#my father peels me oranges even if I can do it on my own when I am feeling tired.
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Having a favorite season never worked for me and I think I know why now. It's because I love something specific from all the seasons. I love the autumn and watching as the ladies that pick up after the leaves have chats and coffee and enjoy being out. I love growing older and starting school and being excited for the holidays. I love the winter; the cold air that somehow tastes fresher than any other kind. The warm clothing, the winter shopping, the hot tea I drink while reading a silly book. I love that it's so cold nobody wants to go outside and instead we gather at a home and watch movies that we hate. I love the spring. I love the flowers and the sun and my classmates complaining about how it's too hot while it's still cold. I love that nobody wants to come so when when there are alot of people in class it is special, I love playing while it's still windy and you can smell the food the neighbors are cooking and see the flowers they are planting. I love the summer. I love how it's too hot and water fights are all we have. I love that a bunch of people gather so we can go to the beach. I love my friends whining about mosquito bites. I love that I'm not on my phone much because of the sun. I love going out in silly summer dresses and returning home sweaty. I just love it all.
#times like these I love#why cant I just pause time?#my father peels me oranges even if I can do it on my own when I am feeling tired.
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Domestic Simon Riley? 👀 -🪴
[With you] [Simon 'Ghost' Riley domestic headcanons]
(Romantic Ghost x Reader)
Summary: Simon is your disconcerning boyfriend, to most people it seems as if he'd be incapable of gentle touches and affection, you know better though.
More info: You're apart of 141, no one knows you two are dating, you are younger than him and are shorter than him in this.
Warnings: usage of the word Girl once but it is more geared towards fem! (This is so fucking self indulgent im sorry) possibly ooc for Ghost (idc tbh) , do these even count as domestic? Idk ive never dated someone, nothing else that I know of but do let me know if there is anything that needs to be tagged!
Ghost is so painfully subtle in public with the way he treats you, he'll never outwardly do anything romantic but his actions and how he looks at you while he does it makes people pause.
In your own quarters or homes though, its different.
He's extremely attentive to you, your wants, your needs, your dislikes, he knows it all, he classifies it as important as missions. Simon didn't have a good father growing up, he didn't get to see what a good husband was supposed to be like, he's learning from the bottom up and he takes it seriously.
You'll never have to ask him to make breakfast, he's always up before you and has it cooked on the table with your drink.
Knows exactly when it's the time you wake up, and if he's able he'll go wake you up personally, brushing your hair out of your face and gently running his fingers through to detangle it from your sleeping.
Despite how cute you are sleeping in just his large hoodie, he won't let you sleep in, y'all got stuff to do.
He'll pick you up and bring you down to the table, pressing a kiss to your temple, if that doesn't wake you up (you usually will look up for a real kiss), he isn't afraid to grab your face in one hand and just, smoosh your face, he knows you hate it but it's gonna wake you up bc you're trying to slap his hand away.
He sits across from you, but reaches out one arm across the table with his palm facing up so you can grab it whenever, he likes it when you play with his hands.
Don't get me started on Simon and washing dishes, he always takes over washing duty and let's you dry ‘em. But every other time, he's gonna let his hands stay wet and will tell you to “think fast” and flick water over you (if you truly hate it, he'll stop though)
you know that saying of peeling oranges? He's the biggest proof that there is somewhere out there that will do it for you without question. Doesn't matter what it is, if you don't prefer driving, he has no complaints about driving you everywhere, if you don't like washing your hair? Just tell him what products and what order you use them in, just sit there and relax.
If you wear makeup and you're too tired to take it off yourself, he'll do it for you and it makes me emotional.
In your shared bathroom, he sets you on top the counter and uses one hand to gently grab your chin, taking the remover and firmly rubbing off your eyeshadow/eyeliner/blush/etc, afterwards he'll murmer a “that's my girl.” (He loves you with or without makeup, but he loves you for you, doesn't matter which you choose to do that day or any day)
He covers the corners of the meeting tables when you bend down to grab at the pen you dropped, it's just second nature for him to protect you from hurting yourself. He's yanked you from the street, picked you up just with one arm to make sure you don't walk into something gross on the street, gotten in front of strangers who try and get in your face for something. His body completely covers your own, and he always has weapons on his person, he isn't afraid to resort to maiming someone for you, you're his number one priority.
Simon loves having you sleep on top of him, he finds the weight a good reminder that you're there, you're not going anywhere if you do, he'll notice right away. If you get up to go to the kitchen, he'll sleepily follow you and just stare at you for an uncomfortable amount of time til you realize he's there. He'll make fun of you too “You should know ‘m right here, what kind of soldier isn't aware-” “Simon, I'm literally in just a bra and boxers right now.”
He demands your attention, this is one he'll do on bass in front of others bc technically he can get a with it. You're next to a recruit he doesn't like? Suddenly there's papers on a recent mission he needs your signature on, or he needs you for special 141 training reasons (he wants you to come with him to the dining hall, he's hungry and he doesn't want to go alone)
Dude stands right up against your back, in every scenario. His chest is probably an inch away from your back. He's playfully called your shadow by Price and the rest of the guys.
He grabs your hips alot, usually just to rest his hands there, occasionally rubbing small circles into the flesh, humming.
Simon will try and subtly leave as well if you leave the room, he gives it 10 minutes before he makes his way out to find wherever you wandered off too
Price finds it fucking hilarious, he'll look down at his watch and mentally countdown to when Simon makes his escape. Simon can fool most people but not John, the way Ghost will tap his foot and roll his shoulders are tell tale signs that he's had enough of being there.
He'll dance if you want him to, though he simply sways with you in his arms, if you're of a specific culture, he'll try his best to learn it but no promises, while he is fast learner and perfects everything he does, he's a big man, he's not that graceful.
Without thinking if he sees you're cold, he's stripping off his jacket to give it to you, he doesn't ask, he just moves behind you to drape it over your shoulders.
He'll take off his mask with you, and let you trace the scars that litter his face, let you trace his features too, he's fallen asleep to you doing it and he doesn't know how much you cried silently when he did.
Simon practices new jokes on you, to get your opinion of them until he can tell the others, the louder you groan the better the joke is in his eyes.
Soap asks why you don't even react anymore and you just sigh. You are tired.
When he's especially annoyed and done with the day, he just shoves his head into your shoulder, wrapping his arms around you in a death grip while he takes deep breaths, in the least weird possible, your scent and body so close to him helps him destress.
One thing he makes a huge point to do is to clean your guns for you, yes you should do it yourself but ever since y'all have gotten together, he's taken it upon himself.
He's scared, more scared than anything that something will go wrong when you're both not on the same mission, this is just a way he can ensure your gun will fire correctly and efficiently, that you can defend yourself when he isn't there.
Speaking of weapons, he gives you one of his personal knives for you to keep, he'll ask for it back only to sharpen it, everything has to stay in its best shape.
Likes when you drape yourself over him when he's sitting, alas he is just a man so he likes to feel your chest against his back.
Pulls you into his lap if you walk by, he'll let you get up if you truly want to but he'll position you to sit sideways and will rub your legs as he watches whatever is on the TV.
For anyone who has arthritis, Ghost will take the time to rub your ointments into your hands, he knows what weather makes then worse and keeps his own tube of it onhand so he's prepared.
He's always buying you things, he knows that it's not necessary but for him, it sees it as ‘if for some reason I fail at something else, at least I can provide this’ someone hug him he's fighting for his life.
Stocks up on every single essential you can ever need, your comfort food and snacks? Always on base and always at your flat, if you two are walking around the shoppes and he sees you eyeball anything, bet your ass he's going online to order it for you immediately, and when it shows up, he just shrugs. He doesn't see it as a big deal, it's just money. Which is very cute but also a ps5 is NOT cheap sir, you can't just-
#ghost <3#kayla writes <3#ghost x reader#simon ghost riley#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley x reader#ghost mw2#call of duty headcanons#cod headcanons#call of duty x reader#call of duty#kayla asks <3#fem reader
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Im gonna pump out some fan art of this OC I have in mind later, but for now, I’m gonna go a bit insane about Bi-Han’s mother. (Mind you this is is wholeheartedly not canon lol, my hyper fixations are just WOOOSH)
I think we can safely assume the Lin Kuei in MK1’s timeline are a little more progressive than their previous depictions. Yes, women can become members. But what of the girls born with crowns on their heads, and a legacy of nothing on their shoulders?
What if Bi-Han’s mother was a royal born who couldn’t participate in training even if she WANTED to?
What if she was purchased courted as a domestic servant for the Grandmaster? Because I can imagine that woman. a titan of ice and a scowl like fire. I imagine her, lonely, brutal, and dejected, with two children at her chest, asking what was she supposed to do with them?
“Love them.”
“And what will YOU do?” She spits at the Grandmaster. And he says he’ll rule. And she’s left wondering why the roles can’t be reversed. How is a child supposed to thrive when broken raises them?
Bi-Han is born first; He doesn’t make a sound, almost as if he can’t be bothered to.
She does feel a sparkling of something, but it could’ve been the blood loss. She has no idea this tiny thing will befriend the seed of a god one day.
Now, imagine your glaring son walks up to you one day, and says his father, your husband, got his shit ROCKED at the farmer’s market by a drunken, womanizing rancher.
The same rancher who vehemently opposed the Emperor when he demanded more grains from the South, for their pointless religious offerings. The same rancher who, apparently, found a child abandoned right in the middle of his peach orchard.
A child, a baby girl who radiates this bothersome, glowing warmth. A baby whom Bi-Han likes. A lot. “And you just found her in your orchard.”
“I know, it was bizzare. But we don’t have law inforcement in the south, and Jerrod, the bastard, won’t believe me either! I’m telling you, — she’s a God’s daughter. Was. She’s mine now, and I’m not giving her back, but it’s clear she’s no regular child!”
He’s a handsome man. Sharp lines curve his jaw, ans his hair is smooth, kissing his tanned shoulders. It’s almost hard to believe the Lin Kuei grandmaster forfeited under such a man.
She can understand why her husband would be infatuated.
“And you had her for how long?”
He peels oranges for her while Bi-Han chases the baby. Talia, her name is. Tai Ling never claimed to be particularly inventive, seeing as he never PLANNED for kids.
“A couple weeks! At first I thought I just drank too much, but, after she was still there for a few days, I realized I couldn’t really… Entertain my habits anymore.”
“You mean drinking and whoring?” She bored.
“Gah! At least I’m doing SOMETHING!” He argues with a twinkle in his eye, handing her the fruit. She takes it. Oftentimes, she’ll wonder how someone who has nothing is willing to give everything. “What do YOU do to be happy?”
She doesn’t have an answer for that.
“I had him for four years. I still don’t know what to do with him,” she confesses, watching Bi-Han run after Talia with all the drive a toddler can have. “Is it terrifying? To now know what they’ll become?”
To her surprise, he shakes his head. “I know what Talia will be. I’m not worried at all.”
She snorts. “Good for you,” still, his words bring a nameless and weightless comfort into her core. “…If you were me…What would you do?”
“If I had YOUR life? Probably sleep till I’m 100.” He laughs at his own jest, teeth smiling under the sun’s generous light. She never liked heat. But talking to him is almost worth the discomfort. “I think you’re doing great.”
“I don’t know what I’m doing.”
“But you’re trying your best, right?”
She nods once.
“Then that’s enough. It always is.”
A pause stagnates between them. “The man you fought at the market. He’s my husband.”
Tai Ling surprises her with a nod, “I know. “
“…Then why are you being kind with me?”
“A woman isn’t the men in her life. If we eat one spoiled apple, we don’t throw away the whole orchard.”
“…What?”
He laughs.
