter was flaking off the craft as she bounced towards them, and Anna knew she’d be spending at least the next hour vacuuming. She almost felt bad for the parents who were about to have their houses covered in poorly glued sequins, glitter and foamies.

Almost.

“Ms. Anna!” the little girl said with great excitement, “What are you going to do for Christmas?”

The question caught Anna off guard. The kids had asked her before, but it had never felt like a big deal to tell them the truth. Kids understood more than adults most of the time, and they felt things stronger and they were more open with it, so Anna was more open with them. With Ivy and Kristoff though, just having gotten to know them, and having all sorts of confusing feelings in her chest for him, she wasn’t sure she could take the pitying eyes.

“Well hon,” she said quietly, waving to the other parents and kids as they drifted out as both a politeness and a distraction, “I’m not doing anything. My sister is my only family and she lives far far away.”

“Oh,” the little girl said, looking sad.

Anna couldn’t look at Kristoff, but she could tell he was giving his daughter the soft but chiding look he’d given her a few times in the two weeks she’d known them. The look that said he wasn’t mad at her, but that she’d said too much or her manners were lacking. She thought it was a nice way to remind kids of their behavior and had filed it away for her own use.

“Like Grandma and Grandpa.”

“Yeah,” Anna said in response, “But it’s okay, I’m used to being by myself. I’ll read a book and make myself dinner.”

She knew she didn’t sound particularly believable. She wasn’t even buying it herself. Truth be told her whole apartment was decorated for Christmas, complete with a tree, and she always made herself sad around the holidays thinking about how she’d had so much fun as a kid, but now spent them alone. She always thought that there was an unfairness in showing that to a child though, in showing them that the holiday was anything but magical for some people, so she tried to keep a stiff upper lip.

“That’s okay Ms. Anna,” the little girl said, grinning broadly at her with little tears sparkling in her dark eyes, and stepping close to grab her hand, “You can have Christmas at our house!”

She felt like crying again.

“Oh Ivy that’s so sweet,” she said, her throat feeling tight, “But it’s your family Christmas. You don’t want a stranger there.”

“You’re not a stranger,” Kristoff said softly, reaching for Ivy’s other hand and giving it a soft squeeze that made the little girl’s smile brighten.

She seemed glad for her dad’s backup.

Anna forced herself to meet his eye, and she found in it a sort of shyness. He looked at her like he was uncertain, but also like he was excited by the prospect. She noted the twinkle in his eyes despite his furrowed brow, the gentle upturn of his lips as he looked at her for an answer.

“I don’t want to intrude…”

“You wouldn’t be. Ivy invited you as her guest. I’d… I’d also like you to come as my guest if you don’t mind. I know you’ve only known us for two weeks, but I think we’d both really like it if you came. Right sweetheart?”

Ivy squeezed Anna’s hand tightly and then nodded, bouncing a bit on her heels as she did so like her whole body was agreeing with her dad.

“Well then,” Anna said quietly, “How can I refuse?”

***

Her arms were full of presents and chocolates when she came to his door, so she had to tap the wood twice with the toe of her boot to knock. She’d been battling herself the entire drive over, trying to decide whether this was the right thing to do and whether she should really be feeling as giddy about the whole thing as she was.

She was basically crashing someone else’s holiday, and she knew that she should feel bad about taking them up on an offer made out of kindness and sympathy, but she didn’t. She didn’t feel bad because she really liked Ivy and wanted to help make Christmas a little more special for her this year. She didn’t feel bad because she really liked Kristoff and even the idea of pretending for a few hours that he felt the same made her heart flutter.

She’d never fallen for a patron before. Nor had she ever been so sure that she loved someone so quickly. She’d had bad luck in the past with similar feelings, but this time she had faith in the rightness of the feelings and the positivity of the situation. Kristoff Bjorgman was a good man, and whether anything more came from it, she was happy to be his friend and to share his Christmas.

She thought maybe if she could have written a letter to Santa though, she would have maybe wished for more. If it wasn’t too much to ask.

She hadn’t so much as put her foot down after tapping the door than Ivy opened the door and ushered her in. Kristoff was watching from just a few feet back, letting her know with a smile that Ivy had been so excited to open the door that she’d been waiting for the knock. She wondered if she’d been waiting for her since she called to let them know she was arriving.

“I waited to open my presents from Santa until you got here Ms. Anna,” the little girl said with zeal, “I wanted you to see!”

Kristoff stepped forward then, helping Anna with her parcels while telling her quietly that she hadn’t needed to bring them. He whispered into her ear about how excited Ivy had been about Santa and how she’d been even more excited to wait for Ms. Anna.

She thought that her heart might pound out of her chest. Less at the thought that Ivy had wanted to wait for her, and more at the fact that Kristoff hadn’t told her not to. That he’d just whispered in her ear, and that he was making it extremely evident that he wanted her there from the very start.

“Ivy that’s so sweet. I can’t wait to see what Santa brought you!”

“I hope I got a Pokémon stuffy!” she said excitedly, running towards the tree that they’d decorated together.

It felt strangely domestic, like she belonged there because her touch was in the tree. Like she was family, and not just a new friend they’d invited to share their holiday.

“You know what?” Anna asked, feigning ignorance, “I don’t know if he did, but I’m sure you’ve been so good this year that you deserve it.”

Kristoff raised a brow at her, and Anna got the message. “Good cover.”

In fact she knew that Ivy had two Pokémon plushies under the tree, one from Santa, one from her Dad, and Anna also knew that there was one more in the box Kristoff had taken from her labeled with the little girls name and Anna’s own.

Being an elf had its perks.

“But first… if you don’t mind, I have a couple special gifts for you two to open.”

“You really didn’t have to,” Kristoff said, giving her a soft, but appreciative look that she knew she would treasure in her memories for as long as she lived.

She knew that she didn’t have to. But they didn’t have to share their Christmas with her either.

And also, she’d already fallen in love a little bit with them both, and she knew that for now presents were a good way to demonstrate that.

“I have a special present for you too Ms. Anna!”

“You do?”

“Yes!”

She looked over at Kristoff, who looked almost as surprised as she did.

“You mean the one we got her at the store yesterday sweetheart?”

“Nope! A special one! I made it, Mrs. James told me how!”

“Huh,” he said with a shrug, “I guess I’ll be as surprised as Ms. Anna then.”

“Would you mind if I gave you yours first?” Anna asked, excited to know what Ivy had made her, but more excited to give the little girl and her father the special gifts she’d gotten them first.

“Okay!” she said excitedly and ran into the apartment proper as Kristoff and Anna managed the process of her removing her outerwear, hanging it up, and him helping her bring in the gifts and treats.

Once Ivy and Kristoff had settled themselves on the small loveseat near the tree, and Anna had brought them their gifts, she settled into the well worn high back chair that served as the only other Livingroom seating.

“Okay. I have some other presents for you guys too, but these are the most important ones, so I want you to open them first, alright?”

Ivy was already tearing into the paper on the box. Not needing to be told twice.

She held up a little soft ornament, and then held it to her chest.

“It’s Mama,” she said in the quietest littlest voice she had ever heard her manage, and Kristoff quickly looked between Anna and the ornament.

It had been easy enough really, to look up Evelyn Taylor. She had a Facebook before she passed, and some friends on the page who mostly lived out of state. There wasn’t much that Anna could find on the page without sending a friend request that she knew, sadly, would never be answered, but there were a handful of photos that she had access to. One of her and Ivy, confirming that she had the right Evelyn Taylor in the first place. The little girl had been two or so at the time the picture had been taken, but her little face had even been then, so strikingly like Kristoff’s. Evelyn even looked a bit like him she thought, like a cousin. The others she’d found included some pictures of the girl with high school friends, a few shots of her looking brave in photos where she’d moved into her apartment, a photo or two of her without hair when she’d been going through chemo.

Anna had gotten them all printed, every single one she could find, and put them in a small box that was under the ornament. The ornament had been a last-minute project. She’d run to the store and picked up printable iron on paper and felt. She printed the photo of Ivy and her mother onto it, ironed it onto the felt, and did her best to channel her mother’s creativity to make a small Scandinavian style embroidered felt plush ornament. It was shaped like a heart, and on one side she’d managed to layer on felt and little stitched snowflakes, while the other held the image on white felt.

She felt a bit bad, of course, about not asking Kristoff if it was okay first, but she thought that the soft look he was giving her may be proof that sometimes it’s better to try for the surprise.

“How…?”

“I’ll tell you later,” she said before Ivy could even get to the box below, “You still have a box to open.”

He looked between her and Ivy for a long moment, like he wanted to say something else as the little girl was excitedly hugging her little ornament, but ultimately, he looked down at his own gift.

“Go on,” she said, eager to see if her surprise gift for him would be met with such excitement.

He opened his gift with less speed, but with equal interest.

She held her breath as he pulled out a small box and a small book.

“Is this… is this a DNA test?”

She felt tension return to her body. He didn’t sound upset really, just surprised, and she hoped that she hadn’t just crossed a line.

“I mean… it’s just… you know, if you ever want to. They’re expensive usually so a lot of people don’t do them, but my sister is in business and she happened to know a guy who knew a guy so I was able to get it for you for nothing. So it’s just if you want to dig in and do some research. You know because I’m a librarian and all. One track mind.”

“Anna…”

“I’m sorry if I crossed a line, I just thought…”

“Anna.”

She looked at him and saw he was smiling, a little bit teary eyed.

“Anna, thank you. I was going to buy one after the holidays. That project Ivy did… it made me realize that I want to know where I came from.”

“Oh… good. I’m…” she sighed, letting the tension leave her, “I’m glad, because I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

He smiled, and then looked at the book.

“But… uh, what’s Hygge?”

She laughed at that, feeling happy in a way she hadn’t ever remembered feeling outside of work, and she saw Ivy smiling brightly too, hopping down from the couch to go grab something from under the tree.

