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television-overload · 3 months

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The Walls That Tell Our Stories

Post-ep for 21x02 "The Stories We Leave Behind"

What I think we all want to imagine happened after the doors closed on that elevator at the end of the episode.

Word Count: 1,365

Read on AO3

No sooner had the elevator doors opened, than a fiery ball of energy came slamming into his legs.

"Daddy! Daddy!" the little girl yelled, grabbing onto his hand and pulling. "Take a picture of me with the orange wall!" She yanked him forward, already showing signs of that strength she and her mother both shared.

Tony laughed, casting a glance at McGee.

"Sorry, she's heard a lot about these orange walls," he explained, fishing his cell phone out of his coat pocket and dutifully opening the camera app.

He knelt down, holding the phone up so she was in frame.

"Alright, Tali, say, 'NCIS!'" he said, and Tali repeated it, finishing with a big toothy smile and a wild pose she must have learned from her friends at school.

Once he'd taken a couple photos, he clicked the image gallery to check them, holding the phone out to show Tali.

"How's that?" he asked, waiting for her approval.

"Perfect!" she answered. "Now one at your desk!"

Before he could stop her, she darted off to the part of the bullpen he had called home for so many years. It looked a little different now, various personal items stashed on the desks and even some plants making it feel more homey, but it was still the same place.

"Honey, that's not my desk anymore, it's Uncle Tim's," he reminded her. It hadn't been his in a long time, and it was crazy to think of all that had changed since then.

A pouty lip came out, and McGee chuckled. There was a lot of Ziva in her, that was true, but when it came to her personality, she was just so Tony.

"It's okay," he said, giving Tali the go-ahead to sit in his chair. “That was your dad's desk long before it was mine.”

She ran around the edge of it, plopping unceremoniously into the swivel chair and looking around interestedly at everything.

“Dad, did they have computers back when you worked here?”

Tony felt her words like a blow to the chest, and he feigned having the wind knocked out of him. How old did she think he was? He could practically feel the gray hairs sprouting from his head.

“Do you want me to take your picture or not?” he asked, shaking his head, hiding his amusement behind squinted eyes.

She smiled for the camera, then did a few poses pretending she was working.

"How many kids do you know who's number one bucket list item is to visit the headquarters of a government agency?" DiNozzo joked as he snapped a couple more photos.

Tali had been begging them for years, but it had never been a good time. They’d needed some space to learn how to be a family when Ziva finally came home. And though they wished it had been under better circumstances, at least now they could show their daughter all the places she'd heard about in their stories.

McGee smirked, watching the energetic daughter of his two best friends as she clacked away at his keyboard.

"I'd expect nothing less from your kid, Tony."

After a moment, Tali looked up, an inquisitive look on her face.

"Which one was Ima's?" she asked, spinning her chair back and forth.

He knelt down in front of her, resting his arms on the edge of the desk, his chin atop his folded hands.

"Which one do you think made it easiest to stare at her all day with heart eyes, Tali-girl?"

She giggled, pausing so she could inspect her options, taking the task very seriously. She tapped her chin in thought.

"That one!" she said, brightening up and pointing to the desk directly across from his.

He grinned, thinking back to all the times he'd sat there thinking about her mother.

"Bingo!"

"Can I–?"

"Have a picture over there?" he finished, already knowing what she was going to say. "Ask Agent Knight if it's okay."

Jessica Knight was standing near the elevator with Palmer, and it didn't take long for Tali to get her permission. She ran back the short distance, looking triumphant in her return.

"Hey, where is your Ima anyway?" Tony asked as she sat down behind the desk.

"Here!" her familiar voice sounded, echoing in the largely empty bullpen. The door to the women's restroom closed behind her. "Your child is pushing on my bladder. I swear I cannot make it more than an hour without having to pee, these days."

As she approached, Tony tucked her under his arm, glancing around at the walls that held so many of their stories. This was the building that built them. Tali owed her existence to these ugly orange walls and the people that dwelled in them.