#IM OBSESSED WITH TAI LING MY BELOVED#also yeah bi Hans daddy is toxic old man yaoi for him but tai genuinely doesn’t know who he is after they fight lol#I just really wanted a character that’s a random little guy. tai ling is the Clark AND uncle iroh of MK#sindel and Jerrod are also big heart eyes for him#anyway BABY BI HAN#text#mortal Kombat#bi han#original character#ficlet#mk1
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bone-hurting juice
trying not to freak out & panic & become ridiculously miserable about it but my partner has not gotten any job offers (yet!!!) & i can't really focus on an area to apply for jobs in until we know where we're going, & it's gotten really bad here in some important ways, & my partner has been working on packing up our stuff & i am just like. panicky & useless, i really hate packing & i don't want to do it until we have some plan of where we're going or when we'll leave but it would definitely be worse to do it all in a desperate sprint.
anyway freaked out at some maintenance guys who just wanted to check our fire extinguisher yesterday & burst into tears today because i am Just Like My Father. so it's going gr8. anyway. a list
visited my old job yesterday so i could see my friend. it was nice to see her & i like having friends. tomorrow i am going to a coffee shop with a friend. hurrah. occasionally it feels plausible that i am a positive influence in other people's lives
currently wearing train shirt that i got at train museum. love trains & also it's a nice reminder of the fun trip i took to see my friend! & also be on a train! & also visit the west virginia mine wars museum! so you know lots of good things there
can't bake lately (too stupid) but have been making overnight oats & i candied some orange peel to put on top so now i have candied orange peel & also navel orange syrup
i have hatched schemes & plans at work, & while in many ways i wish i cared less about work this part is fun. current scheme is that i want to make a tabletop wind tunnel & run a paper airplane prototyping program. i think it'd be cool. fingers crossed that my manager agrees to this or i will be bullying my brother into building one with me, i am very excited about Wind Tunnel Idea
my mom retired! i'm so proud of her & so happy for her. she's hanging out with a friend in new york & texting me pictures of places we've been together <3 i told her to make a peevish comment about labor practices in the met fashion exhibit for me haha
stone fruit season my beloved. ripe apricots
have had 'take me home country roads' stuck in my head for like a week. usually this wouldn't be so good maybe but it's fun for me, i am just thinking about superman. the west virginia tourism board. the american rural imaginary, &c. plus it's catchy :)
i can kind of read again lately! read a romance novel, anyway, i love those, & i'm chipping away at 'digging our own graves'
anyway we will probably be fine even if our situation isn't what we hoped for. i love my partner & my friends. i love many things about my life. change is difficult and also i hope ron desantis gets eaten by an alligator on live tv
love & solidarity & i hope you have good things in your life too. good luck out there
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Turn of the Tide, Call of the Sea (5/?)
Description: Alyra reminisces on her time with her mother, Helaena reveals her abilities to Jacaerys, and they get married.
Alyra watched as Jacaerys entered the galley, looking well rested, with red marks peeking out from the collar of his shirt.
“Captain.” She called, waving him over.
Jacaerys sat across from her, two plates in his hands. “First Mate?” He said questioningly. She only called him captain when they were on land, or when they had guests. The crew knew they were family, so no one cared that they addressed each other by their first names.
“How fares our guest?” She asked, eyes picking out the love bites that decorated his skin. She was going to tease him mercilessly about that later, for sure.
There it was. To him Helaena wasn’t a guest, she was his wife, but Alyra didn’t know that yet. “Helaena, is still resting, I thought it would be best for her to eat then introduce her to the crew.”
“If she’s as marked up as you, I fear she’ll be quite embarrassed.” She took a bite out of the apple she was holding, as Jacaerys glanced down at his skin.
“Ah, well, I was more careful than she was.”
“That is good, I would hate for my future good-sister to suffer a bad first impression.”
The storm still raged outside, and they’d laid anchor to wait it out. Alyra contented herself with hiding herself down in the cargo hold, organizing Helaena’s possessions. The woman had many beautiful gowns and interesting books, she was eager to strike up a conversation with her.
“She will not. Now I must leave you and return to my bride.” Jacaerys said, standing and heading back towards his quarters.
Alyra took another bite of her apple, the juice exploding on her tongue. It was a rarity for them to have apples, but Helaena’s ship had them on board, so now they belonged to Vermax’s crew.
Alyra. Someone called her name, she jolted and looked around, but everyone else was busying with their own conversations. She shook her head and returned her plate to Benny, Vermax’s cook. He nodded at her, and she left, still clutching the apple.
Jacaerys carefully opened the door to his quarters and smiled when he saw Helaena up and about inspecting his room. “Lady of my heart, I have returned.”
Helaena turned and smiled back at him, taking one of the plates and setting it on the small round table he’d pushed against the wall. “Thank you, I am famished.”
They both sat, and she dug in, spreading jam on the thick slices of bread he’d procured for her.
“I can understand why, you were quite enthusiastic this morning.” He smirked, peeling an orange and holding a portion out to her.
Her delicate features flushed with a soft pink, and he resisted the urge to lavish her face with kisses, wanting to turn that pink into a raging red. “I did not hear any complaints at the time.”
He shook his head and took her hand in his. “You will never hear me complain of your desire for me.”
Helaena ducked her head. “I must admit, I echo your sentiments.”
His thumb caressed the skin of her hand as he poured water into her cup. “I must ask you, the nights when we do not meet, what do you dream of?”
She bit her lip and let out a shaky breath. “You will think I am a witch.”
A witch? If she could perform magic as Alyra could, he would be ecstatic. “I would never, even if you struck me down with a curse, I would still think of you as a goddess.”
Helaena remained silent, her bottom lip still trapped by her teeth. He reached forward and gently freed it with his thumb. “Helaena, believe me. I will not think badly of you, no matter what you reveal to me.”
“I have dreams, prophetic dreams. Sometimes they come to pass, other times they do not. I cannot control it, and there are times they come to me while I am awake.”
Jacaerys nodded. “My grandsire was rumored to have a similar ability. When my mother was born, he dreamt she would rule the seas with a man of strength beside her. Then years later she met my father, Harwin Strong. They rule the seas still to this day.”
All the fear and tension seemed to leave her body, and she raised her head. “I am relieved to hear that I am not the only one and that your family has some experience with these visions.”
“Even if they did not, Alyra is a healer, and she has been with us for many years now.”
Helaena cocked her head, the woman who pistol whipped her brother was a healer? “She studies medicine?”
“No, she is blessed by the gods, she can heal you with a touch of her hand.” Jacaerys lifted his shirt to show her a small scar. “I got stabbed three years ago and Alyra healed it. All that was left behind is this tiny mark.”
“That is…quite impressive.”
He dropped his shirt. “Alyra will be pleased to hear she is not the only one on the ship with abilities. She was already overjoyed to have another woman to talk to.”
Helaena nodded. “Then perhaps her and I should meet, sooner than later.”
“Of course, I planned to introduce you to the entire crew after breakfast.” He motioned for her to eat as he tucked into his own food.
Alyra stood on the deck underneath the overhanging of the helm, watching the storm. Lightning arched across the sky, and thunder rolled through the air. Waves crashed against the hull, and she stuck her hand out, letting the warm rain fall upon her hand. She remembered the way her mother would wander down to the shore whenever it rained. She would stand just inches from the tide, unmoving and unblinking, until her father would bring her back inside the house.
Alyra had joined her once, when she was ten and four, two years before the fire. She was sitting beside mother as she stared off into the distance.
“Alyra.” Her mother said, holding out her hand for her to take.
“Mother?” She took her mother’s hand and stood.
“Your father will never understand.” She said, turning to look at her, her golden eyes dim like wheat trampled underfoot.
“Understand what?” Her father was kind, and doted on his family, Alyra loved him very much.
“What we must do.” Her mother tightened her grip on her hand and began walking into the sea.
Alyra followed, confused but eager. She was an excellent swimmer, and the storm was not a heavy one.
Her mother kept walking, then bid her to swim after her once they could no longer stand. She swam deeper and deeper, Alyra following after her. They swam past the rocks that acted as a boundary, and her mother’s eyes seemed to glow in the low light.
Finally, she came to a stop.
“Wait here.” Her mother said, then she dove under the waves.
Alyra waited, treading water as she did. Moments passed, and her mother did not return. She began to worry and ducked her head underwater. The golden hair of her mother was nowhere to be seen. Panic filled her veins, and she dove as well.
It was quiet underwater. The storm was muffled, and whenever lighting flashed above her and half a moment later hundreds of tiny fish and organisms glowed as if returning its call. It was frightening and beautiful. She searched for her mother, staying near the surface as not to disturb the coral.
She resurfaced for air then dove back down, swimming further, eyes straining to see in the low light. A glowing vein of blue ran along the ocean floor, and she followed it. If it had caught her attention, it was certain to catch her mother’s.
She swam further and further until she spotted the source of the glow. A cave filled with glowing plants that swayed with the current. Coming up for air once more, she scanned the surface, she no sign of her mother.
Alyra, come, a voice sang.
Alyra ducked underwater once more and swam down towards the cave. She’d heard of creatures the rode upon storm waves and attempted to lure mortals to their death. She would hold her breath till the waves passed over her.
The cave was beautiful, and she grabbed onto the wall to keep from floating upwards. The feathery plants swayed towards her, and she was mesmerized by their beauty. Reaching out, she gently trailed her fingers along one. Its glow left and moved to her fingers, it tickled, and she stopped herself from laughing and letting air escape her.
The song was softer now, and she ventured further in, the plants brushing against her as she swam.
Alyra, our Alyra. The song grew louder, and she panicked, turning as fast as she could, pushing through the plants as she swam out of the cave, breaking through the surface of the water only to come face to face with her mother.
“Alyra? I thought I told you to wait?” She said, her eyebrows furrowed in concern.
“There was this voice, I tried to hide but—”
“Has your father been scaring you with tales again?” She clicked her tongue and shook her head. “He doesn’t know the sea as we do, don’t let him frighten you.”
Alyra glanced back at where the cave was. “Mother, there’s a cave—”
“We must return, the storm grows.” Her mother said, swimming back towards the shore. Alyra followed, ignoring the faint song she heard in her head.
“First Mate.” Jacaerys’ voice broke through her memories, and she shook her head to clear the cobwebs. It did her no good to dwell on the strange things her mother had done before her disappearance.
“Captain?”
“Meet Lady Helaena, my soon-to-be wife.” He stepped aside and Alyra’s gaze fell upon the silver haired girl. She was beautiful and possessed an otherworldly quality that her brother shared as well. Her violet eyes were wide and framed by thick lashes.
“Pleasure to meet you, Lady Helaena, welcome aboard the Vermax.”
Helaena gave her a soft smile. “Jacaerys says you are to marry us, I thank you.”
“Did he now?” Alyra said, staring pointedly at Jacaerys.
“You are the only other who knows the rites besides I, and I cannot perform our wedding rites.” His eyes were pleading, and she relented.
She’d wanted to officiate a wedding since her Aunt Rhaenyra had passed the words onto her. “I will do it, collect what is needed and meet me in the Great Cabin.”
Alyra lit the candles and laid out the dragonglass dagger and golden goblet.
“Stand across from one another, heads held high, this is an ancient tradition, one of power, and it must be given the respect it deserves.” She cautioned, picking up the dagger and handing it to Jacaerys.
The High Valyrian words flowed like water as she spoke.
Jacaerys cut his lip then Helaena’s gently, apologizing when she winced. He kissed her gently, then pulled back looking at Alyra who nodded. He cut his palm then Helaena’s clasping their hands together to mix their blood. They used the blood to draw traditional symbols on each other’s foreheads and once they’d both drank from the golden goblet, Alyra said the final words and lowered her hands.
“It is done, you are now one flesh, one heart, and one soul. Through fire and blood, you are bound for all eternity, never to be parted.” She said, smiling as Jacaerys wrapped his arms around Helaena and dipped her, kissing her with a passion she’d only seen him apply to his swordsmanship.
“Calm yourself, cousin, you have all of time to spend with your bride.” She reminded, scrunching her nose, that the display of affection.
Jacaerys broke the kiss and pulled Helaena up and into his embrace. “You’re right, besides, I should let our resident arcane wielders get acquainted.”
Tag list: @nyctophilic0vitnir, @svtansdaddyx, @fan-goddess
#helaena x jace#jacaerys x helaena#helaena x jacaerys#jacaerys velaryon#helaena targaryen#aemond x oc#pirate au#meg's writing#hotd fanfic#hotd#aemond targaryen fanfiction#aemond targaryen#this is the fastest H&J have gotten married in any of my fics so far XD#t&c series#aemond x alyra#alyra hawthorne
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[image description: a purple banner that has the words “work in progress” on it. end of description]
Appendicitis pre-Jercy fic, part 2
Content warnings for emergency rooms, child abuse/neglect, and food insecurity.