“Hygge is a Norwegian and Danish concept… it’s just, you know, since I hope you’re Norwegian like me. Hygge is just that cozy mood that we can’t put into words. I think you feel a lot of hygge when you get a moment to breathe when you’re with Ivy, and I thought you’d like the book. There’s another one I ordered you too, but it won’t come in for a while. It’s all Norwegian fairytales. I thought you might like to read them together.”

He grinned broadly and stood from the couch, walking over to her and taking her hand, “Anna this is…”

But Ivy cut him off before he could finish.

“Ms. Anna! I have your present, are you ready?”

“Of course! I’m so excited,” she said, giving Kristoff an apologetic smile and turning her attention towards the child who was holding something behind her back.

The little girl grinned in response and held up a picture she’d drawn in crayon. There were little green leaves and little white berries. It was immediately obvious to Anna what it was meant to be, and depending on how things turned out, she was either going to ban Mrs. James from the library, or send her a fruit basket.

“Is that?” Kristoff started.

“Mistletoe.” Anna finished.

She felt her face go hot, but then when she looked over at Kristoff, his hand still in hers, she saw him clearly doing some internal negotiating.

“May I… may we?” He asked.

“It is a tradition,” she said quietly, looking over at the little girl and giving her a bright, if not a bit embarrassed smile to let her know that she did in fact, love the drawing.

And before she could say anything else he was helping her off the chair and into his arms. She giggled when he kissed her, his stubble, now an almost beard tickling her skin.

Ivy, ever the encouraging an delighted audience, was jumping up and down.

“Santa must have gotten the letter I hid under the cookie plate last night!” she said delighted, “I knew Daddy liked Ms. Anna!”

Kristoff, ended the kiss a bit abruptly to look over to his daughter, a deep blush on his cheeks that Anna was sure was mirrored in her own.

He didn’t release her though, still holding her close, his touch tender but firm.

“Santa didn’t get a letter under the cookie plate last night,” he whispered low into Anna’s ear as Ivy took back off toward the tree, leaving her drawing on Anna’s chair.

Anna couldn’t help but giggle at his bewilderment. She thought that it was most likely that Ivy had simply dreamed writing the letter. Some kids her age had a hard time remembering what they had and hadn’t done when they woke in the morning.

“Well either the big man is more real than we thought, or Mrs. James has more connections than I thought. Or you know, she just dreamt the whole thing.”

He grinned broadly.

“Well someone must have gotten my letter too,” he said, a little louder, “Because Ivy is right. I do like you. I know it’s fast but…”

“I like you too Kristoff,” she said quietly, “And we can take this slower from here, but for now…”

He leaned in again, kissing her gently. She let her hand slide up, her palm cradling his stubbled cheek.

When they broke the kiss, they rested their foreheads together, the sound of tearing paper and Ivy’s excited cheering behind them.

“Merry Christmas Kristoff.”

“Merry Christmas Anna.”

She’d never been so grateful for a reference desk query in her life.

#kristanna #kristannasecretsanta2020 #librarian Anna #Single dad Kristoff #Firefighter Kristoff

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emersonfreepress · 3 years

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okay so is there content that you had planned for the ROs and story in general but then scrapped cause there wasn’t a good place in the story to stick it in? and if so, can you share what it was? 👀 👀 👀

yes, definitely. *rubs hands together* oh man, you done asked THE question today xD I can't wait to get into this 😁

Academics. I almost decided to have classes and grades be a minor part of gameplay, but the more time I spent designing it the more I realized I wanted nothing to do with it 😂 I haven’t really enjoyed academic gameplay in other interactive fiction because I 1) hate having to choose between studying and interacting with awesome characters, 2) have terrible short term memory, and 3) hate school in general!! So instead I just opted to have the MC be really good at school, point blank period so I could focus on social drama and relationships instead! 😆

Physical skills. I spent literal months crafting the catering scene around setting up stats for stamina/endurance, dexterity, and strength instead of just magnetism, confidence, and persuasion. They had their own backstories with the MC’s parents being overly invested sports parents instead and I think the background choices were like... martial arts, gymnastics, and track? But yeah, I ended up scrapping it all because I was spending hours on research about those individual sports so I could integrate them into the MC’s narrative organically but like... when I tried to think of what use they would be in the actual story, I came up blank. Best decision yet, esp since it means a lot less coding!

Skin tone customization. For one, I noticed that a lot of my favorite IFs don’t offer that customization and it hasn’t impacted my experience at all. For two, I originally realized I might as well not implement it since I am striving real hard not to introduce any customization that won’t actually be mentioned in interesting or meaningful ways in-story. I don’t think it’s really all that common for real life friends (esp in high school?) to comment or compliment each other’s skin and like... when it comes from someone who doesn’t share a similar complexion or ethnic background, that type of commentary gets... d i c e y. So then I wanted to be sensitive to that but what’s the pay-off? An RO mentioning how they love your skin tone once? Awkward sentences with the MC referring to their own skin color? Idk, just wasn’t vibing with it. I’m open to revisiting it in beta or something but for now it’s scrapped.

Singing, Rapping, and Gaming as Hobbies/Talents. I feel bad about scrapping these, honestly 😂 They’re great and I really wanted to incorporate them but it just came down to already having a lot of stuff to code. Plus, I know I can write the Hobbies/Talents I stuck with far better. And for Book 2 purposes, as well!

Leo. as @sourandflightypeaches asked me about a long while ago, I had to scrap an entire RO 😢 His name is Leo, he was the nephew of wealthy west African diplomats residing in Emerson, and I love him dearly! His backstory was largely based on my mother’s childhood and the circumstances she lived through after immigrating to America. and... ok, i’m about to go on one hell of a tangent so buckle up and bear with me if you can 😅

my intention with this story, aside from writing things that I personally enjoy (graphic violence, spooky woods, social drama, romance, conspiracies 😚), is to explore greed, wealth, and how the ways people and families interact with those two things influence young people and who they grow up to be. here i go sounding pretentious af 😝 and here’s where I apply a cut for those who want to preserve a little mystery to the main characters!

With Gabe, we’ve got someone who grew up with very little stability or financial security but who has found unscrupulous methods to gain status and money, with both noble and selfish motivations.

Kile has some of that childhood experience in common with Gabe, having been in the foster care system since infancy, but they lucked out when they were adopted into massive wealth by a caring, loving couple—a couple that uses their wealth and privilege to be far more lenient and protective of Kile than is actually reasonable or responsible.

Jack comes from a prestigious wealthy family on his dad’s side who he loves dearly but there’s no getting around the fact that they love him back as much as they despise his working class mom.

Jessie is a spoiled sweet heiress (being the baby of her family and the only girl) and while she lives blissfully ignorant of the harmful source and impact of her father's income and career, she bears the weight of the expectation to fulfill very traditional gender roles, including her behavior and appearance, but also extending to her career and life plans.

Rain's wealth led to them growing up sheltered and isolated but also extremely accommodated, giving them maximum freedom and opportunity to discover and develop their personal talents and interests. However, they have almost no positive relationship with their parents who have essentially decided to give up on a kid that couldn't be exactly the accessory they tried to mold them to be—both in terms of their identity and personality.

Rupan/Rohan, at their very core, rejects everything about conformity, self-importance, and excessive luxury—which means they have never, ever truly fit in with their peers. Going full non-conformist, however, has resulted in them becoming alienated from much of their family, as well, despite them all loving each other very much. Their history with false friends and betrayals has led them to over-indulge in their vices and reckless behavior to compensate for that isolation. Sometimes, they just get in over their head and many times, they know better. Every time, it's just that the feeling of finally belonging is utterly intoxicating.

Vivian/Vincent has two extremely successful parents who didn't inherit but instead built up their wealth and they aspire to be just like them, to a degree that is well and truly unhealthy. Their mother specifically is an over-achiever and applies mountainous pressure for them to follow in her footsteps, especially academically. Vi is completely capable of achieving what their mom expects of them, but they were already an extremely sensitive perfectionist so this has made them intensely critical of themself. This is a large part of why they are such a rigid, no-nonsense person and that in turn has made them one of the most disliked people among their peers—which is a huge personal failure to them since their father is a very well-liked and socially successful person in town.

And the Emersons are peak privilege: inherent high social status, brains, looks, charisma, athleticism, and massive wealth. They could never have been anything less than extremely popular, just by virtue of their last name and the nature of the town's social dynamics and politics. And they do enjoy that privilege (esp Curt lol). However, it should go without saying that being so high profile, even (or maybe especially) just in the isolated scope of your hometown, isn't always a boon. Their family's and their own perceived failings are widely discussed and privately mocked and/or celebrated. Real friends are scarce while fake ones and snakes are plentiful. Plus their dad is a gigantic dickhead who sees his kids as extensions of his own status and reputation and not much else. Public shortcomings make for an unbearable time at home and the world outside the estate is at once overly accommodating, full of assumptions, and even subtly hostile at times—all unrelated to their own actions or character.

And with the MC, I think the narrative will make it clear there are several ways that story can go. You start off with irresponsible parents that have lost their wealth due to their own mismanagement and material ambitions—how that affects any individual MC should differ based on choices and consequences!

So why bring any of that up when I was supposed to be talking about my cut OC? 😂😂

Leo was going to be the unwelcome recent addition to his uncle’s household, the son of a brother his aunt hates for (petty af) Reasons, and she took that resentment out on him directly by restricting his access to nearly every aspect of the family's wealth. Especially material goods and living conditions. He was basically treated like the help, tasked with playing nanny for his many younger cousins and burdened with doing the homework and providing academic cover for his dumb as rocks cousin in the same grade as you all. To sum it up, he was basically a victim of trafficking at the hands of his own family with his uncle out of town enough to feign ignorance to how bad his wife was treating his nephew and his aunt going out of her way to keep him busy, at home, and isolated. This is sadly a super common form of trafficking in Francophone African cultures (although I don't think most people view it as trafficking. and I’m sure the same is true of other cultures but I don’t want to speak outside of my purview). And like I mentioned above, it’s how my own mom's (and idek how many cousins') child/teenhood went.