"Our daughter has been playing tourist and hitting all the great photo spots," Tony informed her, brows raised sarcastically.

Ziva turned to look at Tali, seated where she used to sit now more than a decade ago.

"I see that," she said, her lips pulled back in a smile. "Did you tell her about the time we were stuck in the elevator?"

Tony grinned. "Oh yeah, she liked that one."

"Ima, when can we go see the lab?" Tali asked eagerly, interrupting them.

Ziva looked up and saw Jimmy approaching, and she knew there wasn't time right now. She separated herself from Tony, gently tousling Tali's wavy hair. "Another time, baby, I think it's time to head over to the funeral."

Tali nodded, glancing down at her shoes.

"I'm gonna miss Grandducky," she said sadly, playing absentmindedly with an eraser she found on the desk.

"So will we," Tony said, swallowing back emotion. "Aren't you glad he came to visit us during his book tour last year? That was pretty special, huh?"

The littlest DiNozzo nodded again, cheeks widening in a smile. "He was the first to know about my baby brother!" she said, remembering it fondly.

At that, Jimmy looked to Tony and Ziva in mock indignation. "Hey, you told him before any of the rest of us?" he said.

Tony laughed, patting the autopsy gremlin on the shoulder in consolation. "He guessed pretty quick. I think if he'd visited a few weeks earlier, he would have been the one to break the news to us!"

Ducky’s globetrotting semi-retirement had been a blessing to them all. They cherished the few times they'd been able to meet up in recent years, remaining close despite the long distance. He was a part of their family; it was only right that their daughter know him and love him too. They were fortunate for the time they did have together.

Ziva glanced at the clock and sighed, placing a hand on Tony's chest, silently telling him they probably needed to get going. He nodded in response, checking that he had his phone and wallet still before taking her hand in his.

"Alright, well, we can keep sharing memories on the way. Tali? You ready to go?"

"We'll be back, right?"

"Of course," Tony answered. "We've barely scratched the surface here! I still have to take you to interrogation to figure out what happened to that batch of cookies Ima made last week ." He tickled her sides, causing her to erupt in giggles and run ahead of them toward the elevator. They followed, hand in hand, with Jimmy and McGee right behind.

"Squeeze in!" Palmer said, the entire group filling the elevator with little room to spare. The others would be meeting them at the cathedral for the service, everyone who knew and loved Ducky, there to say their final goodbyes.

As the doors closed, Tony leaned down and pressed his lips to Ziva's, his hand resting on her lower back to pull her closer.

"Ugh, guys, really?" McGee complained exaggeratedly, screwing up his face in a look of disgust. Tali put her hands in front of her mouth to hide her giggles.

Ziva looked up at Tony like he was the only other person in the elevator, and he beamed proudly, unashamed and unapologetic.

He squeezed her sides playfully, tucking his face into her shoulder and breathing her in.

"I've always wanted to do that in here."

-.-.-

Tag List (if you want to be tagged when I post Tiva stuff, let me know and I'll add you!): @benedettabeby @earanemith @happygirl-0408 @hopeless-nostalgiac @indestinatus @loudlooks @mrsmungus @nicolem194 @putthekettleon @slippery-soapbox @tivafanfic @tivajunkie @tonysziva

Gonna go out on a limb and also tag @wanna-be-bold @pro-bee @delicatefalice @harmandmac @benditlikepress @irish-trish idk who else I've seen active lately but yeah

#i really wanted to work in other characters but i spent too much time on this as it is #ncis #tiva #ziva david #tony dinozzo #my fanfiction #tony x ziva #tiva fanfiction #ncis fanfiction #tali dinozzo #ncis spoilers #21x02 #the stories we leave behind #if you got tagged in this twice im sorry tumblr is acting up

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thefangirlfever · 3 months

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DBF! Miguel O'hara x reader (part 2)

Summary: You are finally back in your hometown and get to meet your father's friend, Miguel O'hara.

Tags: fluff, angst, slow burn, F/M, age gap, taboo relationship, mention of death and grief, reader is a woman of color

Notes: English is not my first language.