They're still holding onto each other when Thalia bursts through the doors with the energy of a hurricane. Clutched in one arm is a large toy wolf Percy recognizes from the room she keeps for Jason at her place— Lupa the Second, he remembers, named after the identical one she gave her brother when he turned two, which he was coerced into throwing out before he even hit middle school.
"Where is he?"
"Still in surgery." Piper peels herself away from the huddle and wraps an arm around Thalia's skinny shoulders, guiding her towards a chair. "Leo talked to a resident. He's doing well."
"They'll keep giving us updates when they can," Leo adds, his voice suspiciously strangled. He grabs one of the grocery bags, though he won't look Percy in the eyes. "Looks like Perce brought us sustenance."
"Lots of it," Percy agrees, carrying the other bag over. "I got coke, orange juice, water, chips, bananas, some hostess cakes—"
Thalia sobs, sharp and sudden, a sound Percy's never heard from her. He takes the seat next to her and puts a hand on her knee, Piper on her other side.
"I bought him a hostess cake for his first birthday," Thalia whispers, staring at the floor, her blue eyes welling up. "I couldn't afford real cake, but I wanted him to have something special. He was so happy. He kept pushing it towards me and saying 'share, share', no matter how many times I told him he could have the whole thing. It was one of his first words, after my name."
She clings to Lupa, her gaze fixed on something too far in the past for the rest of them to see.
"Why don't we save those for him, then?" Percy suggests softly. "They'll keep until the apocalypse, and I bet it'll make him smile when he wakes up and sees you with 'em."
In moments like this, Percy understands why his friends look at him in stunned silence when he jokes about Gabe. Happy just doesn't make sense, knowing why Jason learned 'share' so early— because Thalia, seven years old at the time, was desperately trying to keep herself and her baby brother from starving, and had gotten in the tragic habit of giving him half (or more) of everything she managed to scrounge up.
"Good. We're all in agreement that Thalia gets to visit first," Leo says roughly, keys jangling in his pocket as his leg moves in a likely unconscious tell of how scared he is. The anger is another, as he scans the room. "Seeing as his parents were at the game and aren't even fucking here."
"Speak of the devil," Percy growls. The doors whoosh open, and the sounds of arguing filter into the room.
"—told you he shouldn't play with a fever, Rex, I told you something would happen—"
"—not going to teach my son that he can just let his teammates down every time he feels a little queasy—"
Thalia straightens up, eerily silent.
Percy can feel the electricity building under her skin. The same ire is sparking at his own fingertips.
Piper inhales sharply. Leo smirks, vicious. I say let her at 'em, it seems to broadcast.
Percy looks at Piper. In unison, they nod at each other and sit back, giving Thalia plenty of room to explode into movement and charge across the lobby like an enraged bull.
"You made him play?" she bellows, much louder than anyone that tiny should be able to manage. At barely over five feet, she's dwarfed by her father, but her presence is at least twice that tall.
For a second, Rex is shocked into silence by his daughter's seething rage. Then he comes back to himself, scowling as he leans his substantial bulk and height forward.
"You have no say in how I raise my—"
Thalia ignores the painfully-obvious attempt to intimidate her. She wheels to face her stepmother like he isn't even there, her expression as punishing as a gale-force wind.
"And you didn't fucking stop him? What is wrong with you?"
"Thalia Renée—"
"Don't you dare," Thalia spits, her eyes so bright with anger they look like the blue flame of a welding torch. "You think you have any right to full-name me like— like I'm some spoiled kid, when you knew how sick Jason was and you let that man force him onto the field anyway? What were you thinking? He could have fucking died! He could still—"
Her voice breaks then, and her hand curls into a trembling fist.
"Thalia—"
Juno, for what reason Percy can't even begin to fathom, tries to put on the motherly act and reaches for her. Before he can get up and throw himself into the ring, Thalia recoils violently from her, backing away with Lupa hugged to her chest instead.
She steps on Percy's foot, startling at his presence. He ignores the slight pain and steadies her with a firm, supportive hand on her shoulder.
"If something happens to him on that table," she tells Juno, tearful and venomous, "it's your fault. Both of you."
She storms out then. Percy wants to follow her, but he lets her go— she hates breaking down in front of people, and she needs a minute to herself. Instead, he focuses on Jason's parents.
"She's right," he says plainly.
"Hope it was worth it," Leo adds, crossing his arms over his chest.
Total word count: ~2700
Ping list: @elaborateruses, @perseusjackson-jasongrace 💜
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Bad news, I think I got attached to the snails 😭
So I was doing research on them and realised that I was doing everything wrong!
- they need a constant food source available to them and with that a source of calcium (like cuttlefish bone) for their shell health and a weekly dose of protein (like dried mealworms)
- they need a dewormer to get rid of possible parasites because you can't check whether or not they have them so might as well
- they need a nicer enclosure with proper dirt because the current one is very tall and if they fall they might hurt their shells and die.
So as the great father I am I was ready to go to the pet store and get supplies until my brother staged an intervention. He basically said I was dumb, snails aren't proper pets, and since I don't earn my own money yet he gets to say no so yeah I can't get supplies for them.
And tbh idk what to do because I thought snails would be easy (turns out gullible was written on the ceiling after all) and low maintenance. I can't release them because they're invasive and I don't want them to eat my flowers, but if I keep them I'll essentially have to watch them die slowly. And if they will die, at least I'd rather make it comfortable for them. But it feels like nothing I do is enough because it's not perfect. This has taught me more about myself than I've realised.
When I first got Snelson I tried to accommodate and overcompensated to a harmful degree. I even fed him orange peels of all things! And ever since I've tried to research and mend my mistakes because it isn't good if it's not perfect. But I'm not in a position where perfect is achievable. It's very selfish of me I know, to take in something I can't take care of to the best of my ability. But I guess I'll have to learn to settle.
I was already so willing to plan for the next 15 years of sheltering them and giving them the best but if I'm honest I wasn't even going to do a fraction for myself. I don't live very healthily so how can I take care of something if I can't even take care of myself?
All this to say, unfortunately I give up trying. I don't think I can afford to do much other than survive at this point. I haven't even got a job yet. I need to sort myself out, THEN maybe I'll do better. I have to do good first.
Dammit I'm crying. My brother was right.
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Packless chapters 25 & 26
Click to see the rest of the snark & image descriptions
Chapter 25
“Where have you been, dad? It’s been six years! Why did you leave me with Driftwood and Darkness?”
The grooves around his mouth weren’t laugh lines. I saw that as he took a handkerchief from his pocket and dried my face. “They’ve been good to you?”
I thought of the way we’d parted, how Darkness had stayed away and Driftwood hadn’t given in, even when I called him dad. But they were moments compared to all the good years – and happy memories – before that. “Of course. But they’re not you.”
I mean, they were good.
Until they weren’t.
“This is a scent shield,” he said, pressing a small brown bottle into my hand. “Orange oil, with a little lavender and a bit of my own mixture. A few drops each morning, and it will mute your scent. It’s harmless, but after a week, not even an Alphason will be able to track you.”
Would you look at that. Essential oils are good for something after all.
My dad was coming, and that was the only claim I cared about.
Chapter 25 summary: Vail’s father actually is there. He tells her that as soon as her name popped up on the files, he came as fast as he could. He’s angry at the other doctor because he marked Vail as being a “void”, aka a wolf whose wolf never actually formed. He goes on to say that Vail isn’t a void or a dud, but that he can’t say much right now.
Another man comes in and says that the board has demanded that Vail be returned to the school right away. He tells Vail that there’s nothing that he can do for now, but that he’ll get things sorted out as fast as he can. Vail obviously doesn’t want him to go, because she thought that he’s been dead for the past six years.
She’s then redrugged, and when she wakes up, she’s in the back of a car. The driver says that he’s the security for Jasper’s family, and he expresses his sympathy over how Vail has been hurt.
Vail then peels back the bandage over her wrist, and is hurt to discover that they literally flayed her skin to remove her mating bond with Jasper.
Chapter 26
Or as still as a two-hundredpound wolf can, when he’s vibrating from ear tip to tail.
Chapter 26 summary: Jasper anxiously awaits Vail to be returned to him. LIke the narration isn’t even trying to pretend like it’s not fobbing Vail off like she’s a car that was stolen. And item, and not a person who has fucking feelings. When the car shows up, Jasper runs out to greet her.
The security officer warns that Vail is in an emotionally fragile place right now. He also explains about how the one doctor tortured Vail, but that a different one helped the officer to get Vail out. Jasper doesn’t seem to give a shit about any of those doctors, which… for once we’re in agreement. That shit is unacceptable, and if I could, I’d help him burn the lab to the ground.
He carries Vail into a sequestered… House? Staff housing? On the edge of the school’s campus, where he fusses over her. He then tells her that he has to leave for a bit, because his wolf is demanding to be let out. She agrees that he can do it right there, so he strips down and transforms.
His intent was to hide under the desk until he felt better, but the dude literally doesn’t have control over himself. He sniffs at her injured wrist, where his mark had been peeled off from her. But it makes him so sad, so he howls, which brings all of the nearby alphas running to see what’s up.
#packless#hunter moon academy#bookblr#readers of tumblr#book review#omegaverse#reverse harem#werewolves#supernatural romance#fantasy novel#romance novels
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Journal Entry 3- Namaste
Ugh, this is why I don’t drink anymore, I thought as I peeled myself out of bed, feeling like a human piñata after a night of indulgence. But there was no time to dwell on my questionable choices, I had a sunrise yoga class on the beach to attend.
Most people on vacation would opt for a lazy morning in bed, but not me. Oh no, I was a total masochist, running on fumes and pushing myself to the limit as I tried to conquer the world one business venture at a time. I had even at one point in the night woken in a night terror, scaring Melania shitless as she attempted to wake me from my apparent screams…This would result in being banished to the couch for the remainder of the trip..but could anyone really blame her? Early in our friendship, she had done the same to me. I didn’t even know she spoke Russian until that night when she woke me up shrieking in Russian. I thought she was possessed by the devil himself, so maybe this was a form of pay back. Apparently, lack of sleep and PTSD can turn anyone into a bit of a wild card. It makes me wonder, how many times do I wake up in my own bed screaming, with no one to wake me?
As I walked down the dirt path that would lead to the beach, it was finally getting light enough to see. There it was…the ocean. Gosh I want to bring Jack here, I thought to myself as I inched closer and closer to the sand.
Jack is my adorable, stud muffin of a child, who always kept me on my toes.
At only 8 years old, he had the spirit and attitude of a teenager and an unstoppable drive to succeed. He was already making waves as the youngest member of Team USA for karate, having won several amateur world titles. It was clear that he inherited his father’s talent, who was a 16-time world champion in kickboxing and a 7th-degree black belt. Jack had more talent in his pinky finger than most kids twice his age had in their entire bodies. As he grew older, our relationship evolved from “Mommy” to “Mom” to “Bruh,” but despite missing him, I knew that the break from him that weekend was well-earned.
Despite the chaos and sleep deprivation, yoga was my saving grace. It was like a reset button for my mind and body, helping me to stay centered and sane in the midst of a breakup, co-parenting with a narcissist, and juggling multiple businesses. So bring on the sunrise and the sweat, because I was ready to namaste my way to sanity.
As I started my practice, I closed my eyes and focused on my breath. The movements of the poses felt like a meditation, and I felt myself becoming more centered and grounded with each one. It was like all the stress and chaos of my life was melting away, if only for a little while.
As the sun began to rise, I opened my eyes and saw the most beautiful sunrise. The colors of the sky were a mixture of pink, yellow, and orange, and it was breathtaking. In that moment, I felt a sense of peace and contentment that I hadn’t felt in a long time. This had been a rough, frigid winter of let down, after let down.
The salty air filled my lungs and for the moment, I merely existed.
After the class, I went for a swim in the ocean and felt invigorated by the cool water. As I swam, I thought about how important it was to take care of myself, both mentally and physically. I had once been so focused on building my businesses and taking care of my son that I had neglected my own well-being. But now, I was making a conscious effort to prioritize myself and my own happiness.