It’s a perspective on modern wealth, privilege and greed that I really, really wanted to tell. I am confident in saying it hasn't been explored in interactive fiction yet (though correct me—and direct me 👀—if I'm wrong) and out of all the wealth/greed explorations I came up with, it's the one I have the closest personal ties to and the strongest feelings about. The characters and plans I had for it were detailed and I'm proud of them but at the end of the day... I just couldn't find a place for Leo in the story at large.

Leo was, in fact, the last main character I came up with, when I had already designed and fleshed out the larger story and started crafting the timeline of major events. I think the worst thing I could have done for a story and perspective that I care about this much is shove it into a plot that didn't have room for it at the very base level, regardless of how well the character or his story is written. Shoe-horned characters always stick out. I didn’t want to disservice Leo by having him be the character that did nothing or could be removed from the main plot without affecting it at all, y’know? That’s so much worse than just forgoing the indulgence, imo :((

ugh.... Leooooo 😭 I'm so sorry bb, I failed youuu 😥

#lovely anon #answered #hotmess #ok I am truly so sorry for going on and on like this #writing #ch design #ty for this question it was really nice to revisit this stuff 😃#and a nice reminder to not look back lol #scrapped

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americankimchi · 4 years

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ok and I GET the concept of attachments leading to vulnerability and therefore weakness but to impose that on a CHILD who so desperately needs a family, someone he could bond with, its honestly tragic. and since qui gon isnt there to do it anymore it falls on obi wan, whos basically a kid himself, whos dealt with rejection his whole life, and how can you expect him to provide anything, much less mentor a padawan?? idk i just have so many FEELINGS abt this and can’t put it into proper words lol

okay you know what i think that’s on qui gon because why!!! would you make the decision to rip a child away from his home like that so quickly!!! i get that they were making a movie and thus needed to speed things along for pacing reasons but COME ONNNNN

i feel like if it wasn’t restricted for movie reasons it would have gone down very differently. difference being: hey, maybe we don’t rip anakin away from his mom and leave not only his mom still in slavery but also punt a tiny child directly into a warzone.

hear me out

so assuming qui gon decides not to take anakin with him (at that moment in time because anakin is still going to be heading to the order just in a more meticulous fashion) right after meeting the skywalkers on tattooine, he still needs to get off planet. so he does the whole race thing yadda yadda he gets the engine and they take off

so here’s where it diverges: anakin stays on tattooine and never goes to naboo.

(bro this got so long i had to put it under a cut omfg)

but cindy!! you might say, leaving anakin on tattoine??? stuck in slavery??? how could you!!!

YES, but this is a temporary thing, just stay with me for a second

padme disagrees but relents because qui gon says he’ll come back for the boy when he’s not, you know, neck deep in the middle of tense wartime negotiations that could trigger a full scale onslaught at any moment. that’s no place to bring a small child into no matter how powerful in the force he is.

qui gon heads back to the council, gives his report, and then mentions anakin. mentions his fuckin. midichlorian count. which is still so ridiculous to me oh my god the midichlorian is the powerhouse of the force i GUESS

anyways

the council still disapproves, but qui gon makes the case that even if they don’t believe him about the chosen one thing it’s still dangerous to leave such a powerful force user out there untrained and vulnerable to the stresses and traumas of slavery. what if he turns to the dark side??? he’ll have ample reasons to if he’s stuck there, and the amount of destruction he could unleash by being untrained and powerful is unspeakable!! qui gon, being the master diplomat he is, even if he is constantly butting heads with the council, could probably convince them of the importance of at least meeting the child. hell, it’s not as if they haven’t broken people free from slavery before it’s honestly jedi basic training at this point

so the council agrees on the condition that qui gon is not allowed to personally mentor the boy because as it stands now he’s too close to the situation, too eager which honestly??? might have been a good chunk of the reason why the council was so against it in the first place. qui gon pushed for it too hard and for no real solid reason. and for fuck’s sake qui gon your padawan is right there

obi wan, awkwardly shuffling on his feet like..... yeah i’m here too master

SPEAKING OF OBI WAN

imagine how gutting it must be to hear that your master wants to get rid of you for the newer, younger model. like at this point obi wan is so used to this shit. abandonment? by qui gon??? it’s more likely than you think,

and obi wan’s ALLL ready to be like “yeah okay. i’ll just. go over here then i guess. fuck me for thinking that you respected me as a person or anything lmao right”

and qui gon’s just “ah fuck. i can’t believe i’ve done this”

anyways hand waves qui gon explaining his reasoning to obi wan and saying that he just wants to ensure that the boy gets the training he needs and obi wan understanding but asking if he really thinks he’s ready to be a knight genuinely or if he’s just saying that to get him out of the way and wow that thought actually hurt a bit lol!!! no problem though qui gon whatever you want haha i’ll just... be in pain. over here. ((:

and qui gon being like, “honestly obi wan the only reason you’re not actually knighted is because i cherish your companionship and i don’t want to let you go” because ANAKIN ISN’T THE ONLY ONE WITH ATTACHMENT ISSUES CASE IN POINT: MY MANS JINN

let’s be honest obi wan could’ve been knighted ages ago. the only reason he hasn’t been is because the master dictates when that step should be taken and qui gon wasn’t ready to let his surrogate son go.

anyways RECONCILIATION WHOO kicks that insecurity off of obi wan’s already weary shoulders because that gnarly bit of tension could’ve been avoided so easily with just a simple conversation!! wow!!! communication can do wondrous things who! would! have! known!!!!!

anyways

they get to naboo. how do they beat the trade federation without anakin? the force works in mysterious ways alright it happens they win boom.

now, onto qui gon. in this au qui gon lives because of that healthy bit of communication up there that went down. see that conversation? where they affirm how important they (qui gon and obi wan) are to each other? and how that bond was repaired and confirmed between their leaving coruscant and fighting maul on naboo and thus their harmonious fighting wasn’t impaired by that underlying resentment and betrayal and tension??? TELLING YOUR KIDS THAT YOU LOVE AND RESPECT THEM CAN DO AMAZING THINGS WITH YOUR ABILITY TO COORDINATE WITH THEM IN THE FIELD IMAGINE THAT

coughs

so they fight maul and maul gets turned into maul 1 and maul 2 and qui gon almost gets got but is saved just in time by his padawan who is!! right there with him!!! because qui gon WAITS 5 SECONDS FOR HIM TO CATCH UP so they can F I G H T T O G E T H E R. qui gon has a permanent limp and an ache in his spine that never really goes away but he’s ALIVE TO SEE THE NEXT SUNRISE BABEY

celebrations happen. and the most important bit of all here: palpatine never meets anakin on naboo.

why would he? anakin’s not fuckin there mate!!! maul wouldn’t even know anything about anakin because qui gon never bothered to take him with them to coruscant and maul was chasing the delegation from naboo, not going hunting for babies in the tatooinian sands

/kicks the palpatine was anakin’s experimental force daddy theory to the curb because. i don’t like it that’s why. suck it dickpatine.

ANAKIN NEVER MEETS PALPATINE!! ripples in the fucking pond babey

qui gon and obi wan ask a boon of padme, that boon being “hey can you give us truly disgusting amounts of money so we can go free those delightful people we had to leave behind on tatooine due to the fact that we were on a time crunch and also ripping people away from a familiar environment without a stable plan of action to provide them a better quality of life is actually called, as the professionals say, a dick move.”

and padme’s like “um fuck yeah here’s some cash let me know how this goes and give anakin and shmi my love”

SO OFF THEY GO TO TATOOINE TO FREE THE SKYWALKERS. shmi tags along to the temple because why wouldn’t she. she wants to see where her son is going to be going. she also pesters qui gon and obi wan constantly about the order and its philosophies and etc. etc. and subsequently gets a crash course in jedi doctrine that anakin also gets to sit in on and you know, educate himself on.

“we want you to know that being a jedi is a choice. being a jedi is a religion unto itself.” they say

“but it’s a set of philosophies that are meant to at its core help others live happy and free lives?” anakin (and shmi) ask

“that’s a very very very large generalization but i guess for the purposes of this conversation that could be seen as true. from a certain point of view,” they respond. qui gon then lets obi wan loose on his musings about the code because the code is simple, and complex in its simplicity, and how the beliefs of the jedi should be taken very seriously because it reflects their connection to the force and by extension the world around them etc. etc.

anakin makes it to the temple. anakin knows (at least a little) what it means to be a jedi. it’s not all light sabers and noble battles and fighting the good fight. it’s about sacrifice and humility and nobility and above all kindness and empathy and loving all things, great and small, and not letting your personal hatreds cloud your judgement even if it takes all your strength to do so

and most importantly to anakin: no attachments.

and that’s what anakin struggles with the most. that never changes. but this time shmi is there to explain it to him, and coming from shmi, the most important person in the world, makes it stick

“it doesn’t mean you love me less,” shmi explains. “it just means you don’t love everyone else less because you love me. it means not loving me to the exclusion of all else. it means love, but for everyone. for everything.”

and then the two jedi reaffirm that it’s a choice. it’s always about choice. you can’t be a jedi without choosing to be one, it’s not something that can be forced. either you believe in the lifestyle, or you don’t. simple as that.

“can i leave if i want to” anakin asks.

“yes. of course you can, any time.” qui gon responds.