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« I tried to tell your uncle I was fine, but you know him… He immediately panicked and never left me alone after that ! »

« You broke your leg, dad... », you reply in a soft voice to him. Well, his body has changed but his wit is definitely the same and it even seems like his tongue has grown sharper. He doesn’t stop complaining to you about his cast, the hospital and how frustrating it feels to be stuck at home all day, unable to do what he actually likes… and you patiently listen to him. It’s comforting to think that he has enough energy inside him to rant about such things.

But all the while he keeps talking, your eyes never leave the other man. Miguel. You remember your dad telling you about a friend he met at his hiking club and the more you think about this, the more intrigued you get. You’re trying to be subtle about your looks as you glance at him from time to time. His large body looks squeezed inside the small flowery armchair he is sitting in. He almost looks awkward sitting there, out of place as if someone tried to squeeze him inside a doll’s house. His wide shoulders slouch down a bit and he almost looks sorry to be there, as if he was trying to make himself disappear into these plush pillows on top of the chair. There’s something almost funny about a man of this size acting this way ; with his hangdog look. You almost chuckle at the sight and you can’t hold back a smile. His eyes flash in your direction after watching your father for a long time, deep chestnut eyes with a hint of crimson inside them. It’s a very unlikely shade that just increases the intensity of his gaze by a tenfold. You find yourself unable to hold his gaze and looks back at your father. But even if your eyes are not focused on him, your thoughts bring you back to the man sitting across you. Did he find you impolite for staring ?

Your father seems to realize something and changes the topic of the conversation as abruptly as he did before :

« At least, there are a few good things coming out of this. You’re finally back home and you got to meet Miguel. Remember him ? I told you about him already. »

You’re not sure what to think about these two things. This place you’re inside of, is it really your home ? You don’t remember the wallpaper being this bland and the sofa looks too big now. Too empty. Maybe it’s the rain outside that makes you feel this way, as if everything was blended into different shades of gray and sepia. Everything except him, the man sitting in front of you, with his deep brown eyes, sun-kissed skin and the bright red of his corduroy shirt. You don’t know what to think about him for now. After your father mentioned him, he slowly sits up straighter. One of his hands rest on top of the armchair and to avoid his inquisitive look, your eyes drift down to this hand. A few black hair run down his arm to his knuckles and a delicate watch girds his wrist. No wedding ring in sight.

« Yes… I remember. Miguel from the hiking club ? My father talked a lot about you.», you finally stutter and your father doesn’t seem to notice your embarrassment. Is the man in front of you feeling it ? It doesn’t seem like because he replies :

« He talks a lot about you too. I was looking forward to meet you. » A subtle heat reaches the back of your ears and you don’t know if it comes from the fact that your father has been talking about you, or the sudden attention from this stranger. A witty comment would have usually left your lips and you wondered if somehow you lived up to his expectations.

“Oh...really?”

An awkward silence fills the space between the two of you, broken by your father again. It seems like he can’t stop talking as if he had kept all these words inside of him, waiting for you to let them come out. That’s how you learned that Miguel was not only found of hiking but also a doctor. The last one in town apparently. If not for the lack of health Service in the region, he would have already retired but he decided to stay. That was admirable of him but the way your father told you about his devotion to the city made you feel awkward. It sounded like a reproach for your own departure. You squirmed uncomfortably on your seat. Surprisingly, Miguel saved you by asking a new question:

“Your father told me you were working for a publishing house?”

You were glad for the change of topic and you slowly nodded your head, finally daring to look back at him. Under thick brows, his eyes were carefully studying your every motion, how you squirmed on the chair, crossed your legs or played with the hem of your sweater, anxiously pulling on a small thread. You could imagine what his patients would feel under his scrutinizing gaze and you found yourself looking at his hands again while searching for your words.

“I do. I am proofreading most manuscripts we get.”