As I walked back to my hotel room, I felt a sense of gratitude for this unplanned spontaneous vacation and the chance to recharge and refocus. I was grateful Melania had talked me into it, despite the ups and downs of the night before. I knew that the challenges of my life wouldn’t disappear overnight (like Phil would), but I also knew that I had the strength and resilience to face them head-on. And with yoga, the ocean, and a little bit of tequila (in moderation), I knew I could handle anything that came my way.
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The desert beyond the Red House, Dwelling place of The Druids, 2452 {2000 years before the culmination of the S’ruthan Civil War}
Miriz awoke too early. Three hours before sunrise. The other side of the bed was empty, Danail would be at the observatory until the sun broke over the horizon. He was the lead astronomer for the mission, and the mission was more important than anything.
Still, Miriz missed him. She strolled barefoot through the sandstone villa which sat among the other houses which clustered into the druid city at the foot of Mount Ai.
The roof was thatch, but wood was not a plentiful resource - stone and masons on the other hand, were. The house had one large central chamber which held the living area and kitchen, all arranged around the central sunken fire pit. The embers burned low. The flame of a lantern still illuminated the room.
“Mama?”
Miriz turned. Her son, Jakob was standing in the hall in his nightshirt. He was nine.
“Can’t sleep?” She asked her son, sitting down at the table in the kitchen and peeling an orange. The boy shook his head and perched up next to his mother. She handed him a segment and he bit into it.
“When will papa be home again?”
She looked at him with an understanding pang of sadness and stroked his hair.
“He won’t be away much longer now. A few more days.” She bit into the orange. “You know he has an important job to do?”
Jakob nodded. “Yes. It worries me.”
For his age, Jakob was already altogether too concerned, too anxious about everything. He was like his father. Miriz put down the orange and scooped him up, setting him down on her lap.
“Don’t be worried sweet thing, your papa will set it right. He’s the best at what he does.”
Jakob looked thoughtful.
“Where did Heartstone come from Mama?”
“The same place as the mountains and plants and rivers I suppose.”
Miriz’s son fixed her with a critical look. This was not a good enough answer. She sighed and wondered how to word it.
“You’re asking a scribe an astronomer’s question but I’ll do my best...The honest answer is we don’t know.”
“But can’t the seers see it?”
“That’s the problem, seers can see very far - some of the most skilled can see things millions of years forward in time and millions of years back.” Miriz had learned not to condescend to her son, he refused half answers.
“But many, many millions of years ago, the seers describe seeing something called the Bright Horizon. The Bright Horizon is a boundary that is so intense - so bright - that even the vision of reach is useless beyond it. The astronomers and the high druids think it might have been the formation of our galaxy. But they cannot explain it.”
Her son nodded, seeming to accept that. Miriz shrugged. “But I’m a scribe - what I’m good at is...communicating. I can see the movements and words of people, even very far away people, far better than things like galaxies.”
“Tell me about them.” Jakob prompted and Miriz smiled, resettling him more comfortably on her lap, resting her chin in his hair. She gazed into the embers of the fire for a long moment, and then began, with the tone of one unravelling a bedtime story;
“Well...thousands and thousands of years from now, when the stone your father is sending gets to where it’s going - I saw two women, outside a very big, strange house, in a place that was completely covered in bright green grass. Like the fields, but all over. One of them...well she’s a bit like your father, sometimes a bit too serious, but brilliantly clever. And the other, she’s a little like me.
They’re standing on the doorstep, and one is handing a piece of Heartstone to the other.
Inside the house, there’s a lady with freckles waking up after being asleep for days. Her daughter is there. And in the kitchen are other people, sort of like a family, cooking dinner.
They don’t quite know it yet, but they’ll be part of your father’s mission in their own way.”
Jakob leaned into his mother’s chest, almost asleep.
“What is she called? The lady who’s like you?” He murmured.
Miriz had to concentrate a moment, because until now she hadn’t formed a name to the face. She reached back into the vision. Less vivid now, but there it was. Miriz smiled.
“Molly. Her name is Molly.”
-
@annalis-e--shadowofpanem
@theshadowsnetwork
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The Forest of Lost Souls by Eric Fomley
The moon illuminates a small clearing in the forest. At the center is a table and two chairs crafted of human bones.
Published in our January 10, 2023 (Happy New Year!) newsletter. Full story is under the cut.
Link to sign up for the newsletter is in the blog description!
The moon illuminates a small clearing in the forest. At the center is a table and two chairs crafted of human bones. Rya steps from the gnarled trees and sucks in a breath of cool air. Weeks of journeying through the vast and ancient forest has led her to this moment. The chance to sit at the Death God’s table and try to get her parent’s souls back from the underworld.
She sets her pack and father’s sword in the grass. The bone chair creaks when she sits. She keeps her hands in her lap to keep from touching the armrests. She hasn’t sat in a proper chair in weeks and her legs ache for the reprieve.
After a moment the moon seems to dim. The trees around Rya appear denser, stretch higher into the night sky like an impenetrable wall, contorting. Some of the spirits that wander the forest appear between the branches and peer curiously at her.
Dust swirls. Not dust, ash. The sudden wind whips Rya’s hair into her face and the ashy cloud surrounds her and the table, growing in intensity until she can no longer see the moon, sky, or forest. Only the table and other chair.
There’s a cackle in the wind and the Death God forms from the ash. She looks like a corpse with hollow eye sockets. Tattered rags hang from her bones. Her grey, rotten flesh is shredded and peels from her arms and face, exposing tendons and the dull white beneath.
Her shriveled lips curl into a smile.
“You’ve journeyed a long way,” she rasps. “Few would brave the Forest of Souls. Fewer still the spirits of those that linger here. Tell me child, why have you come?”
Rya feels her heart thrum behind her eyes. Her mouth is dry and she runs her tongue over her cracked lips.
“I want my parents back. My mother passed away last spring. My dad a few weeks ago. It’s just me to take care of my sisters. I’m not strong like my parents were. Please, I need them back.”
Both of Rya’s sisters are far younger than her. She struggles with the way they look at her now. Like she’s supposed to know how to make everything better. To be the parent they no longer have. It was tough for Rya to leave them with a family friend to come here. But she’s desperate for the Death God’s help.
The Death God makes a noise like a low hum.
“You cannot reclaim what does not belong to the world of the living, child. What’s dead must remain dead.”
Rya’s guts twist. She chokes back her tears and sucks in another deep breath. She can’t lose control of herself. Not right now.
“My sisters. Without our parents, I don’t know what to do. They need a parent. Is there something, anything I might give to bring even one of them back to this world?”
The Death God shakes her head. “There is not.”
“Please. I would give my own life as barter.”
She frowns and stares at Rya for a long moment. A rotten hand disappears into her shredded garment. She produces a vial with a cork stopper. Inside, two orange lights dance like fireflies or tiny suns. She hands it to Rya who holds the vial close to her face and watches the dancing lights intermingle.
“Those are echoes of your parent’s souls. You can take them with you, if you like, the real souls have already passed on and echoes mean nothing to the world of the living now, but I feel as though you already have what you truly came for.”
Rya looks from the vial to the empty sockets of the Death God’s eyes. Shriveled lips curled into a patchwork smile of broken teeth. Like she’s just told the greatest of jokes. Tears streak Rya’s face.
“I need them alive,” She whispers.
“They are alive in your memories,” the Death God says. “You are braver than you let yourself believe, girl. Brave enough to plead for help from a god.”
Rya looks back to the swirling soul echoes.
“Don’t let your doubts get in the way of your bravery,” the god says.
The Death God dissolves, dripping away like poured sand until all that’s left is a pile of ash and her cackle on the wind.
Rya clutches the vial to her breast. The god is right. She just needs to be brave, no matter how much it scares her to be without her parents.
A weary smile cracks Rya’s face, for the first time since her parents passed. She stands from the table and retreats back through the forest to return to her sisters, eager to see them again.
Eric Fomley’s fiction has appeared in Clarkesworld, Daily Science Fiction, and Galaxy’s Edge Magazine.
Website | Twitter
#writing community#fiction#original fiction#flash fiction#literary newsletter#zine#Flash in a flash#fiaf archive#The Forest of Lost Souls#Eric Fomley#fantasy#writeblr
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my mother loves me.
my mother loves me as she croons at me while petting my hair, telling me it has gotten thinner at the edges. she plucks one of the grey ones off and tells me my age as if i had never known it, and i nod solemnly. she tells me i should dye it again soon. that i should stop putting dye in it because it will thin more. to cover it, so no one sees the grey. to let it breathe so it thickens again.
my mother loves me as she tells me she misses when i'd had long hair, when she'd braid it for me before we went somewhere. she says she misses playing with my tresses because to her it felt as though it was silk passing through her fingers as she lovingly brushed up and away from my face. my mother loves me as she tells me i cover my face too much now, that the shag i have cut with the scissors upon a sleepless night where i could've screamed at the top of my lungs or simply snipped at my locks has made it difficult for her to see my eyes. and she loves me when she tells me i am no longer as honest as i was when she could gaze into my eyes and wouldn't have to push my hair out of the way.
my grandmother loves me as she peels oranges for me. she uses an old knife; one we've had since before i was born. she's quick in her movements, and i love her back when i tell her to slow down as to not harm herself. an orange should not turn crimson, i joke, and she looks at me with eyes devoid of any mirth as she barely exhales through her nose.
i know my grandmother loves me! and so i know why she peels the oranges for me. she says i need something tasty, that i look as though i hadn't had anything delicious since a time long forgotten. i know she does it because she thinks far too much sinew has been within my teeth and has gathered in my stomach. i know it is because she thinks that, shall i reach for the food she'd prepared earlier, i'd scare her with how large i'd get. i'm a glutton in her eyes— and so, because she loves me, she peels the oranges quicker, so that i may eat them and not think of a pot or a pan again. but i don't eat the oranges. their taste turns sour in my mouth the second it reaches my tongue, because i know my grandmother loves me.
my father loves me when he shouts at the top of his lungs that i have taken up far too much of his time, that i have finally leeched my way back into the family and that i do not deserve to be there. as a child, i would scream back and close my eyes so he doesn't see the pearly tears that my eyelashes fail to catch. he'd then smile, vicious and unkind, and laugh. "you're a big girl now!" he'd say, though it felt more like a taunt when he'd lean down to my own measly height, "you can't just cry every chance you get!"
i know my father loves me, even as he screams, because he shares with me the scariest moments of his childhood. he sits down next to me, shows me what he's working on, and explains to me how the components of his current obsession come together to make a meaningful trinket. i know my father loves me when he points out the moon, or two deer we pass while we take a trip to see his mother.
my father's mother is a vile creature who claws at my heart each time i visit. "your mother," she starts, and i bite my tongue when she casts words of malice towards the woman who gave me my very own life. i see her for what she is and she knows it— she doesn't pretend with me, as she does with my sister, that she can talk about anything else but how much she despises my mother. how she sees me as a bastard child, because she thinks her son could never make a mistake so grave as to marry my mother.
and yet, when she calls me to say her leg hurts— an old injury from work, an unkind man's way of showing her that she's his, a javelin through the foot, her lies muddle together and i never question which origin of the pain is real— i realise that i love her. i realise that i will drive to her in the middle of the night, license or not, that i will bring her all the medicine i can because i know she cannot stand the presence of doctors. i love her so much.
i love my sister. often, her and i were left alone. i remember her first step. i remember when she first tried solid food. her first word had been my name, squeaked out in joy as she held the brittle twig i had fashioned into a doll for her. i remember when i first hurt her. i love her, because i had at that moment yelled at her to not touch the stove, yanked her harshly against the floor of the kitchen, and yelled at her some more.
i ask my sister if i am forgiven. she says i was seven then, that i am older now. she doesn't say that she forgives me, but she knows how old i was, and so she no doubt remembers what i had done to her. i tell her that i am sorry and that i love her, but my words ring hollow and leave a rift in my throat, because they do not sound genuine. it is not the last time i've hurt her. i love her.
my friends all worry for me. i do not leave my room often. they notice, when i do not answer their calls, their messages, their knocks on my door, that something is wrong. i love them. i say not a word of what it is that's made me feel so lonesome, because to love my friends is to let them live their lives separare to my own. when they meet me, they ask about it once. then twice. then three times. but they give up after that: i have not told them, not one of them, what it is that plagues me at night.
i love my friends, and so i keep them from the harm of my mind. they beg to get in, to help me ward off at least the pressure at the top. goading does not work on me. they switch fairly quickly, lauding my temperance and strength. they learn that i am fine, that i always get better. i keep them from knowing how empty my heart feels, because i love my friends, and though my heart is hollowed, it is done so because there must be space for them. there must always be space for them.
love burns me, from the inside out. from my ashes sprouts not a new me, not one who understands love. rather, from me rises a hollow, emaciated and shivering, and my tongue shortens as i bite it to keep from asking for the answer as to what love is.