“not sure why you would want to though, being a jedi is kind of super cool” obi wan adds, with a wink.

but anakin isn’t a jedi yet. he’s not even an initiate. he doesn’t want to leave his mom, not until he knows she’s safe. he wants to be a jedi he burns with the need to be a jedi, but he’s not sure if he can be a jedi. not the way that was explained to him anyways. but that’s okay because he has the time to decide!!! there are no sith lords breathing down his neck!!! he has two (2) in the flesh examples of what jedi can do, what jedi are, what they can accomplish in the world!!! most of all he has his mother there, supporting him either way!!!

maybe he does go into the order. maybe he does ultimately choose that life for himself. maybe he does manage to untangle himself from the snarls of attachment and apply himself wholeheartedly to the ways of the jedi. he might even succeed this time since palpatine has no fucking CLUE anakin’s even there!!! he’s not nine years old and freshly braided and attached at the hip to a mourning brand new knight, he’s nine years old and trying to figure out how the fuck you levitate off the ground with your legs crossed under you while his crechemates balance things onto his nose!!!

and you know what!! maybe he chooses to leave the order because it’s not for him, but this time he’s got enough stability in his life, in the way that he manages and examines his feelings, that he’s not a threat to himself and those he loves. maybe he becomes a mechanic and lives a nice, simple life with his aging mother and becomes penpals with a pretty girl from naboo. WHO KNOWWWSSS

and that’s important for anakin: knowing that it’s always a choice always his choice and that he never has to have anyone tell him who he can and cannot be because he is his own master now he has full autonomy and the jedi cannot and will not take that away from him

this got so long oh my god i just have so many THOUGHTS

qui gon taking anakin like that in tpm was such a rushed decision my man can you CHILL AND THINK

anyways,,,,, that’s all thank u for coming with me on this journey,,,,,,,

#YELLS ABOUT TPM INTO MY HANDSSSS #this is super long i'm so sorry ghfjkdghfj #star wars #anakin skywalker #qui gon jinn #shmi skywalker #obi wan kenobi #anon #ask #meta

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warsmith-38 · 3 years

Text

How I would do RWBY pt. 1

Revised Timeline of story events (This is not a script, but a semi-loose outline of the story)

Red, White, Blake, and Yellow trailers can stay. They’re perfectly fine as is, barring some early series production foibles (and the voice acting).

Series would be split into three arcs with three seasons each. 1. The School Arc 2. The World Travel Arc 3. The War Arc. (4. The epilogue season of mini episodes just to cap a few things off)

School Arc.

Season One.

Ruby is shopping.

Roman tries robbing the place.

Ruby gets involved because ‘fight good yes’.

Fights Roman and goons.

Beats goons but starts losing against Roman.

Glynda intervenes.

Roman am-scrays and Ruby is detained by Glynda.

This is not the first time Ruby has been called in like this.

She’s been doing free-lance vigilante stuff for a while now.

Tai comes in, worried to hell and back… again.

It’s almost routine by now, but he has a heart attack each time.

Ozpin gets wind of it this time.

Is impressed by her and offers her position at school.

Ruby says yes.

Tai says Ruby is too young to be-

Ruby says yes.

Tai keeps trying to argue-

Ruby. Says. YES!

She wants to be a huntress like her mother was more than anything else in the world.

Next few days is various entities trying to get Tai to greenlight the idea.

Ruby constantly begs, Yang says it’s a good idea, Ozpin is quite forward as to the benefits, et cetera.

Tai relents when Qrow calls him and argues that Ruby is never going to stop her vigilante thing and should at least be doing it legally and with training.

Tai tells Yang to watch over Ruby.

Yang only promises to try.

Ruby instantly loses her after they arrive at Beacon.

Yang tried, just not very hard. Wants Ruby to be independent, both from her and Tai.

Ruby meets Weiss.

Carefree and rebellious Ruby immediately clashes with stuck-up and bad-tempered Weiss.

Blake intervenes, slags off the SDC, everyone walks away annoyed.

Ruby meets Jaune.

Jaune is less bumbling.

More of an Octavian figure. Meek of body, but quite strong of tactical and strategic mind.

Jaune meets Pyrrha.

Has no idea who she is. Not all that into celebrity gossip, especially whole kingdoms away.

Comes off as polite and charming, if a bit oblivious.

Ruby encounters Blake on her own.

Says thanks for helping ward off angry Weiss.

Blake seems a little standoffish but Ruby’s infectious friendliness makes her give her a chance.

Have actual conversation about books.

Have minor debate over the exact meaning behind the symbolism of a character in a story.

Y’know, nerd shit.

Orientation.

Ruby and Weiss talk again.

Goes roughly as canon. IE: poorly.

Ren and Nora introduced, again, roughly as canon.

Ren talks a bit more, less of Nora motor-mouth with him just being there.

Have brief conversations with Jaune and/or Pyrrha.

Relic hunt starts.

Catapult!

Ruby and Weiss meet each other faster than usual.

Grimm show up and they kill them together.

Weiss calls her an idiot but agrees that she’s at least competent in a fight.

Blake and Yang meet each other.

Have actual conversation.

Blake tries to be standoffish and curt but Yang’s winning smile and corny sense of humor makes it hard.

Jaune and Pyrrha meet again.

Jaune has actual plan to get relic.

Have conversation about aura and semblances in a way that doesn’t make Jaune seem like he was dropped multiple times on his head as a child.

Says that he hasn’t unlocked his semblance yet, but he says that he scored high enough on his aptitude tests to make up for it.

Ren and Nora meet up because… well, duh.

Meet Jaune and Pyrrha and decide to team up to speed the overall process up.

Bumble into pissing off giant grimm.

Ruby and Weiss start arguing, come to brief blows even.

Teenagers, am I right?

Big grimm shows up.

They bond a little by fighting it off together.

Main characters start to coalesce at the relic site.

Future JNPR is there too.

Everyone has brief hello with each other.

The two large grimm from earlier show up.

Each would-be team gets one.

Happy teamwork scene.

Kill the grimm, get the relics, same old shit.

Teams RWBY and JNPR are made official.

Team CFVY are present as the designated senpai group.

Cue bonding scenes.

Ruby and Blake create book club with Ren, Jaune, and Yatsuhashi.

Yang, Fox, and Ren have Kung-Fu training scenes.

Velvet passes around the collection plate for Wild Call, a large and helpful faunus rights group.

Blake and Velvet are kind of tense with each other. No one knows why.

Then again, Blake is pretty tense with everyone, but especially Velvet and Weiss.

(Velvet knows that Blake is a faunus and dislikes that she hides it. Blake dislikes Weiss because Schnee.)

Ruby is happy to talk to Coco-senpai and her crazy purse mini-gun.

Nora, Yang, and Pyrrha have push up contest. Ruby wins.

Weiss helps Ruby study with things like flash cards, note taking strategies, and other things she ignores.

Weiss has tense moment or two with Ruby but Yang delivers some context as to why Ruby is so unruly.

Mom died, dad got WAY overprotective of Ruby and more than a little distant with Yang.

Ruby always wanted to be like her badass of a mother and saw their father as being in the way of that.

Weiss empathizes to a degree.

Weiss and Yang team up to be the semi-responsible ones for Ruby.

CRDL are cunts.

Act racist to Velvet.

Push Jaune and Ruby around a little.

Say ungentlemanly things to Yang and Pyrrha. (They do it to all of the girls, but to them the most)

Cunt stuff.

CVFY can’t do much because A. They can’t be brawling with underclassmen and B. They wouldn’t be able to not kill the little pricks and that’d be a bad look for them.

JNPR is just trying to ignore them.

This leads to a confrontation between CRDL and RWBY.

They make a bet over a set of sparring matches.

If CRDL wins then RWBY has to operate as their maids or something creepy like that for the school year.

If RWBY wins then CRDL has to fuck off for the school year.

Best of four matches with a team battle if a tiebreaker is needed.

Ruby actually loses to Cardin due to his tankiness, him being the most (IE: only) competent part of his team, and secret cheating.

Weiss beats Russel rather handily.

Blake loses to Dove due to him cheating and everyone still not noticing yet.

Yang traumatizes Lark as a warning.

Team battle!

CRDL takes an early advantage due to RWBY having some coordination issues.

RWBY figures out that CRDL is cheating via wire tapping into their team communications.

Ruby takes the reigns.

Coordinates with her team via code with an old inside joke to Yang, a literary reference to Blake, and one of those studying tricks to Weiss.

They act in ways that CRDL aren’t expecting and can’t cheat around.

RWBY wins.

Yang and Blake take CRDL aside and threaten them that if they renege at all they will make what Yang did to Lark look like a massage, not to mention telling the staff about the cheating.

They are scared into avoiding RWBY and co. where convenient.

CRDL slink off to be cunts elsewhere.

Pyrrha, because fuck ‘will they won’t they’, asks Jaune out on a date.

Jaune, breaking dense anime boy tradition, says yes.

They’re cute together and N+R support them.

Beginnings of Vital Festival starts.

Team RWBY sees Sun causing chaos.

He briefly introduces himself to them and then runs off to cause more monkey mischief.

SSN are right behind him and are rude bastards who don’t introduce themselves while fleeing the cops.

Penny meets team in glorious awkwardness.

Ciel, whom Weiss recognizes from Atlas (they went to the same starter school together), is constantly chasing after her and her antics.

Her other two teammates are just combat bots with special retrofits. (They’re prototypes for Penny)

Gives context of tournament and her place in it like an awkward robot would.

Weiss says something pretty damn racist directed towards Sun.

RBY call out Weiss on racism.

Blake gets angry with her.

The topic of the White Fang comes up.

R + Y both agree with Weiss that the White Fang are assholes, despite also condemning Weiss’ racism.

Weiss has horror stories about what they’ve done, including kidnapping her at young age.

Points to her scar for emphasis.

Blake can’t argue against what they’re talking about but counters with the horrible stuff the SDC has done across planet.

General scumbag corporate crap as well as paramilitary actions that break most international laws.

R + Y also agree with Blake that SDC sucks too.

Weiss is a little taken aback.

She genuinely had no clue that things like that were happening.

Blake lets slip that she was White Fang.

Runs off before people can react.

Team gives chase.

Blake thinks they’re going to turn her in and/or lynch her.

They only want to talk to her and get the full story.

Weiss is conflicted about things.

Sun finds Blake, says that he remembers her from a White Fang attack in Vacuo, despite the masks they wear, and wants some answers.

Sun says that general opinion among faunus (at least in Vacuo and Mistral) is that the White Fang are asshole supremacists that cause more problems than they ever solve or even try to solve.

Blake gets reality check about White Fang.

Confesses that she was involved with some acts of violence but thought it was for the greater good.

She makes a point of saying that she, herself, did not kill anyone. If anyone was killed it was not by her.

If someone died, then it was either an ‘accident’ someone else did or Adam swung the sword.

Also thought that the genuinely horrible stuff she heard was propaganda or just Adam being a dick.