It’s been almost ten years since you left your hometown for college. You still remember the day your parents dropped you at your dorm, their arms full of your boxes. And the way you cried like a baby the night after their departure even if you tried to play it cool in front of them. That’s how your life in the city began, by crying.

Since you weren’t saying anything else, your father told Miguel with a contrite tone in his voice that was unfortunately too familiar:

“Y/N studied English literature in college. She could have been a teacher, you know.” Before you could say anything, Miguel asked you an other question, acting like he didn’t hear your father:

“Do you like that?”

“What?” You tilted your head up, finally looking at him.

“Your job. Do you like it?”

That was a rather unexpected question for you and you didn’t know what to say at first. Did you like your job? Well, to some extent yes. Otherwise you wouldn’t be doing it. But you had to admit that when you knew you would have to take a break to come back home, you weren’t feeling sad. You wouldn’t miss your office, nor the pressure of the deadlines. An awkward silence fell on the three of you and when you felt the eyes of your father back on your face, you hastily replied:

“It’s interesting.”

You were glad that Miguel didn’t ask any more questions, only giving you a small smile as if he was trying to make you feel at ease, to show you that he understood. This was a judgment free look but something about it made you feel strange. He seemed curious. You could tell he wanted to ask you more questions but something was holding him back and so, he only nodded to you before saying that he should probably leave the two of you alone. After all, you probably had a lot of things to tell each other.

The idea of Miguel leaving you alone with your father in this large house that you didn’t recognize, made you panic. You knew that as soon as he would leave, you wouldn’t have any way to escape your father’s questions. Memories of many lonely evenings with him after the loss of your mother flooded your mind. The awkward silence, the non-said, the tension...you were too tired to face this tonight. When your father asked Miguel to stay for dinner, he seemed to hesitate and when his eyes met yours, it seemed like something shifted inside him. The two of you seemed to have a silent conversation because after a few seconds lost in each other’s eyes, he finally accepted your father’s offer to stay.

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< previous chapter / next chapter >

Notes: Chapter 3 will be a headcanon and will come out soon. I know this chapter may not be the most interesting but I'm still crafting the story and the character's background. Hope you liked it!

Taglist: @safixiovi

#miguel o'hara #spiderman 2099 #atsv #atsv miguel #across the spiderverse #miguel x reader #fanfic #spiderverse #dbf!miguel

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sci-twi · 17 days

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Some Information About Spark!

Brief Relevant AU Synopsis: Sonic Frontiers where just about everything is the same, but Shadow Chaos Controlled at the same exact time that Sonic first entered Cyber Space, causing a rift where he can interact with Sonic throughout his journey. Unfortunately, without concrete memories of Shadow (Memory Tokens) Sonic cannot remember the previous day’s events concerning Shadow. It ends the same way Frontiers does, but Sonic vaguely remembers the time they’d spent together and they go on their first date.

Fifteen years after the events in Sonic Frontiers and about ten years into their relationship, Sonic, Shadow and the gang are drawn back to Starfall Islands when a strange energy reading appears on Tails' satellites.

When on Rhea Island, they come across an abandoned pop-up GUN facility where they find an incubated infant sable. They take the sable back home with them.

Sonic and Shadow end up taking them in after much discussion and hesitation for their own reasons.

They name Spark after the random spike in energy that shows up on Tails’ devices whenever they’re around. They’re not entirely sure why that happens because other than having seven fingers on each hand and seven toes on each foot, there’s nothing quite different about them. They don’t seem to possess any sort of superpower and it seems that they don’t have the ability to harness or control chaos energy.

The answer comes when Rouge and Shadow find out more about their creation and discover that they are actually partially made of artificially recreated DNA of the Ancients. They’d been an experiment to study the effects of Ancient DNA on Mobian DNA and if it were compatible to combine them. GUN had hoped that the Ancient’s original connection with the Chaos Emeralds would make it so that their creation would be able to give them an advantage over those who harness the power of them if ever the need arose.