#my writing#my words#original works#spilled thoughts#stories#writeblr#writers on tumblr#i suppose this is an#ode#to something. love perhaps#tw // depression#tw // food#tw // fatphobia#tw // mild gore#at the end there i think#idk im desensitised to it a bit
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The Husky and His White Cat Shizun - Chapter 19
Original Title: 二哈和他的白猫师尊
Genres: Drama, Romance, Tragedy, Xianxia, Yaoi
This translation is based on multiple MTLs and my own limited knowledge of Chinese characters. If I have made any egregious mistakes, please let me know.
Chapter Index
Chapter 19 - This Venerable One Will Tell You a Story
The girl was extremely pale, with an oval face and round eyes which were especially attractive. She was wearing a light pink skirt, her hair tied back. She looked like a young woman. She rubbed her eyes blankly in the dark, looking from side to side.
"Where am I. . .?"
Chu Wanning said: "You are in Return to Truth barrier I set up."
The girl was taken aback and said fearfully: "Who are you? Why is it so dark here? I can't see you, who's talking?"
Chu Wanning replied: "Did you forget?. . . You're already dead."
The girl's eyes widened: "I'm. . . I. . ."
Slowly, she remembered.
Lowering her head, she folded her hands across her chest. She murmured in a soft, unwavering voice: "I. . . I'm already dead. . ."
"Only souls can come to the Return to Truth barrier. Here, their hatred will be eliminated. No matter whether the dead person has transformed into a vicious ghost or an ordinary spirit, they will retain their original and personality appearance, known as their 'Return to Truth.'"
The girl was frozen for a while as if she was gradually remembering the past. Abruptly, she dropped her face and silently wept.
Chu Wanning said: "Have. . . you been wronged?"
The young girl sobbed: "Are you King Yan*? Or Bai Wuchang*? Are you here to avenge me?"
*(T/N: King Yan [阎王爷] is the one to judge the dead while Bai Wuchang [白无常] is one of the deities to escort spirits to the underworld)
Chu Wanning held his forehead and said: ". . . I'm not King Yan or Bai Wuchang."
The girl sobbed quietly. Chu Wanning was quiet for a while and didn't speak. He waited until her cries calmed down a bit and then said: "But I am here to help you air your grievances."
When the girl heard this, she choked and raised her gaze, and said with a mixture of joy and sorrow: "Then you really are Lord Yama*!"
*(T/N: Same person as King Yan)
". . ." Chu Wanning decided not to continue this topic with her and instead asked: "Do you know what you've done after you died?"
"I don't know. . . not really. I just remember that I was so, so sad. I wanted to get revenge. . . I wanted to go to them. . . I wanted to find him again. . ."
When the soul had just awakened, it would take a minute for all their memories to return to them, but it didn't matter. Chu Wanning patiently asked her: "Who did you want to go to?"
The girl whispered: "My husband, Chen Bohuan."
Chu Wanning was astonished. Chen Boyuan - wasn't that the name of the eldest son of the Chen family?
He asked: "What. . . what's your name? Where are you from?"
The power of Tianwen was infused with this illusionary barrier, and the dead who entered would almost always talk honestly with Chu Wanning. Therefore, the girl replied: "I'm a concubine, Luo Xianxian. I'm from Caidie Town."
"Before I came, I read the analects of Caidie Town. There are more than 500 households in this town, and there's no Luo family. Who is your father?"
The girl slowly remembered the details, her eyes filling with even more sadness: "My father used to be a scholar in the village. He was my father-in-law's brother-in-law's close friend. A few years, he contracted tuberculosis and passed away. Then I was the only one left from my family."
"Then why did you die?"
The young girl froze for a moment and then she sobbed: "I had no other option but to die. They, they lied to my father and stole the secret recipe for the butterfly fragrance powder. They beat me and scolded me, threatened me, and told me to leave Caidie Town. I. . . I'm a weak woman, where else could I go? I didn't have a single relative left in this world. . . The world is so big, where could I go? Apart from the Underworld, where else could I go? Where would there be room for me. . ."
After she recalled the events of her life, she seemed to have infinite bitterness and sorrow in her heart, She was desperate to talk to someone. Chu Wanning didn't even have to ask anything else, she slowly continued on her own.
It turned out that Luo Xianxian lost her mother when she was young. She heard from his father that she had an older brother, but her brother was separated from them in the chaos of the Lower Cultivation Realm, and they never saw him again so she didn't know whether he was dead or alive. When her elder brother was lost, Luo Xianxian wasn't even a year old, still in swaddling clothes. Later, she tried to remember her elder brother, but she still had no recollection of him.
There were only two people left in the Luo family were Xianxian and her father. The father and daughter depended on each other. They wandered around and finally built a small house in Caidie Town and lived there.
That year, Luo Xianxian was five years old. The Chen family's oldest son, Chen Bohuan, was two years older than her.
At that time, the Chen family hadn't made its fortune. Several members of the family lived in a two-bedroom earth-rammed hut. An orange tree was planted by the low wall of the small courtyard. In autumn, the tree was full of fruit and it grew over the low wall and snuck into the Luo family's yard.
Luo Xianxian tilted her head. The branches full of oranges looked like lanterns during the Lantern Festival. She was shy and introverted. She didn't play with others. She was always alone. She would dutifully be peeling some beans, raising her head from time to time and peeking at the orange tree peeking over from the Chen family's yard.
The oranges were temptingly yellow, and against the sunlight, you could almost taste the sweet and sour fullness of their juice.
Luo Xianxian looked eagerly, gulping and swallowing from time to time. Her cheeks were sore from the cravings.
But she never reached out to pick one. Her dad was a scholar who had been inferior to her father-in-law's brother-in-law. He failed the exam, but he didn't lose his backbone. His sour scholar brain was probably hurting but he always coached his daughter to be a "gentleman."
At the age of three, Luo XianXian knew that wealth couldn't be lusted after and poverty couldn't be changed. She never reached out to pick the oranges that were close at hand, even though she craved for them.
One night, Luo Xianxian sat in the courtyard humming and washing clothes by the moonlight.
Her father wasn't very strong, so he had to go to bed early. The poor man’s child had to take charge of the house. The little girl rolled up her sleeves, soaked her thin arms in the barrel, and rubbed her face earnestly.
Suddenly a hoarse cough came from the door, and a young man covered in blood staggered in and stared at her.
The little girl was so frightened that she even forgot to scream.
The young man's face was dirty and bloody, but his eyebrows were very handsome. The two people stood frozen staring at each other for a while. In the end, the young man couldn't stand up anymore. He sat down slowly against the base of the wall, panting, and said hoarsely: "Bring some water."
Xu was that kind of young man who didn't look like a bad person or perhaps Luo Xianxian was simply too kind-hearted. Although afraid, she still ran back to the house, made a cup of tea, and held it up to the young man's mouth.
The young man wasn't very polite. He threw back his drink, then wiped the corner of his mouth. Rolling his eyes back, he stared at Luo Xianxian's pretty face. His eyes glazed over and he didn't speak for a while.
He didn't speak, Luo Xianxian didn't either, she just blinked timidly. She held her hands at a distance she thought was safe enough and sized up the stranger.
". . . You look like an old friend of mine." The young man suddenly grinned, squinted his eyes and smiled eerily. With the bloodstains on his face, it was really quite terrifying. "Especially the eyes, they're so round. It looks like you could gouge them out, stick it in your fingers and swallow it in one bite."
When he said such horrible words so plainly, even with a little smile, Luo Xianxian trembled even more, and subconsciously covered her eyes.
The young man said: "Heh, clever girl. Just cover them up. Don't keep staring at me. I can't control my own hands."
He spoke casually with a northern accent.
Moonlight fell into the courtyard. The young man licked his chapped lips and suddenly saw the orange tree stretching into the yard. For some reason, his eyes lit up. His pupils flashed in the light, the lustre brightening for a moment before dimming back down. He raised his chin and motioned.
"Girl."
Luo Xianxian: ". . ."
"Pick an orange and peel it for me."
Luo Xianxian finally spoke up. Her voice was soft, slightly trembling, but she didn't hesitate to say: "Sir, that's not my family's fruit tree. It belongs to someone else. I can't pick one."
The young man was taken aback. She wasn't sure what went through his mind but his face slowly sank.
"I told you to pick one. I want to eat an orange. Pick it for me!" The last phrase was harsh like he spat it out through his teeth. Luo Xianxian shuddered, still stubbornly stood her ground.
The little girl was soft-natured, but her bones were the same as her stubborn father.
"I won't."
The young man's eyes narrowed. He raised his nose, his expression changing: "Do you know who you're talking to, brat?"
"If you want to have some water, I-I'll pour it for you. If you want to eat, there's some food inside, but the orange tree isn't mine. I can't pick it. Father said taking something without asking is stealing. I'm a gentleman. Wealth can't be lusted after and poverty can't be changed. You can't fish. . ."
In her rambling, she started talking about fish instead. The half-grown girl blushed. She insisted on what her father had taught herself and ended up completely fumbling her words, but under the young man's gaze, she was violently trembling, and her legs were weak.
The young man was speechless.
Hearing such a little kid, especially a young girl, say things as odd as "taking without asking is stealing", "wealth can't be lusted after and poverty can't be changed", and - and "I'm a gentleman"?? pfff, he normally wouldn't be able to stop himself from laughing out loud.
But he couldn't laugh.
On the contrary, there was a strong resentment in his chest and his heart was being crushed like it was being trampled by a horse.
"I hate your kind, so-called. . ." He supported himself on the wall, shakily rising to his feet, and hissed out: "Good man, gentleman, hero, benevolent."
Under Luo Xianxian's horrified gaze, he slowly moved his injured foot,
he moved over to the orange tree. He looked up, sniffed the smell of the orange tree almost greedily, and then a red gleam of rage flashed in his eyes. Before Luo Xianxian could react, he climbed the tree, shaking it, trampling, kicking, and hitting its branches.
All the oranges on the branch crackled and fell to the ground, rolling away. The young man's smile was twisted and he shouted wantonly: "Taking something without asking is stealing! Wealth can't be lusted after! The mighty never yield!"
"Sir! What are you doing! Stop! Dad! Dad!"
Luo Xianxian hadn't wanted to call for her father. Her father was a weak, powerless scholar so there wasn't much he could do. But she was a little girl after all, and she was so terrified that she finally broke down.
"What are you shouting about! Your dad can come out and I'll cut him down too!"
The little girl was scared silly. Small water droplets rimmed her round eyes, tears forming.
The Chen family next door went to a neighbouring village to visit relatives so the whole family was away. No one could stop this lunatic.
The little madman shook the oranges all over the ground and still wasn't satisfied. He stomped on the ground several times, crushing several oranges, growing ferocious. She didn't know where he found the strength, but he jumped over the wall and flipped into the Chen's yard. In the courtyard, he found an axe and chopped down the whole tree. Then he turned around and cackled.
He laughed and laughed then abruptly stopped. From his squat, he straightened himself, staring blankly in a daze.
Suddenly, he turned his head and waved to Luo Xianxian: "Girl, come here."
". . ." Luo Xianxian didn't move. She was frozen to the spot, the little cloth shoes embroidered with yellow flowers digging into the ground.
Seeing her hesitating, the young man calmed down his voice and said as sweetly as he could, "Come here. I have a treat for you."
"I. . . I don't. . . no, I don't want to go. . ." Luo Xianxian mumbled. Before she finished speaking, the young man suddenly grew irate again——
"If you don't come here, I'll go into your house and slice up your father!"
Luo Xian trembled harshly but finally took small steps towards him.
The young man squinted at her: "Hurry up, I'm not waiting all day."