It was said dickishness of Adam’s cell that was tolerated by larger organization that made her leave and try to repent.

She had no idea that Adam was only marginally more of a lunatic than other cell leaders.

Blake happens to see telltale signs of White Fang attack. Uses them as an excuse to change subject.

Sun gives her benefit of the doubt on her attempt at personal redemption and assists her in trying to stop terrorist plot.

Penny has nothing better to do so she gives Ciel the slip and starts helping Ruby look for Blake.

Have conversation about friendship, freedom, and weapons.

Weiss airs concerns to Yang about future of team.

She seems scared at the idea of losing a friend like Blake.

White Fang are taking orders from Torchwick and his goons.

Blake tries to appeal to their good side.

They call her and Sun race traitors and try to kill them.

Blake and Sun vs Torchwick.

Neo (Roman’s adopted daughter) shows up to help Torchwick.

White Fang go all out.

This is a problem.

RWY and Penny arrive to brawl.

Penny solves problems.

Sun and Penny take on the White Fang

Roman + Neo are final boss of season for RWBY.

Hard fought fight, but it is clear that RWBY is going to win.

White Fang have contingency explosive.

No one important dies, but Penny is grabbed by her superiors in the confusion.

Weiss and Blake confrontation.

Both apologize for the mistakes in their earlier arguments and for flying off the handle.

Both still have rose-tinted glasses about their respective sides but the tint is wearing off.

Blake stops hiding being a faunus because the rest of the world isn’t as horrible and racist as the supremacist terrorists told her it was.

Agrees to be more transparent to her team.

Weiss agrees that #notallfaunus and that the SDC has done some dirt.

Torchwick meets with mysterious benefactor about problems with latest job.

Cinder, Emerald, Mercury, and Adam tell him not to worry and that Evil Plan is still a go.

Season one done.

#RWBY #RWDE #I guess #Ruby Rose #Weiss Schnee #Blake Belladonna #Yang Xiao Long #Ozpin #JNPR #How I would do...#Hate if you wish #Team CFVY

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thefandomsinhalor · 3 years

Text

Title: Let Your Heart Be Light

Author: thefandomsinhalor

Fandom: Supernatural

Pairing: Castiel/ Dean Winchester

Summary:

On Christmas Eve, five-year-old Dean meets a boy of the same age, named Castiel. With every passing year, their friendship blossoms, and soon, Dean knows that he is drawn to his friend more deeply he’d like to admit.

The question is: will he do something about it before it’s too late?

Read on AO3

(I will update throughout the month)

Read Chapter One below :)

Chapter One: Thursday, December 24th, 1998

“Dean, honey, what do we say?”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome! Ho-ho-ho!”

The man pretending to be Santa Claus amicably bopped Dean’s head before walking away to the next couple of children standing by, awaiting their present.

Yes, Dean Winchester, despite being five-year-old, wasn’t fooled by this imposter. He knew this man couldn’t possibly be the real one.

It was quite simple, really. It was late afternoon, he hadn’t climbed down the chimney, nor had he any cookie or milk laid out for him.

And then, there was the gift in question.

Dean didn’t want to seem ungrateful, as he knew his mother wouldn’t like it, but he had been very specific in his letter to Santa.

And there was no way this flat, though large, box contained the very intricate race track set he had begged for.

But that was fine. As he had concluded, this man wasn’t Santa. He was just pretending. Like the one at the mall. Or the one near the video store.

No. The real Santa was yet to come.

“Don’t you want to know what you got?” his father asked him.

Glancing around him, Dean realized that nearly every child had already torn open the wrappings and were enjoying their Christmas surprises. Fire trucks. Coloring books. Dolls and soldier toys. Even Sammy, sitting on his mother’s lap, was hugging a cute teddy bear.

Feeling the stare of both his parents on him, Dean began tearing off the metallic blue and silver wrapping, which had snowflakes of various shapes on it, and was left staring at his present, puzzled once he had opened the box.

He had no idea what he was looking at. It was a thin layer of material, of a bright yellow color, with adorable bees depicted on it, stretched across a wooden frame, and a string attached to it.

“Oooh, that’s nice,” said Mary gleefully.

Noticing his confused state, John asked him, “Do you know what this is, Dean?”

Frowning, he shook his head at his father.

“It’s a kite,” he said kindly. “You make it fly.”

Dean lowered his eyes to look at his present again.

“Like in Mary Poppins,” said Mary. “You remember?”

He nodded.

“Next time we go to the park,” said John, “we’ll try it. Or even when we visit Uncle Bobby. He certainly has the open fields around his house for it.”

A grown-up, one of many present swarming around in the house, then called out to Dean’s parents. It was a nice lady named Tamara who smiled at Dean and wished him Merry Christmas.

“Isaac is somewhere in the parlor talking with Rufus and Bill Harvelle. They were asking for you, John,” she said to Dean’s father.

“Bill?” said Mary. “Did he and Ellen bring little Joanna with them?”

“That’s what he said. I was just on my way to find them.”

Keeping Sam in her arms, Mary stood up from her seat, scanning the room for her friend.

“I’ll go check on Isaac and the others, and then I’ll catch up with you to see Ellen and the baby,” said John, smiling at his wife’s eagerness to see the newborn. He then turned to his son. “Do you want to say hello with me, Dean? Or would you prefer going with Mom, Sammy and Tamara?”

Dean shrugged. Talking to grown-ups wasn’t exactly what he considered a thrilling activity. Of course, there were exceptions.

Due to his lack of enthusiasm, however, his mother then suggested, “How about you stay here with the other children?”

Another questionable prospect, thought Dean.

Most of the kids in the living room, laughing and playing with their new toys, seemed much older than he was.

And more importantly, he didn’t really know any of them.

The celebration, which Dean and his family were taking part in that day, had been hosted by Mr. Donatello Redfield, one of Dean’s neighbors.

Except for when John had raked his lawn in the fall, a task dutifully assisted by Dean—though he had mainly played in the pile of dead leaves while his father had done most of the work—Dean hadn’t had much interaction with Mr. Redfield.

He remembered that he had been very generous at Halloween when he and Sam had stopped by his house. Mr. Redfield had given them enormous delicious candy bars. And Dean also recalled him letting him taste his spicy chicken wings on the Fourth of July, in the previous summer.

But nothing much beyond that, and especially during Christmastime. For reasons unknown to Dean, Mr. Redfield didn’t make a fuss of the holidays. He typically travelled somewhere exotic and returned home in the new year with a sunburn on his nose.

This year, however, had been different. For health-related reasons, or so Dean had heard, Mr. Redfield had been recommended to pause his travels, and given his holiday habits, many of his concerned neighbors feared he would feel lonely and had wanted to keep him company.

So, due to numerous dotting neighbors, friends and colleagues showing up at his doorstep throughout the months of November and December, Mr. Redfield had decided to host a Christmas family-friendly party on Christmas Eve to thank everyone.

His first ever.

The crowd was merry. Laughter and cheers from children and adults alike filled the entire house.

But despite the jolly vibe in the air and the numerous children present, Dean hadn’t been too keen on exploring on his own.

When he told his parents why that was, his mother said, “That’s a good thing, sweetie. It means you can make a new friend. Okay?”

Assessing his mild hesitation, after he had glanced apprehensively at the other children, she pointed out that he had nothing to worry about and that if he was shy, he could start by joining another of their neighbors. For example, Mrs. Missouri, a kind and generous woman, was comfortably sitting in a rocking chair, telling a story to a few children gathering around her, and listening with attention and with wide eyes, near the fireplace.

Suddenly determined to prove that he was not shy, Dean shook his head and said, “I’ll go play with the others, first.”

Even if he really wanted to say hello to Missouri as well.

“Alright, buddy. Do you want me to hold this for you while you do that?” said his father, pointing at his kite, but Dean expressed that he wanted to keep it with him.

And without further ado, young Dean turned on his heels and joined the group of children, searching for a new friend.

He was briefly tempted to approach a joyous girl with a blond ponytail and a sheriff’s hat that was too big for her. She was laughing with her friend who had a very strange haircut. His hair was very short in the front, but really long in the back. They were playing Connect Four, which Dean enjoyed playing.

He changed his mind, however, when a bunch of older children swooped by, running around, taking a lot of space.

Feeling somewhat intimidated by them, Dean briefly glimpsed back to the spot where his parents and his brother had been a moment ago.

But they were no longer present, as he knew they wouldn’t be.

He swallowed hard and decided to go near the large window across the room to avoid the bigger kids. He kneeled next to the Christmas tree, taking in the overwhelming scent of pine and cinnamon, and observed the room from this new angle, holding on tightly to his kite.

Everyone else seemed to know each other and blissfully occupied themselves with their toys.

Which made sense, thought Dean, as their toys could be enjoyed in their current environment.

Unlike Dean’s.

“Hello.”

Dean looked up.

A boy his age and height, with bright blue eyes and thick, wavy dark hair, was suddenly standing right in front of him. He was wearing a green knitted sweater with an angel on it and his socks were different colors.

“Hi.”

“Do you want one?” the boy asked politely.

He was holding a square box against him with one hand.

And then, Dean’s eyes fell on what the boy was presenting him with his other hand.

Star-shaped sugar cookies.

“For me?”

The boy nodded.

After Dean accepted his generous offer, the boy sat next to him and they both ate their treats next to each other.

“What did you get?” he asked Dean, nodding at what he was holding.

Pursing his lips, Dean showed him his kite. Expecting the boy to be as disappointed as he was, he was then stunned to see the boy’s eyes widen.

“You’re so lucky,” he told him.

“You think so?”

“I like bees,” he said, after nodding. “And kites are fun.”

“I’ve never had one before.” Eyeing the box that the boy had rested next to him, he said, “What’s yours?”

And the boy slid himself closer to Dean to show him.

Right next to him.

They delicately opened the box together.

And to Dean’s delight, the boy retrieved a giant rainbow slinky.

“Whoa! That’s so cool. Can we play with it?”

“You like it?”

His eyes glued to it in adoration, Dean nodded.

“Do you want it?”

Young Dean blinked. “What?”