Sonic and Shadow figure that being that Spark is a child, they should not have to handle the burden of being told about their true origins and decide to only tell them when they’re ready and give them the opportunity to have a normal life that they’re sure they can’t guarantee.

To decrease the amount of exposure Spark has to chaos energy and the Chaos Emeralds, they often leave them with Tails whenever they have to run off and complete their own missions and journeys. This leads to them looking up to their Uncle Tails as he makes his own way in life and brings the kid along on non-dangerous field trips. They want to be just like Tails when they grow up.

As Spark grows, they find that they’re more technologically inclined than their peers. With the addition of several more fingers, it makes it so that their deftness in typing and hand-eye coordination are unmatched.

Personality wise, they aren’t very interested in making friends and tend to prefer to have their nose in a book rather than socialize with kids their age. They take after their father, Shadow, with their tendency to be aloof and broody. However, just like their dad, Sonic, they love a good challenge and possess a very upbeat attitude, not letting failure drag them down. Despite their closed-off demeanor, they are very kind and patient and outgoing with the people that they are comfortable with.

Later on as a teen, their talents are recognized by a rogue group that seeks to enlist him. This group reveals themself to be an alliance against GUN, looking to uncover its dark secrets and ultimately take it down. They don’t believe that GUN is working in the best interests of the people, but rather their own motivations of keeping power. Their secret leader turns out to be Tails, who has been finding his own way since after the events of Frontiers.

Tails (and the group) takes Spark under their wings, unbeknownst to Sonic or Shadow, who just believe that Spark is working as an intern under Tails for harmless scientific research. However, one day that might all change when Spark comes in contact with their very first Chaos Emerald, or better yet, the Master Emerald itself…

#sonic #sonic fankid #sonadow fankid #sonadow #sonic the hedgehog #spark the sable #tails #miles tails prower #shadow the hedgehog #sonic frontiers

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legacyshenanigans · 1 year

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After the ending of Sebastians story

Spoilers ahead, just incase.

Also kinda sad, which isn't my usual thing.

MC pulled up to feldcroft on her broom after looking everywhere for Sebastian, and seeing a light on in the Sallow home she knew this is where he was.

MC: *walks into the house* Sebastian?

Sebastian: *looks towards the door from the table* Oh! MC *wipes his eyes quickly* Hi..

She could tell looking at him that he'd been crying, his eyes were all red and puffy, he sat there, biting his bottom lip in thought.

MC: I thought I may find you here..What's that you have there?

Sebastian pushed the piece of paper across the table towards MC as she sat down, she picked it up, reading it.

Dear Sebastian

I had to get away for a while, I need time, I miss Uncle Solomon, I will always love you, but I dont know if I can forgive you

Anne.

MC looked up at him, as he sat there fiddling with his hands looking into nothing, just staring off into the distance.

MC: ..Where is she?

Sebastian: Dont know..Ominis knows..But he won't tell me..*sighs and turns to face MC* I've stopped asking him..He won't tell me..And I guess I don't want to force anything..I've.. I've done enough..She needs space..And that's fine.

MC reached over, putting her hand ontop of his resting on the table, Sebastian looked down at the contact, before pulling his hand away slowly, confusing MC, he looked her in the eye with a confused inquisitive look himself.

Sebastian: ..After what I did, why do you care so much? Why are you still by my side?

MC: Because I can tell you regret it, I truly do see the remorse in you, you were messed up Sebastian, enveloped in Dark magic and letting it take over you.

I tear ran down Sebastians cheek, he couldn't look at you, his head dropped to look at the floor instead.

Sebastian: I do..I do regret it..I wasn't myself MC..I dont know what came over me, Solomon didn't deserve what I did to him, neither did Anne..I...I want it all to go away, I want my sister back.. I want- *starts to cry*

MC: *grabs him and pulls him in for a hug*

Sebastian gripped at her desperately, clinging onto her with what energy he had left, as he just cried in her arms.

Sebastian: I'm..I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. For all of this.

MC: Listen..I love you, I'm with you, ill help you through this. Do you understand that? I'm here Sebastian..I'm not going anywhere.