Luo Xianxian lowered her head and moved towards him. When she was still a few steps away, he suddenly stretched out his hand and violently pulled her over. Luo Xianxian let out a scream, but it only reached the back of her throat before something was shoved into her mouth to gag her. The young man stuffed an orange into her mouth. It wasn't peeled or washed, but covered in the dirt and pushed into her mouth.
The young man tried to force her to eat it in one bite. The orange split open and was rotten inside. Half her face was covered in the rotten fruit, but the lunatic was still smiling. He crushed the fruit into her face, stuffing it into her mouth that she was desperately trying to keep closed.
"Aren't you a gentleman? I thought you didn't eat stolen food. So what are you eating now? Huh? What are you eating now!"
"Haaa. . . no. . . I don't want. . . dad. . .dad. . ."
"Swallow it." The young man narrowed his eyes and stuffed the last bit of fruit into Luo Xianxian's mouth. His pupils gleamed with an eerie light and he shuddered. "Swallow it!"
He watched Luo Xianxian forcibly swallow the orang. She muffledly choked out "Dad". The young man was silent for a while, then he suddenly smiled.
That smile was more terrifying than his hideous face.
He stroked Luo Xianxian's hair with satisfaction, squatting in front of her, and said softly: "What are you calling your dad for? Shouldn't you be called out to me? Isn't the orange I gave you sweet? Was it delicious?"
With that, he picked up another one off the ground.
This time, he didn't stuff it in her mouth. He carefully peeled off the orange peel and cleaned off all the white piths attached to it. Then he wiped his hands, broke off a piece, and brought it to Luo Xianxian's lips. He whispered: "If you like it, eat some more."
Luo Xianxian knew that she had encountered a madman today. She had no choice but to lower her head and silently ate the orange that the madman handed her. The sweet and sour juice melted down her throat and her stomach churned. . .
The young man squatted there, feeding her slices of oranges. He seemed to feel better and even started to gently hum a song.
His voice was rough, very hoarse, like a broken gust of wind, vague and inaudible. Luo Xianxian could only make out a few words.
"Three or four flowers fall into the pool, the bell chimes once or twice on the shore. The best thing is to be young, a light-footed horse, you can see the end of the world. . ."
He suddenly said: "Girl."
". . ."
"Tsk." He curled his lips and reached for Luo Xianxian's slender face, "Let me look at your eyes."
Luo Xianxian shivered. She was powerless to resist. She could only let the young man inch forward, his bloody finger coming closer and closer to her eyes.
"This is how it is," he said.
Luo Xianxian whimpered and closed his eyes. She was really afraid that this madman would, on a whim, poke out her eyes like they were fruit.
But the young man didn't poke them.
The other coldly said to her: "Didn't you teach me the saying that wealth couldn't be lusted after and poverty couldn't be changed? I've also got something to tell you."
"Hmm. . ."
"Open your eyes."
Luo Xianxian's eyes were tightly closed. The young girl laughed in exasperation and hissed: "Don't be like that. Open your eyes!"
". . . Do you think I won't be able to gouge your eyes out if you have them closed?!"
Luo Xianxian forced her round eyes open, her slender eyelashes trembling, and tears streaming down her face which looked pitiful and fearful. She wasn't sure how to make this stranger happy. He suddenly let go of her cheek, his hand lingering in the air, and then gently patted her head.
He gazed into her eyes, and a trembling smile shook from the corner of his mouth. His smile was distorted, ferocious, and just a bit miserable.
He said: "There are men in Linyi. Twenty of them are dead."
After he spoke, he turned around and his figure sank into the darkness and gradually disappeared.
Only the mess on the ground was the only evidence that such a person, covered in blood in the middle of the night, had been here.
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#2ha novel#2ha translation#2ha#chinese bl#chinese novel#english translation#bl novel#yaoi novel#yaoi#danmei novel#danmei#the husky and his white cat shizun translation#the husky and his white cat shizun
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Turn of the Tide, Call of the Sea (5/?)
Description: Alyra reminisces on her time with her mother, Helaena reveals her abilities to Jacaerys, and they get married.
Series masterlist
Alyra watched as Jacaerys entered the galley, looking well rested, with red marks peeking out from the collar of his shirt.
“Captain.” She called, waving him over.
Jacaerys sat across from her, two plates in his hands. “First Mate?” He said questioningly.
She only called him captain when they were on land, or when they had guests. The crew knew they were family, so no one cared that they addressed each other by their first names.
“How fares our guest?” She asked, eyes picking out the love bites that decorated his skin. She was going to tease him mercilessly about that later, for sure.
There it was. To him Helaena wasn’t a guest, she was his wife, but Alyra didn’t know that yet. “Helaena, is still resting, I thought it would be best for her to eat then introduce her to the crew.”
“If she’s as marked up as you, I fear she’ll be quite embarrassed.” She took a bite out of the apple she was holding, as Jacaerys glanced down at his skin.
“Ah, well, I was more careful than she was.”
“That’s good, I would hate for my future good-sister to suffer a bad first impression.”
The storm still raged outside, and they’d laid anchor to wait it out. Alyra contented herself with hiding down in the cargo hold, organizing Helaena’s possessions. The woman had many beautiful gowns and interesting books, she was eager to strike up a conversation with her.
“She will not. Now I must leave you and return to my bride.” Jacaerys said, standing and heading back towards his quarters.
Alyra took another bite of her apple, the juice exploding on her tongue. It was a rarity for them to have apples, but Helaena’s ship had them on board, so now they belonged to Vermax’s crew.
Alyra. Someone called her name, she jolted and looked around, but everyone else was busy with their own conversations. She shook her head and returned her plate to Benny, Vermax’s cook. He nodded at her, and she left, still clutching the apple.
Jacaerys carefully opened the door to his quarters and smiled when he saw Helaena up and about inspecting his room. “Lady of my heart, I have returned.”
Helaena turned and smiled back at him, taking one of the plates and setting it on the small round table he’d pushed against the wall. “Thank you, I am famished.”
They both sat, and she dug in, spreading jam on the thick slices of bread he’d procured for her.
“I can understand why, you were quite enthusiastic this morning.” He smirked, peeling an orange and holding a portion out to her.
Her delicate features flushed with a soft pink, and he resisted the urge to lavish her face with kisses, wanting to turn that pink into a raging red. “I did not hear any complaints at the time.”
He shook his head and took her hand in his. “You will never hear me complain of your desire for me.”
Helaena ducked her head. “I must admit, I echo your sentiments.”
His thumb caressed the skin of her hand as he poured water into her cup. “I must ask you, the nights when we don’t meet, what do you dream of?”
She bit her lip and let out a shaky breath. “You will think I am a witch.”
A witch? If she could perform magic as Alyra could, he would be ecstatic. “I would never, even if you struck me down with a curse, I would still think of you as a goddess.”
Helaena remained silent; her bottom lip still trapped by her teeth.
He reached forward and gently freed it with his thumb. “Helaena, believe me. I will not think badly of you, no matter what you reveal to me.”
“I have dreams, prophetic dreams. Sometimes they come to pass, other times they do not. I cannot control it, and there are times they come to me while I am awake.”
Jacaerys nodded. “My grandsire was rumored to have a similar ability. When my mother was born, he dreamt she would rule the seas with a man of strength beside her. Then years later she met my father, Harwin Strong. They rule the seas still to this day.”
All the fear and tension seemed to leave her body, and she raised her head. “I am relieved to hear that I am not the only one, and that your family has some experience with these visions.”
“Even if they did not, Alyra is a healer, and she’s been with us for many years now.”
Helaena cocked her head, the woman who pistol whipped her brother was a healer? “She studies medicine?”
“No, she’s blessed by the gods, she can heal you with a touch of her hand.” Jacaerys lifted his shirt to show her a small scar. “I got stabbed three years ago and Alyra healed it. All that was left behind is this tiny mark.”
“That is…quite impressive.”
He dropped his shirt. “Alyra will be pleased to hear she’s not the only one on the ship with magic. She was already overjoyed to simply have another woman to talk to.”
Helaena nodded. “Then perhaps her and I should meet, sooner rather than later.”
“Of course, I planned to introduce you to the entire crew after breakfast.” He motioned for her to eat as he tucked into his own food.
Alyra stood on the deck underneath the overhanging of the helm, watching the storm. Lightning arched across the sky, and thunder rolled through the air. Waves crashed against the hull, and she stuck her hand out, letting the warm rain fall upon her hand.
She remembered the way her mother would wander down to the shore whenever it rained. She would stand just inches from the tide, unmoving and unblinking, until her father would bring her back inside the house.
Alyra had joined her once, when she was ten and four, two years before the fire. She was sitting beside mother as she stared off into the distance.
“Alyra.” Her mother said, holding out her hand for her to take.
“Mother?” She took her mother’s hand and stood.
“Your father will never understand.” She said, turning to look at her, her golden eyes dim like wheat trampled underfoot.
“Understand what?” Her father was kind, and doted on his family, Alyra loved him very much.
“What we must do.” Her mother tightened her grip on her hand and began walking into the sea.
Alyra followed, confused but eager. She was an excellent swimmer, and the storm was not a heavy one.
Her mother kept walking, then bid her to swim after her once they could no longer stand. She swam deeper and deeper, Alyra following after her. They swam past the rocks that acted as a boundary, and her mother’s eyes seemed to glow in the low light.
Finally, she came to a stop.
“Wait here.” Her mother said, then she dove under the waves.
Alyra waited, treading water as she did. Moments passed, and her mother did not return. She began to worry and ducked her head underwater. The golden hair of her mother was nowhere to be seen. Panic filled her veins, and she dove as well.
It was quiet underwater. The storm was muffled, and whenever lightning flashed above her, half a moment later hundreds of tiny fish and organisms glowed as if returning its call. It was beautiful and frightening. She searched for her mother, staying near the surface as not to disturb the coral.
She resurfaced for air then dove back down, swimming further, eyes straining to see in the low light. A glowing vein of blue ran along the ocean floor, and she followed it. If it had caught her attention, it was certain to catch her mother’s.
She swam further and further until she spotted the source of the glow. A cave filled with glowing plants that swayed with the current. Coming up for air once more, she scanned the surface, no sign of her mother.
Alyra, come, a voice sang.
Alyra ducked underwater once more and swam down towards the cave. She’d heard of creatures that rode upon storm waves and attempted to lure mortals to their death. She would hold her breath till the waves passed over her.
The cave was beautiful, and she grabbed onto the wall to keep from floating upwards. The feathery plants swayed towards her, and she was mesmerized by their beauty. Reaching out, she gently trailed her fingers along one. Its glow left and moved to her fingers, it tickled, and she stopped herself from laughing and letting air escape her.
The song was softer now, and she ventured further in, the plants brushing against her as she swam.
Alyra, our Alyra. The song grew louder, and she panicked, turning as fast as she could, pushing through the plants as she swam out of the cave, breaking through the surface of the water only to come face to face with her mother.
“Alyra? I thought I told you to wait?” She said, her eyebrows furrowed in concern.
“There was this voice, I tried to hide but—”
“Has your father been scaring you with tales again?” She clicked her tongue and shook her head. “He doesn’t know the sea as we do, don’t let him frighten you.”
Alyra glanced back at where the cave was. “Mother, there’s a cave—”
“We must return, the storm grows.” Her mother said, swimming back towards the shore. Alyra followed, ignoring the faint song she heard in her head.
“First Mate.” Jacaerys’ voice broke through her memories, and she shook her head to clear the cobwebs. It did her no good to dwell on the strange things her mother had done before her disappearance.
“Captain?”
“Meet Lady Helaena, my soon-to-be wife.” He stepped aside and Alyra’s gaze fell upon the silver-haired girl. She was beautiful and possessed an otherworldly quality that her brother shared as well. Her violet eyes were wide and framed by thick lashes.
“Pleasure to meet you, Lady Helaena, welcome aboard the Vermax.”
Helaena gave her a soft smile. “Jacaerys says you are to marry us, I thank you.”
“Did he now?” Alyra said, staring pointedly at Jacaerys.
“You are the only other who knows the rites besides I, and I cannot perform our wedding rites.” His eyes were pleading, and she relented.