“We can exchange, if you want.”

“Really?”

And moments later, both boys were content with their new presents. Dean certainly believed that he had gotten the better end of that deal. At that thought, a mild pit grew in his stomach, not unlike when he sometimes lied to his mother about brushing his teeth.

Feeling uneasy that he had perhaps taken advantage of his new friend’s generosity, he asked him, “Are you sure you don’t want the slinky? It’s really fun and the colours are nice. It was yours first. I—if you changed your mind, it’s okay.”

But the adorable boy in question did not mind. In fact, he informed Dean that the main reason why he was so keen on having the kite was because his brother had one of his own. So now, he would be able to accompany him to the park without having to constantly ask him to share.

Reassured—not to mention, very glad to know he could keep his rainbow slinky—Dean said, “I have a brother too. He’s younger than me.”

“I have more than one brother. I have three. They’re all older than me.” The boy hadn’t said it with as much enthusiasm as Dean had. His brief morose expression disappeared though, and a warm grin spread on his face when his eyes met Dean’s.

His bright blue eyes staring back at him.

“What’s your name? I’m—” started saying the other boy, but he was cut off by an impeccably dressed teenager, who had stopped right in front of them.

“Castiel, there you are. Come, now. We have to go.”

Dean’s new friend shook his head vehemently at the teen. “No. I want—I just made a friend. Can I stay a little longer? Please?”

“Aunt Naomi said we have to leave now or we’ll be late.”

“Michael, please? I’ll—”

“She asked me to find you. I found you, now come on.”

“Michael,” hissed a woman. “It’s time to go—Gabe, stop! You’re making me dizzy.”

A child with sandy hair, not much older than Dean and Castiel, was running relentlessly around her, chortling and unspent.

“Castiel, say goodbye.” And his brother presented him his hand, signalling to him that he had to leave immediately.

He turned facing Dean and said softly, “Goodbye.” And added, waving at him, “Thank you for the kite. I love it.”

“Bye.” And Dean thanked him as well.

He watched his new friend walk away towards his family members, a large group, mostly consisting of older kids and adults, and disappeared through the crowd.

Feeling lonely once more, Dean was suddenly sad when he realized that he never had the chance to tell him his name.

He comforted himself, however, that he had caught the boy’s name and was eager to tell his parents of his new friend and the very first Christmas present he had ever received from a friend.

And that was the day Dean had met his best friend Castiel Novak. His best friend of many years to come. And one day, perhaps, something more.

Read on AO3

(where I will update throughout the rest of the month)

#Destiel fanfic #spnpetra #destiel fluff #spn fic #SPN xmas #kid fic #growing up #my fanfic #spn fandom #spn fam #spn family

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kpopfanfictrash · 5 years

Text

Greek Life

Author: kpopfanfictrash

Pairing: Taehyung / Reader

Word Count: 3,218

AU: Demigod / College Fraternity

Dialogue Prompt: "Are you suggesting an orgy?” (warning: this got a bit darker than intended but there’s light at the end!)

↳ part of my AU drabble game

“Alright.” Both arms crossed over his chest, Seokjin glared at Hoseok, son of Apollo. “I just want to be clear about one thing tonight.”

Without glancing up from his phone, Hoseok pushed dark Gucci sunglasses up the bridge of his nose. “Yes, brother?”

“Not brothers,” Seokjin corrected. “Anyways, this is me reminding you that your set volume cannot be over 100 decibels tonight. If we get another noise complaint, this house is toast.”

If Hoseok did roll his eyes, Seokjin couldn’t see through the sunglasses. The generally dismissive slouch of his posture was answer enough.

“Yeah, sure, whatever,” Hoseok drawled.

Seokjin’s frown deepened. “Yeah, I’m afraid I’m gonna need more than that. The last time you said you’d keep it down, we hit 125 decibels and the house nearly collapsed.”

“A gross exaggeration,” said Yoongi, son of Hades, currently curled up on the sofa. “As the demi-god of earthquakes –”

“Actually, Poseidon is in charge of earthquakes.”

“– seeing as we have no son of Poseidon in this house, I am demi-god of earthquakes, and I can inform you that the house was not close to falling down.”

“Irregardless,” Seokjin said.

“Irregardless isn’t a word!”

Namjoon’s voice drifted from somewhere on the third floor. As son of Athena, goddess of wisdom and strategy, Namjoon took grave offense to grammatical errors.

Seokjin sighed. Rubbing his forehead, he contemplated whether his continued attempts at decency were worth it. At least if he tried, he could tell himself he did everything he could to stop chaos before it arrived. Decision made, Seokjin fixed Hoseok with his best no-nonsense glare. It was a good one, to be sure. As the son of Demeter, goddess of harvest and earth, Seokjin was the most grounded one in the fraternity.

“Hoseok,” he said. The younger demi-god looked up. “You will keep it down or I’ll personally call your father.”

The smirk disappeared from Jung Hoseok’s face. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Oh, but I would.”

Seokjin sounded so stern, Hoseok didn’t feel like calling him out. Despite his cooler-than-thou appearance, Hoseok had major daddy issues – as in, he hated his. Apollo was a difficult guy to be be cuddly with, to be fair. On the surface, he seemed everything a father figure should be: personable, warm and awe-inspiring. Apollo was the god of the sun, healing, prophecy, music and poetry. As one might expect from the god of the sun though, he had rather high expectations for his offspring.

Hoseok didn’t care about greatness, so long as he had a good tune and good times. One time, he semi-jokingly proposed to Apollo that he become the demi-god of DJ’s and sick beats. Apollo wasn’t amused by the suggestion.

“Fine.” Hoseok placed both feet on the floor. “Dearest Seokjin, I will try to keep it down but know this,” he said, pushing a hand through his hair. “You have ruined the soul of an artist.”

Seokjin tried not to laugh. “Yeah, cool. I’ll take my chances.”

Turning around, Seokjin exited the living room into the main hall. There, he found himself face to face with what could only be described as chaos. Taehyung, son of Dionysus, absently twined grape vines up the stairs while Jimin, son of Aphrodite and Jungkook, son of Zeus, argued in front of the door.

Taehyung cocked his head while he stared at the bannister, trying to make sense of it all. As the son of Dionysus – god of wine, fertility and ecstasy – he was not unaccustomed to parties. Even his origin story at the frat involved one. When the other men showed up this year for their first day of campus, they found Taehyung entrenched in their backyard, midway through the biggest beach rager the University had ever seen.

As to his method of arrival and when, even Taehyung was not sure on the details. General merriment seemed to follow him wherever he went. The moment he decided to attend University, obviously the party followed him to his new destination.

Regardless, Taehyung was welcomed into Beta Tau Sigma (BTS) with open arms, due to the similarities he had with its other members. Taehyung was descended from a god of the Greek Pantheon, as they all were. Most mortals were shocked to learn gods and demi-gods still walked amongst them. Most mortals were blind, though and rarely saw what was beyond their noses.

Taehyung looked up, surveying the chaos before him. Kim Seokjin, eldest of the house, usually adopted a parental role to the others. At that moment, he had both hands on his hips and was attempting to mediate a fight between Jimin and Jungkook.

Already, sparks leapt from Jungkook’s fingers while Jimin’s gaze burned ruby-red with his anger.

Jimin, son of Aphrodite.

Sweet and beautiful, with a temperament to match until you spoke ill of his loved ones. Then, all bets were off and as lovely as Jimin could be, his temper was far worse. Sweet words turned poisonous when spewed from his lips, since Jimin was also armed with the gift of persuasion. Jungkook attempted to avoid said power by not looking Jimin in the eyes.

“Look!” Jungkook said, one hand over his face. “I didn’t say your mother was easy! I just said she has a lot of demi-god children. That’s all!”

“She’s the goddess of love,” Jimin hissed, attempting to swat Jungkook’s hand down. His gaze burned scarlet in an otherwise calm expression. “Obviously she has children! You’re one to talk, anyways. How’s good ‘ol dad doing? Impregnated any mortals recently? Turned himself into a ray of light? A cow?”

“Hey! He turned Io into a cow, not himself!”

“How is that better?”

Shrugging, Jungkook nearly stumbled as he crashed into an a thousand-year-old lamp.

Appearing from nowhere, Yoongi deftly caught this and replaced it on the counter. “Welcome,” he mumbled, drifting into the kitchen.

For a minute, Jimin and Jungkook forgot their fight and stared.

“Dude needs to announce himself more,” Jungkook said, momentarily thrown.

Shoving both hands into the pockets of his hoodie, Jungkook revealed a small rip in the seams. Despite his grunge, Jungkook was still one of the most handsome guys around campus. It was hard not to be with his chiseled jawline, tousled hair and dark, piercing gaze. If there were a student vote on who was most likely to be a demi-god amongst them, Jeon Jungkook would be the unanimous favorite.

Still, he had problems of his own. Mainly that despite all his achievements, his father continued to insist he failed to meet expectations. A demigod of Zeus was powerful and as such, was expected to accomplish great feats. So far, Jungkook had only been the youngest person ever to climb Mt. Everest, written a collection of poems reviewed in Time Magazine, discovered a purpose for the appendix not previously thought of and contributed several designs to NASA’s most recent launch.

Zeus called it all child’s play.

Shortly following, Jungkook stopped trying to impress his father and enrolled in University. Still, it wasn’t unusual to run into Jungkook at odd hours of the night, muttering corrections of Machiavellian theory with a bottle of wine in one hand.

All of this went to say that Taehyung understood why Jungkook was sometimes an ass. Jimin was lucky amongst them, as far as demi-gods went. He had intense, emotional power but he also had a goddess who loved him. Taehyung, on the other hand, had rarely seen his father since he had discovered what he truly was. It was hard having a father in charge of general celebration. It meant Dionysus was often called elsewhere, usually interrupting any father-son bonding time.

“Listen.” Seokjin rubbed his forehead. “You two are giving me an Athena-sized headache. Stop bickering and help Taehyung – his vines are out of control.”