She’d wanted to officiate a wedding since her Aunt Rhaenyra had passed the words onto her. “I will do it, collect what is needed and meet me in the Great Cabin.”
Alyra lit the candles and laid out the dragonglass dagger and golden goblet.
“Stand across from one another, heads held high, this is an ancient tradition, one of power, and it must be given the respect it deserves.” She cautioned, picking up the dagger and handing it to Jacaerys.
The High Valyrian words flowed like water as she spoke.
Jacaerys cut his lip then Helaena’s gently, apologizing when she winced. He kissed her gently, then pulled back looking at Alyra who nodded. He cut his palm then Helaena’s clasping their hands together to mix their blood.
They used the blood to draw traditional symbols on each other’s foreheads and once they’d both drank from the golden goblet, Alyra said the final words and lowered her hands.
“It is done, you are now one flesh, one heart, and one soul. Through fire and blood, you are bound for all eternity, never to be parted.” She said, smiling as Jacaerys wrapped his arms around Helaena and dipped her, kissing her with a passion she’d only seen him apply to his swordsmanship.
“Calm yourself, cousin, you have all of time to spend with your bride.” She reminded him, scrunching her nose, at the display of affection.
Jacaerys broke the kiss and pulled Helaena up and into his embrace. “You’re right, besides, I should let our resident arcane wielders get acquainted.”
Again not putting the tag list since these are going out one after the other XD
#jacaerys x helaena#helaena x jacaerys#helaena x jace#jacaerys velaryon#helaena targaryen#pirate au#t&c series#redoing t&c#meg's writing#hotd fanfics#hotd au#alyra hawthorne
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The Hoodie by LemonLuvGirl87
**Written for @mrspeetamellark based off the prompt:
“I’ve been wearing my boyfriend’s hoodie around the house for the last week. I tried to give it back last night.
“That’s not my hoodie.” Realized with horror I’ve been wearing our builder’s hoodie. In front of our builder.”
~
The house remodel lasted longer than my relationship.
I inherited the house after my mother passed away. The summer after my senior year of college I took a break before enrolling into graduate school after my mother fell ill. That illness turned out to be stage 4 cancer, inoperable.
She was gone before Prim and I could even process the diagnosis.
Honesty I was surprised she held on as long as she did. My mother had always been half present, mentally and emotionally, ever since our father died 14 years ago.
One thing she did have the presence of mind to do years before she ever fell ill was to get a really great life insurance policy. She had obviously learned from dad’s mistakes.
So, at 25 I found myself a homeowner. Although it wasn’t much of a home. Our ancestral dwelling had been considered a fixer-upper back when my parents initially bought it. Almost 30 years ago. After my father’s death we never really got around to fixing the place up.
It was Gale’s idea for me to use part of the life insurance money we got from mom’s death to remodel the house.
Gale was around a lot after I moved back home. He helped with the funeral arrangements, the paperwork for filing the life insurance claim, he helped me with Prim. It took both of us to convince her not to change her plans to go back to school after mom died and finish her medical degree. But we did it.
Somewhere along the way our friendship shifted from platonic to not so platonic and before I knew it we were taking on the idea of remodeling the house to make it ours.
It should have been a happy ever after to my sad hallmark movie life.
Girl moves back home due to tragic circumstances, reconnects with long lost best friend, cue the mood music and relationship montage. Then the picturesque ending with them settling into their new home and new life together.
Except my reality didn’t include a Nicholas Sparks ending to a tragic story. Not at all.
The first problem was that I had inherited the fixer-upper from hell. We went through 3, no seriously 3 contractors in the first 6 months. Every time we’d get one thing fixed we’d find another problem. Which meant more time, more money, and more STRESS for Gale and I.
Somewhere around the nine month mark, just like a pregnancy coming to term, Gale and I’s relationship issues that we had both been trying out best to ignore came to a head.
“Look Gale, I’m sorry things didn’t work out. But I’m just not ready to get married right now.”
“The thing is Katniss, I am. I’m more than ready. But if you aren’t, there’s nothing I can do about it.”
“Maybe we should take some time off.”
“That would probably be a good idea. I’ll stay at my mom’s house tonight and come back to pick up my stuff in the morning.”
“Okay. Um, do you want your hoodie back?” I ask in a small voice.
I didn’t really want to give it back. It was soft and warm and smelled deliciously male. I had been wearing it all week in an effort to remind myself about some of the things I liked about Gale. Like the way his hoodie smelled.
Comforting and slightly sweet with hints of wild herbs and cinnamon.
Gale gives me a strange look when I unenthusiastically peel the oversized orange hoodie over my head and offer it back to him.
“That’s not my hoodie.” Gale tells me.
“Of course it's yours. I grabbed it from the coat closet a week ago. I’ve been wearing it since then.” I tell him, hugging the maligned hoodie against my chest as if to shield it from Gale’s denial. Then I sniff it again lightly for good measure.
It still smells wonderful.
“Wow, Catnip. I can honestly say now that I’m surprised we lasted this long. I mean, you don’t even know your own boyfriend’s clothes from the contractor’s.” Gale says with a slightly amused snort.
“WHAT?” I squeak, my voice reaching several octaves higher than my usual range,
At the comical expression on my face Gale begins to belly laugh. Loudly. He almost doubles over from his own hysterics.
I am silent in my humiliation. But I don’t let go of the damned hoodie. Instead I hug it closer to me, my last defense against the glaring truth that I am a shitty girlfriend.
“Katniss, I’ll always love you. But let’s promise each other to never try to be more than friends ever again ok?” Gale says after he recovers.
I nod numbly at him as I watch him go to the coat closet and pull out his black leather jacket. The one he always wears, and has worn for years.
My cheeks are tinged pink with embarrassment.
“See you, gorgeous.” Gale says finally before offering me a sad little wave and leaving out the front door.
I offer him a half hearted wave in return.
I hear the sound of his pick up start, and drive away. That’d when it hits me that that’s it, we’re over. Our relationship hadn’t even survived longer than the remodel.
Just as I feel a wave of tears coming on I hear a loud clatter coming from the hall.
“Shit!” I hear a familiar voice curse quietly.
If I was embarrassed before, now I am officially humiliated beyond all reason.
“PEETA? What are you still doing here?!” I demand when I find our blond, good natured contractor struggling to pick up a vase he dropped on the floor.
“Um….its Friday….so I was supposed to give you this week’s invoice and take your payment...but then I heard you both arguing and decided to wait a bit...and yeah…” He trails off, looking sheepish and slightly embarrassed.
So, he heard everything. The argument, the break up, and then that incredibly shameful exchange about the hoodie.
Crap.
THE HOODIE.
I still had his hoodie.
I looked down at the offending garment in question, and then back up into his handsome face.
And then promptly burst into tears.
“Here! Take it!” I sob as I shove the hoodie at him.
“What? No, no. Katniss, you don’t have to give it back. Honestly, keep it.” He says as he offers it back to me, a gentle expression in his eyes.
Great. Now the cute builder feels sorry for me. I think to myself with a mounting sense of self loathing.
“No, it's yours. And I took it by mistake. I’m so sorry! Here let me just go get my check book and then you can be on your way.” I tell him, grabbing a hold of my wild emotions and shoving them down deep as I can.
I march back to the living room, grab my purse, and dig around for my checkbook despite my watery vision. I finally find it and lean over on the coffee table to write out the check.
I sniffle a few times, but ultimately get it done. When I turn around I find Peeta waiting with that same abashed expression on his face. I had always thought he had a nice face. Almost too beautiful for a man in his line of work, what with the manual labor and all.
“Here,” I tell him, thrusting the check out to him and looking over his shoulder so that I don’t have to see the look of pity in his gorgeous blue eyes.
“Thanks.” He mutters, as his hand reaches out and grasps the check before folding it in half and tucking it into his back pocket.
“Yeah. No problem. See you Monday?” I say the last word with a cringe worthy amount of uncertainty. I didn’t know if he’d ever want to come back here. This house was a death trap. His client was a nutcase who stole his clothes. The pay wasn’t all that great either.
I wouldn’t blame him if he high-tailed it out and lost my contact information. The other contractors had run for the hills after putting up with much less.
“Katniss. Pardon my intrusiveness, but is there someone you’d like me to call for you? A friend or relative?”
I snorted at his concern.
“I’ll be fine. I’m not the first girl to get dumped on a Friday night. And I’m sure I won’t be the last. Go home Peeta, to your wife or girlfriend or whoever and forget about your pathetic client.” I tell him with a roll of my eyes.
The bravado feels good coming out. I’ve always done better with masking my feelings than giving into them.
“I don’t have anyone to go home to.” He says as he runs his large calloused hand through his messy blond waves. He gives me another sheepish smile.
“I got dumped this past Tuesday, so I guess it’s my turn to officially welcome you to the club” He adds, and now his cheeks are blooming with color as I stare at him open-mouthed.
“Who in their right mind would ever break up with you?” I finally ask, flabbergasted.
Peeta’s been our builder for months now. He’s a catch, by no stretch of the term. He was not only fit as a damn thoroughbred, he was a genuinely good guy. Polite to a fault, easy-going, and considerate. Most of all he was genuinely sweet and kind.
I forgo all subtlety with my remark and his intensely blue eyes zero in on me.
“I could ask you the same question, except I’ve seen the idiot who let go. And sorry if it's too soon to say this, but good riddance.” He tells me with a slight edge to his voice and I couldn’t be more surprised if someone had slapped me.
“We’re better off as friends. I don’t know what we were thinking, trying to be a couple.” I mutter, turning away from his intense gaze.
“At least you ended things pretty amicably.” He offers the comment in consolation.
“I guess. Oh, I’m sorry you said you got dumped too! That really sucks.” I tell him looking back up again.
“I don’t know. I’m starting to think maybe I’m better off. There’s no point in investing yourself in a relationship that has no spark, no real connection.” He says in a curious tone as his gaze slides away from me after lingering a beat too long.
I gulp.
“Yeah.” I agree, thinking about how things had been almost too comfortable with Gale. We had all the spark of a couple who had been married for 50 years, even at the beginning of our relationship. Funny how I never realized that.
Peeta smiled back at me, in that gentle way of his, and I felt a warmth stir inside my chest.
“Would you maybe want to order a pizza and um, hang out for a while in recently dumped solidarity?” I blurt the words out before I can stop myself. I watch his mouth go slack in reaction to my forwardness, and in the next moment I wish for the ground to open and swallow me up.
“I mean, not that you have to. You probably have plans! I shouldn’t have asked you that--” I backtrack furiously, and I babble.
He places one large warm hand over mine to stop my ranting.
“Hey, hey. Katniss. I would really like that.” He says and I feel myself relax.
“Ok.” I tell him, a small smile peeking out, despite the evening’s vastly dismal events.
“Ok.” He agrees, and we move to the kitchen to find some take out menus.
~
Six Months Later
“Katniss, have you seen my orange hoodie?” Peeta calls from the master bedroom that he finished remodeling single handedly one month ago.
“Have you checked the coat closet?” I call back, with a smirk.
It had been five months since we started dating, and three weeks since we’d moved in together. This time around there was no question whether there was a true connection or spark between either of us. After Peeta had diligently fixed up every room in the house we’d celebrated by making unrestricted and unabashed love on every available surface.
“Yes! I already checked there!” He calls back, voice growing more annoyed as I heard him double checking the hamper and swearing to himself.
I lower my head and snuggle deeper into the collar of the hoodie in question, inhaling its owner’s scrumptious scent.
“Well, check again!” I call out with a wicked grin, knowing that he’ll have to pass by the kitchen to get to the coat closet by the door. Last night he had finally broken down and admitted why he never corrected me 6 months ago when I walked around for a whole week wearing his jacket even though I was dating someone else.
He had had a crush on me from the moment he laid eyes on me, and when I took to wearing his hoodie, the crush had deepened into something more serious.
He said he had this recurring fantasy of walking in one morning to get started on the remodeling work, only to find me sitting in the kitchen wearing his orange sweater with a cheeky grin on my face, and my bare legs propped up on the table, just waiting for him.
So now, I’m in position, and eagerly anticipating his entrance, knowing that when he finds me wearing his favorite orange hoodie (and nothing else) we’ll finally get the chance to turn his fantasy into a reality.
It’s funny how little things can bring two people together.