Glancing at his hands, Taehyung realized Seokjin was correct. While he had been watching them argue, his vines had taken on a life of their own. They twined around his legs, the banister and sprouted large clusters of pomegranates (which, frankly, didn’t make any sense). Absently, Taehyung plucked one of them and took a large bite. Lately, he’d been very interested in pomegranates.

Clomping his way downstairs, Namjoon batted vines out of the way. “Are you going to clean this up before tonight?” he said to Taehyung, who nodded. To Seokjin, he added, “And watch what you say about my mother.”

“I was being literal!” Seokjin protested. “Your mom was literally born from Zeus’ mind, so obviously her birth was a headache. I don’t make the rules –”

“Thank the gods for that.”

“Shut up, Jungkook.”

This last statement was exclaimed by Jimin, Seokjin and Namjoon combined. Abruptly, Jungkook turned around on his heel and exited the lobby. Once he was gone, some of the red dissipated from Jimin’s gaze.

He looked sympathetically at Taehyung. “Need help cleaning?” Jimin offered, laying a hand on the bannister.

His touch instantly trimmed the vines, sending blossoming roses over the rest.

Taehyung wrinkled his nose. “This looks… somehow worse.”

“Sorry, man.” Jimin’s lips twitched. “My botanical powers only go so far.”

With a wave of his hand, Seokjin transformed the mess into neat, tidy rows of vines up the staircase. As the son of Demeter, he had the best grasp over all earthly elements.

“There.” Satisfied, Seokjin dusted both palms on his pants. He looked curiously at Taehyung. “You alright, man? Lately, your powers have been, uh…”

It was considered impolite to comment on another demi-god’s powers; hence why Seokjin trailed off at the end.

Taehyung tilted his head. “They’ve been what, exactly?”

Seokjin seemed distinctly uncomfortable. “Off?”

“On the fritz,” said Jimin helpfully.

“Borderline chaotic,” Namjoon added.

Taehyung considered their input. “Borderline chaotic is kind of my nature, no?”

“Yes, but…” Namjoon shook his head. “Not like this.”

Chewing on his lip, Taehyung was forced to admit they were right. His powers had always been intense, but they were usually controlled. Despite the influence he exerted over others, Taehyung could never party or grow drunk on his own power. In his opinion, this was his great curse. No matter what Taehyung did, he always found himself the eye of the hurricane, the center of the storm. He could never lose himself in the relief he provided to others; could only watch while they did.

Lately though, his powers had changed. They were darker, less controlled and had a frustrated edge. Glancing down at the pomegranate he held in one hand, Taehyung saw the seeds were an ominous shade of dark purple.

“It’s because of Y/N,” Jungkook said as he entered the room.

Taehyung’s head snapped up.

Leaning his shoulder to the wall, Jungkook stared lazily back. Power crackled restlessly about him like thunder.

“What?” He arched a brow. “You know I’m right.”

Though Taehyung’s lips parted, he had no response because Jungkook was correct. If Taehyung retraced his magic to the moment it changed, it was around the time he met you. Or, more accurately, it was around the time you rejected him.

Taehyung’s stomach twisted.

“Who’s Y/N?” Namjoon asked, glancing between them.

Taehyung tried and failed to look casual. “No one.”

He could barely push the words past his lips, which prompted Namjoon to arch a brow. “Doesn’t seem like no one.”

“She is,” Taehyung muttered. “She wants nothing to do with me – rightfully so. Which means that she’s no one.”

“That seems harsh, Tae,” Seokjin chastised. “How do you know?”

His gaze softened looking at Taehyung. Taehyung was the youngest amongst them aside from Jungkook, so the other demi-gods felt the need to protect him. No one else thought to, thanks to Taehyung’s abilities but in him, the others saw their younger selves. His powers drained him so often and left him feeling exhausted from their personal nature.

When Taehyung said nothing more, Jungkook sighed. “Just the usual,” he said, a bit gentler. “The same girl came to a few of our parties. Taehyung liked her. His powers got out of control. When she tried to kiss him, he pulled his powers away and she freaked. Ran out of the party before he could explain.”

“What would I explain?” Taehyung said, unable to help himself. The vines at his feet withered and turned an unnatural shade of black. “Hey, sorry about that! I’m just the demi-god of parties and wine. You got too buzzed on my power, so I tried to pull back and return your free will. Wanna hang?”

Even Namjoon had no response, rubbing the back of his neck. “Or,” he suggested. “You could just apologize about the party and offer to buy her a coffee.”

Taehyung looked up. “That’s just a temporary fix, right? Eventually, I’ll have to tell her and – let’s face it – who would stay? I’ve seen what these powers do to my dad. I’ve seen what they did to his other children. It’s pointless to become attached to a mortal.”

Out of all Dionysus’s children, Taehyung was the only one currently living. Most had been famous throughout history – musicians and actors known more for their parties than the talent they had. Many died young, unable to cope with the effects of their powers. Taehyung knew it was smart to push you away, since he couldn’t control himself and his powers often proved lethal.

Still, a pang entered his stomach whenever he thought of you. Whenever he remembered the shape of your lips, the way that you smiled and the uncertain way your fingers curled in your sundress. You laughed in two ways when you talked. One was a quiet, self-conscious giggle, but other was Taehyung’s favorite. It was more of a snort than a laugh, granted whenever Taehyung said something particularly funny.

The memory of this made Taehyung’s heart twist and he swallowed, looking away from the others.

At the bottom of the stairs, Jimin seemed distressed by his pain. He probably was; oftentimes, Jimin confused other people’s emotions for his own.

“I’m sorry, Tae,” he said softly.

“S’alright,” Taehyung muttered, even though it wasn’t.

“Can I do anything to help?” Jimin brightened. “Want me to use my powers, or something?”

Jungkook looked at him in amazement. “Are you suggesting an orgy? Dude, this hardly seems like the time.”

Jimin glared. “That’s not all my powers are good for, you jackass. I can make people forget their troubles, you know. At least for a little while.”

The tips of his fingers glowed faintly pink and Jungkook glanced at his hands, thoroughly unnerved. Jimin’s power of persuasion extended beyond simply telling others what to do. He could make someone else feel happy, sad, tired or angry – a hefty power, although it wore off after awhile and wasn’t quite as good as the real thing.

Taehyung shook his head. “No, thanks. Appreciate the offer, though.”

“Anytime.”

As he climbed the stairs, Seokjin clapped Taehyung on the shoulder. “Sorry, man,” he mumbled, understanding the fear. Truly, they all did. “Let me know if you need anything. I’m gonna bake later if you wanna stop by.”

Taehyung smiled despite himself. If there was one earthly power which could cure his longing, it was Seokjin’s cookies. “Thanks, man.”

Shooting him a sympathetic look, Jungkook nodded and Jimin poked him hard in the ribs. “C’mon,” Jimin said, jerking his chin. “Let’s go help Hobi with his playlist before Seokjin pops a vein worrying.”

A giant grin stretched over Jungkook’s face, which the rest of them should have found worrisome.

“Cool.” Head bobbing, he followed Jimin down the hall. “Yoongi showed me this great eastern European doom metal band. Gonna see if I can get Hobi to play it tonight.”

Jimin snorted, his voice growing softer the further away he got. “Get the demi-god of the sun to play doom metal? Good luck with that, man.”

“Maybe if I tell him Mariah Carey covered it.”

The sounds of their conversation faded to nothing, leaving Taehyung alone in the hall with Namjoon. Turning quickly, Taehyung attempted to leave but was halted in his descent by Namjoon clearing his throat.

Slowly, Taehyung looked up at his friend.

Namjoon looked back.

No one could stare quite like Namjoon. He had a piercing gaze, as though he saw every piece of your soul and was able to size you up to expectation. It made Taehyung wildly uncomfortable, as it did most people.

“You know you’re only a half god, right?” Namjoon tilted his head. “Part of you is also human.”

“I know.” Taehyung’s voice came out somewhat petulant, though he did not mean it to be.

Crossing both arms, Namjoon leaned a shoulder against the wall. His irises glowed the gentle gold of Athena. “It’s hard to control our powers,” he admitted. “It is, but there are difficulties in any relationship. Don’t give up on your own happiness.”

A wan smile crossed Taehyung’s lips. “Are the difficulties in most relationships that the guy semi-drugs his girlfriend whenever he loses control?”

Namjoon winced. “You don’t drug them.”

“Feels like it,” Taehyung muttered, glancing down.

“Their natural impulses are already there,” Namjoon pointed out. “Your presence at parties doesn’t make people drunk. People drinking makes people drunk. You only lower their inhibitions, call out their truth, give people the freedom inebriation gives without intoxication. You grant people their truest form – which is a gift, not a curse.”

Taehyung didn’t respond. He knew Namjoon was right, at least in part. Still, there existed within him a kernel of darkness he couldn’t control. His power was linked to such horror and melancholy; it was hard sometimes to see the light.

“Hey.” Namjoon took a step closer. His voice took on that maddening wisdom which came from the goddess. “We all have burdens. Humans do too, along with demi-gods. Our greatest strengths are often our greatest weaknesses. Someone who’s confident is prideful. Someone who’s humble? Inactive. Someone who rationalizes, often fails to empathize. It’s why relationships are necessary, Taehyung – they provide balance. You can’t simply close yourself off from the rest of the world.”

Taehyung’s gaze sharpened, looking up from the floor. The vines at his feet unfurled, reminding them that while Taehyung’s power was mostly parties and fun, there was a dark side of revelry which couldn’t be forgotten. Madness and misery emerged just as often as goodness when he called true selves forth.

“Okay.” Taehyung kept his voice level.

Seeing he wouldn’t budge on the matter, Namjoon sighed.

Truthfully, Taehyung heard his advice and longed to accept it, but found it too hard. It was difficult when his chest ached for you, when he couldn’t stop chastising himself for the moment you ran from his house.

Namjoon nodded and turned down the staircase. “Let me know if you need anything,” he called over his shoulder. “Gonna go and make sure Yoongi hasn’t turned the basement into another séance, or something.”

As he left, his footsteps growing quieter, Taehyung stared the sight of his retreating back. Uncertainty entered the pit of his stomach, wondering if perhaps Namjoon was right. The sanest to date Taehyung had felt was the past year in the house, living amongst others who understood what he was.

Maybe it was foolish of him to push you away.

As soon as he thought this, his phone chimed in his pocket. The sight of your name at the top of his screen sent his heart soaring, wondering if this coincidence was something he couldn’t ignore. Pushing blue-black hair from his eyes, he unlocked your text.

Y/N: hey. I just wanted to apologize for leaving so quickly. I think I drank too much, got carried away but… I really liked our conversation. Would you want to get coffee sometime? [4:15 PM]

Taehyung’s heart constricted, his hands trembled and before he could stop himself, he was responding.

Taehyung: yes, please. When?? [4:16 PM]

Author’s Note: hey, I just got service at the hotel so I’m posting but I haven’t proof-read as much as I usually do! Please forgive any errors, I promise to read over it again in the coming days :) thank you!

↳ part of my AU drabble game

Greek Life!All + brainstorming fundraiser ideas for the frat

#taehyung fanfic #bts fanfic #taehyung au #bts au #taehyung writing #bts writing #bts frat au #bts demigod au

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izayoichan · 4 years

Photo

Rylan takes Lobo with him, calling his dad, asking him to come pick him up and help him get some gifts, looking at Lobo with a smile.

“According to dad, your kind likes this way of travel, hopefully, he is right”

River, on the other hand, does like Rylan told him, and messages his mom while he waits for the train. She calls him, which means he gets around 15 minutes of his mom yelling at him over him sneaking out and disobeying her. Once she gets tired of yelling he finally speaks.

“Can I still spend Christmas with my boyfriend or am I grounded?”

There is a complaint on the other side followed by a fairly unhappy:

“Okay, you can” “Thanks... My train has arrived, I'll call you later.”

Hanging up his phone, he hurries so he catches the train, finding a seat by the window, waiting for it to take him where he wants to be.

“Okay, that's all of it.”

He smiles at his dad, the three off them vanishing and reappearing outside his home.

“Just need to wrap it all, come on Lobo, you'll have to be introduced to the house overlord.”

Chuckles, taking the large dog with him to introduce him to Felix, hoping the two off them will get along.

River sighs his train stopped in Windenburg due to their being reindeer on the tracks, stressing slightly as it means that he might not make it. Taking up his phone, quickly messaging Rylan.

“Train is delayed, stuck in Windenburg. But I'll be there in time for dinner, maybe? Do you guys celebrate Christmas eve or just Christmas day? I never get that.”

Rylan looks at the message, having an idea, messaging him quickly while at the same time walking to see if he can find the person who would need to agree to do it.

“I can ask if Hayle can pick you up if you want, travel by dragon flight? Oh and a bit of both, but mostly tonight with opening gifts and such..” “That would be awesome! Just try not to scare the train driver.”

Erased the part of the message where he complained about having already spent the rest of his savings on the train ticket before he sends the message, getting off the train quickly. Walking up to his dad, he notices Felix sitting there with him.

“Hey dad, could you do me a favor and pick up River in Windenburg? The train is stuck there, something about reindeer on the tracks.”

He notices Felix come walking, looking at Lobo, then ignoring Lobo

“Well.. that went decently.”

He lets Lobo off the leash so he can wander around the house getting to know it. Felix following him around as if making sure he doesn’t do anything bad.

“Oh, sure. He would just have to find somewhere a bit hidden, then I'll find him.” "Thanks, I don't quite want the reaper portal thing to be sprung on him just yet.”

Picks up his phone and messages him.

“My dad is on his way, just find somewhere a little hidden and he will be able to find you, sorry I didn't suggest it earlier, not quite used to my dad letting anyone but us on his back.”

“Okay, on the alleyway next to the station.” “He should be there in no time, so see you soon.“

Waves at his dad as he flies off, knowing he doesn’t really use much time when he has no passengers. River sits on a box waiting, playing games on his phone when he is suddenly interrupted by a police officer.

“Hey kid, what are doing back here?”

River looks at the man and gets up, cursing under his breath, this was really not what he needed right now.

“Huh... waiting for my friend." “Back here? What's in the bag."

He takes out the package and shows him, internally begging for Hayle to show up, knowing just how this normally ends. Hayle flying quite high above, finding River simply by his smell, noticing someone else there with him landing out of sight, and for the first time in more years than he can remember, changes into his fully human form.

“Ah, there you are River, sorry it took so in that last store, and they still did not have it...”

He smiles at River and the police officers.

“Perfect, I see you at least got your’s that's good.”

He looks at the police officer.

“Is there a problem?” " Mister Hayle?...”

He is at first surprised to see him without his horns, or scales then rushes to him past the police officer

“Sorry, just wondering what a child was doing alone in the alleyway. Good to see you have adult supervision, no need to take you to the station, I will, however, still want to see that package!”

Holds out his hand for the package

“Come on, it's wrapped! I had...”

starts becoming honestly distressed, as he looks for the receipt.

“See, I bought it today, it's a DnD set it's for boyfriend I” “I need to check it for drugs... “

Takes the package from his hands and rips the wrapping off then shakes the DnD box in front of them, almost as if mocking them. River looking on horrified, magical energy starts lifting up, becoming clearer he is going to zap the officer.

Hayle shakes his head, noticing the magical surge in River as the police officer keeps acting like a douche, putting a hand on Rivers's shoulder. His magic suddenly dissipating, Hayle's magic field nulling his.

“So let me get this right, you are accusing my son's boyfriend of having drugs in a D&D box... am I understanding this right? If I am, I would like your name, your badge number, and the name of your superior officer so I can make an official complaint about your behavior.”

Although his voice is calm, there is something about him, in general, that would make almost anyone's skin crawl slightly.

“So, I suggest you give that back, and walk away, or I can promise you this won't end well for you.”

The police officer flinches standing back, suddenly immensely frightened by the man in front of him. Quickly shoves the box back into River's hands.

“Sorry, sir! No need for that! It won't happen again!”

He walks away very quickly leaving the two behind, River just staring at the box and knees down picking the ruined wrapping and ribbon he had so much work making perfect his body starts trembling like he's about to cry. Hayle kneeling down putting an arm around him.

“Hey, it's okay, we can stop by somewhere and get new paper and a ribbon. I'm sorry I wasn't here faster, I thought people like him only existed in movies my husband has made me watch.”

River holds his breath and gets up, clearly holding back the tears.

“I-its okay... “

Puts the box inside the bag alongside the ruined ribbon and sighs

“I... I don't want to be a bother. I already made you take human form and... Calm my magic I don't want to bother further.” “You are not a bother River, and it's kinda nice to take the full human look on occasion.

Put’s his arm around River's shoulders.

“So, where do we get paper and ribbon, want to go to another town maybe, or should we mock the policeman by getting it here?

smiles gently at him, hoping to undo what that asshat has done. A part of him still wanting to scare the hell out of him before leaving, knowing his dragon form would do just that. He also knows what his husband would think off it if he did.

River looks up at him and smiles nodding.

“There must be some store nearby with wrapping paper. If no, I can always use a newspaper sheet. Won't look as fancy as the paper that that idiot ruined but... Or just a pretty Christmas bag, that can work too.” “Well come on, let's see what we can find, who knows, maybe we can find something randomly extra for my husband, to actually surprise him. He is horrible with gifts, he always finds them and manages to guess what is in them.”

Pulls River with him out into the street, looking around, noticing what he guesses is some sort of book store.

“Ah, there, they have to have stuff like that there.”

Vy sits close to the window looking outside to the snow, licking his lips in anticipation of the tasty treats to come.

“Ice in cakes? Is it good?” “Yeah, it's macaroon, small flat cakes, with icecream slices in the middle, you can try one if you want?”

Looks at Vy, letting his mind wander slightly, the many what if's that he keeps asking himself playing on his mind.

“Can I?”

He looks at the food that gets delivered as they talk, then picks one macaroon up and smells it with curiosity, finally takes a bite, taking in the taste, let's go of a small chirp.

“Tasty! I like it!”

Hayden chuckles, just watching Vy taste the cookies.

“It's fascinating how they can make them, warm cookies, cold ice cream. Now, you need to taste your cake. Oh and the coffee!”

Vy licks his fingers to get all the sugary goodness of the macaroon and nods

“Do you want to... oh... it's true, warm... They need to make a pistachio ice cream cake! That way the two of us can eat it because it's cold! Though, I like these macaroons”

Grabs his cake slice and coffee, and takes a bite of cake, chirps louder, making people look around for a bird. Covers mouth giggling.

“Sorry, just! gooood!”

Hayden chuckles as people turn their heads looking for a random bird in the cold. “Hmh... well you know they do make things if you ask. We should ask, so we can share someday. And I can eat cake, even if it's not cold, just not warm coffee.”

He smiles honestly just enjoying watching Vy be happy and enjoying the cake and for at least a short while, not worrying about the people around him. Vy smiling at him, actually glowing green as he takes a piece of cake and holds it out for Hayden.

“Try!” “ Wow... that is really sweet, but still good”

finding himself chewing on the many layers of taste from the cake, the frosting and everything surprising him along the way. Vy nodding eating a bit more and drinking the coffee

“It is very nice here. Cozy and nice! Thank you for bringing me here! How much is the cake?” “Ehm... I didn't really check, why? You want one more?” “We could take some for your parents and Rylan but I don't know if I have enough.” “Oh... how about we just buy a cake and share it after dinner? We could split the cost, or I can just pay for it?”

He notices Vy looking through his money, figuring he might not have enough money Vy looking up at him and nods happily.

“Yes! But... I only have... 5 simoleons...I need to make new trinkets to sell in caster's alley.” “Hmh.. how about we get a cake, you pay five simoleons I pay whatever is left, then it's from both of us right? I think they would love to have that as a surprise.”

“ Okay. I pay 5!” “Okay, I'll go order one, and we can finish our tasty treats while they pack it and make it ready? If you are okay to sit here for just a little while I order?”

He did notice how he shrank a bit when they entered, not wanting to just leave him there if he didn't feel safe.

🎶

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