*unbetaed and written in two hours so sorry about typos*
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Part 1 Here! / Part 2 Here! / Part 3 Here! / Part 4 Here! / Part 5 Here! / Part 6 Here! / Part 7 Here! / Part 8 Here! / Part 9 Here! / Part 10 Here! / Part 11 Here! / Part 12 Here! / Part 13 Here! / Part 14 Here! / Part 15 Here! / Part 16 Here! / Part 17 Here! / Part 18 Here! < This is Part 19!>
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Song Here- (X)
Big thanks to @imdoingathingmom and @bbibbisan for doing a sensitivity read!
* This could be worse, you remind yourself as you feed your deer
* Much, much worse
* “How much am I supposed to give them?” The tall, ebony colored man says from beside you, his bright red eyes seem to glow under the pale moonlight
* “Um.. for that one, you can feed it as much kale as you want, but be careful James, he’s kinda insatiable. He’ll eat your clothes if you give him the chance”
* James nods, tearing the kale in careful ribbons.
* He smiles when the deer eats right out of his palm.
* You’re not going to lie, you were 100% surprised when the blond turned out to be Laurent and the black guy was James
* You were even more surprised when he asked if he could help you feed your animals
* You watch him smile as he gives the deer a gentle pat, feeding it more kale
* Yeah, you’re having a hard time believing the teddy bear in front of you is some psychopath tracker
* The story went that while you and Edward were out, the coven decided to play some baseball up in the mountains, and the sound caught their attention as they were passing through
* Apparently this was a fast friends situation, because Carlisle and Laurent have been reminiscing about their geezer pre-colonialism days
* You look to the house, you can see Edward’s inside from the window, his eyes meet yours and he gives you a small smile
* Well that seems hopeful
* “I used to take animals before I turned” James’s deep voice calls you back to the situation at hand
* “Oh were you a farm hand?” You’re peeling an orange, which Henrietta the third is already licking at impatiently
* “Um, not quite, I was a slave”
* You stop peeling the orange
* James tells you his story- he was a third generation slave, fathered from the master, his mother passed away shortly after his birth
* “I was lucky- in a sense, the master -my father- he was a superstitious man, and my mother- she had a reputation”
* His mother was a slave in name only, was what he told you. She was more of a mistress or a concubine.
* “At least that’s what they said, Though I’m not sure how much of that is true, I’m fairly certain she didn’t enjoy being with him. She was just trying to survive”
* His mother had been ostracized, even amongst others like them, but not because of her social position in the household
* “They thought she was a witch,” he admitted. “Bad things happened to people who wronged her, and good things happened to those who helped her”
* That sounds like Alec and Jane
* “When she was on her death bed, she laid a “curse” on the owner of the plantation, that if I wasn’t taken care of she would haunt him and bring misfortune on the entire family for several generations”
* And so, James became the unfavorable third son of the Pickett family.
* “I had many opportunities from her sacrifice, I learned to read and write, but I was more or less shunned from the house- both by my family and by the other slaves”
* It was lonely, almost painful.
* “But there was one thing, a ray of light-“ his eyes flit towards the window, and you follow his gaze to the red haired woman in the green chair
* “Victoria, she was my eldest brothers fiancé”
* The youngest daughter of the wealthiest man in town, from the outside she was a blossoming socialite
* The most beautiful girl in town
* But behind closed doors...
* Victoria was the product of an affair, a mistresses child, reluctantly brought into the household when her mother passed
* “She had big dreams, she loved to read, she yearned to study, to educate herself, to use her mind”
* And so, two lost souls found each other
* “Our family would never have allowed it. So we decided to run away together” he smiles, but it’s bitter.
* They claimed he had abducted her, perhaps to save face, and sent slave catchers to find them.
* “I’m not quite sure what happened-I remember being shot and telling Victoria to go in without me- all I ever wanted was for her to be happy.”
* This is heartbreaking
* “When I woke up, Laurent was there, and my throat burned”
* So Laurent had been with them for all that time, he was their creator
* “Afterwards the three of us worked in ‘the underground railroad’ helping slaves to the north where they could be free”
* “I’m thankful to him, for saving us, we wouldn’t have been able to be in a world where we could be together if it weren’t for him-“
* “But you wonder what the trade off is” you finish and he nods
* No longer human
* Purpose only lasts so long in this life, after all human life only has meaning because you know one day it will end
* “I found a penchant for tracking, it turns out what they said about my mother might have held some truth”
* James calls it “extreme luck”, there’s no other word for his gift.
* If he’s looking for something - or someone- it’ll inevitably find him through pure luck. Like the world bends to his will
* But it only works with finding things
* “These days we work as bounty hunters, and we only feed from people beyond redemption”
* Murder and rapists it sounds like
* “I didn’t know there was another way”
* “That’s understandable, I didn’t know either until I met Carlisle” he looks at you with kind eyes, and so with a deep breath you tell him your story
* About the Volturi, your parents, Alec and Jane-
* “I think you would like them, they’re a little off putting at first, but they warm up pretty fast”
* “Like cats” he says
* “Like cats” you agree
* You tell him about meeting Carlisle, how he saved you,
* how Eleazer gave you a home and a family,
* and about Edward, who gave you a chance to live
* Not just to survive, but to truly live
* “We’re not so different you and I” James says with a smile, and you mirror his expression
* “No we aren’t”
* Though of course you wouldn’t compare the relatively privileged life you had to his
* But the loneliness you both experienced is not all that different
* The tie that binds you all
* And then you do something you’ve never done before
* “You know, I don’t belong to this coven, not really” it’s the first time you’ve admitted it to anyone
* “Oh?”
* “My coven is in Denali, they have a permanent settlement there, and they follow the er... same alternative lifestyle”
* He laughs
* “I’m sure they would love two or three more, we’ve got like thirteen spare rooms in that house”
* You still remember the antiquated scooby Doo mansion-esque hallways filled with armor and swords
* He looks at you for a long time, but it doesn’t make you uncomfortable
* “I won’t follow another leader”
* You nod, that’s understandable.
* Laurent created them, and it seems he’s happy with their current lifestyle, they won’t betray him
* “Not unless it’s you”
* ........
* What?!?!
* “M-me?” You sputter, your orange peel filled hand clutching your chest
* “Why would you want to follow me? I’m only nineteen years old- I don’t even have a high school degree yet!”
* He laughs at your panicked expression
* “You know that doesn’t matter to our kind,” his eyes twinkle as he looks at you.
* “Call it witchcraft if you like, but you’re going to accomplish great things, I can feel it deep in my bones”
* Garrett had said the same thing, but the way James says it-
* You really believe it.
* He doesn’t want anything from you you, not a kiss or a date-
* He just wants to be your friend, to be apart of your vision
* Whatever it may be
* “Here’s my card-“
* He holds out his business card to you, unlike Garett’s it’s a cheap cardboard white with his profession and number on the front
* “If you ever find yourself in need of someone to help with your animals, let me know”
* You nod, taking his card in your hands
* “Um there’s one more thing I could use your help with-“
* He points to the large window, right at Alice
* “I know that girl but she doesn’t seem to know me.”
* “Well how does that work”
* He tells you how many years ago, a woman was looking for her sister.
* “It was a bit of a Cinderella story”
* The woman’s father had remarried quickly after his wife’s death, and the step mother had sent his children away. The younger sibling, his client, was lucky and was sent to a relative.
* But the older, who had suspected something amiss had happened to her mother, was sent to a mental asylum
* “You know me, I find things, it’s my gift.”
* But when he found the girl, she was no longer human. Already turned.
* “I tried to approach her, but she didn’t seem to remember anything”
* “Alice doesn’t have any of her memories from before she turned, she woke up in the woods all alone”
* The only thing guiding her were her visions.
* James nods solemnly
* “Should I...should I tell her?”
* You look to Alice.
* She’s smiling at something Victoria said.
* How many nights has she spent wondering who she really was, feeling so happy she had a family and a partner, but wondering if she left someone behind
* How would she feel when she found out?
* “I think you should tell her.”
* If it was you, even if it hurt, you would want to know
* James nods
* “Okay”
* You walk inside together, and immediately look to Edward
* Your own personal vampire lie detector
* “He did lie about one thing-“ Edward tells you once James pulls Alice aside.
* Was he actually tracking Alice to hunt her?
* Your heart drops at the thought
* “His mother didn’t die from natural causes, she committed suicide because she knew it would secure his future” Edward tells you with a somber expression.
* “He just didn’t want you to feel bad”
* You smile and nod.
* What a strong person, you can’t even imagine
* Edward pulls you into his arms, placing a soft kiss in your hair
* You feel bitter sweet about the whole thing
* Especially as you watch them leave in the morning, right before you’re going to head off to school
* Jasper is holding Alice who seems vulnerable, but relieved
* They’re leaving so soon, you didn’t even get a chance to get to talk to Victoria or Laurent
* You watch James stand next to Victoria, they’re talking to Carlisle.
* They’re not even touching, but you can feel the intimacy radiate off of them
* You wonder if maybe you and Edward might get to be that close one day
* James meets your gaze and smiles
* “I’ll see you around sometime leader!” He calls out, earning confused looks from your coven and his
* You smile back and give him a nod
* You’re still not sure what your future holds
* But you know you wouldn’t have gotten this far if it weren’t for the kindness of others
* You want to make them proud
* And then in a gust of wind, he’s gone
* They all are
* “See, I didn’t commit murder or anything, I told you things were different” Edward says with a teasing smile
* You roll your eyes and lightly shove him while he just laughs
* He’s right though, that was different
* “Enough flirting kids, you’re going to be late for school, and I really don’t want to deal with that dick in the front office acting all high and mighty because they think I can’t control my children” Esme yells
* School?
* Oh sh*t you didn’t do your homework
* “Edward-“
* “I’ll drive and tell you the answers on the way there” he says catching the keys you toss to him
* “It’s the-“
* “The Trig homework, I know. It’s your worst subject”
* Well you do struggle with trig quite a bit
* “Though to be fair you’re pretty terrible at all of them”
* He barks laughing when you shove him before getting into the car through the passenger side
* Carlisle and Esme watch you from the doorstep
* “They’re so good together-“ Esme starts
* “I know, I never thought our Edward would look at anyone like that”
* Carlisle and Esme exchange a look
* Before you came around-
* Well it wasn’t bad, but he certainly didn’t look like that.
* And he never smiled like that either
* Immortality had hardened him, made him into a man
* But with you-
* Well, with you he looks just like a boy
* A boy in love for the first time
* “I wonder what kind of children they might have had” Esme wonders with a small grin
* Him, with his ability to read minds, and you with that positively monstrous power of yours
* Any number of possibilities is possible
* “Best not to think of such things” Carlisle murmurs
* Though you two may be together for eternity, with the endless options, you’ll never have that.
* Esme nods
* “I’m late to get to the hospital, surgery this morning” he mumbles kissing her on the cheek before walking to the car
* She watches him go, his sleek white Volvo disappearing down the road before looking up to the sky
* “What a shame, I would have liked a cute grandchild or two running around” she mumbles to herself before turning to go inside
* “Entertaining always leaves me exhausted, guess I’ll give my employees the day off”
Tags: @moonlights27 @thebluetint @the100thtwilight @awesomebooklover17 @oneofthepotterheads @smileygirl08 @imdoingathingmom @iconicgguk @yrawn @alyciaswhore @little-horror-show @wicked-watering-can @lazydreamers @ xxxmuxxx @ideas-for-you-to-adopt @poisoinedhope @maryleigh8796 @moose-squirrel-asstiel @hotmessgoodness @jaimewho @corabmarie @what-am-i-doing10 @alluring-venus @imdoingathingmom @anotheryooniverse @im-tired-not-sleepy @emmettcullenisahimbo @my-super-musical-life @smolvampiregirl @it-was-all-a-beautiful-dream @mihikaahujaaa @werewolflover3252 @teenagezombiekryptonite @shynz @reclusive-chicken-nugget @monkeyluver4546 @wonhomarshmallow @bwbatta
#twilight imagine#twilight headcanon#twilight reader insert#twilight fanfiction#twilight saga#twilight#edward cullen imagine#edward cullen x reader#edward cullen headcanon#edward cullen fanfiction#midnight sun#superhero-imagines
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