Sebastian: *nods his head into her embrace* Thank you..

#hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy drabbles #hogwarts legacy headcanons #headcanon #sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow headcanon #drabbles #hogwarts legacy fanfic

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kukuma-kit · 11 months

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Holt Summer Waves

Ao’nung

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☆: * parings: Ao'nung x Omatikaya!reader

☆: * characters: Lo'ak, kiri, tuk, neytiri, jake, Tsireya, Tonowari, Ronal, Norm, Max, oc?

☆: * warnings: PROLONG TENSION before meeting Ao'nung, mentions of hunting(very long)

☆: * Na'vi glossary: Tsawksyul- sun lilly(flora), Tsahaylu- bond, siltan-word, Toruk Makto- Rider of last shadow, Marui Pod- huts to the Metkayina, yerik- Hexapede , Tawtsngal- panopyra(flora), Flate Skate Fish- type of fish

☆: * word count: 2280

☆: * Note(s): I have a habit of long intros huh, something I will need to work on lol. Feedback would be helpful!

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☆: * Summary: not being able to go with the sully family, you are stuck back at the Omatikaya clan and continue to enjoy yourself but Kiri has a seziure and now you're off to go with your uncles to see her.

Ze'tey skillfully navigated a sharp turn to avoid colliding with one of the robust rocks of Ayram Alusing otherwise known as the Hallelujah Mountains. The powerful flapping of her wings, combined with your tight grip on the queue harness and swift shifts in weight, made for an exhilarating ride. Looking over your shoulder, you spot Otxä on her ikran struggling to keep up with the vast environment and feel a sense of pride in your own flying skills as a Ikranä Maktoyu.

"you better keep up Otxä!" you shout out to her to which she replies back.

"I'll have you know that I am doing just fine!" she exclaims happily, even knowing that she was struggling somewhat.

As you feel the wind cut through your hair diving through the forest, you expertly maneuver through tight spaces and dodge looming tree trunks. Inside was a nearby clearing, you see a beautiful waterfall and let out a cheerful click. Ze'tey quickly swooped down into the water without hesitation, you lower your stance on Ze'tey's neck and break through the cascading water and into an open cave, expertly guiding Ze'tey through the sharp turns and steep ascents. The rush of the cool mist on your face heightens the experience with the strong huffs that seem to fill the surrounding air. The force of Ze'tey's breathing is so detectable that you can feel it in your own chest, a testament to the great power and energy that Ze'tey emanates.

As Otxä clicked her tongue and her ikran chirped, you instinctively looked behind you, and to your surprise, she was close enough to make you shout out. Feeling the immense force of Ze'tey, you held on tight as her wings gilded gracefully, propelling you both up towards an opening in the cave wall. The light slowly came into view as you scrambled out of the cave and soared above the lush trees. Along the way, you passed a group of Syaksuk, their playful voices echoing through the forest as they swung from the branches. You straightened up with Ze'tey as she cut through the air. Approaching the opening, you hear cheering and see a group of Na'vi pointing at you. Some are jumping with yips and others are on their ikran, perched at the top of the treelines some are even flying high above. The euphoric feeling of freedom and adventure rushes over you, bringing back nostalgic memories of past expeditions.

Your hold tightens on the queue harness as you catch sight of Otxä, preparing for the impending action. Ze'tey huffs beside you, oozing confidence as she senses your plan formulating. She gracefully narrows her wings and tenses her legs, flapping furiously to ascend to great heights. With a sudden dive, you both vanish into the forest canopy. Otxä seems bewildered by your swift maneuvers, but her eagerness gets the best of her as she charges towards her ikan with a smug grin stretched across her face. "Let's do this!" she cheers, daring anyone to stand in her way. This moment feels reminiscent of the past, as if the memories of your first flight together are being relived one more time.

the whirl of colors whipping past you as you are unexpectedly thrust out into a radiant clearing. The cheers and excitement of the Na'vi fill the air, the humidity of the dense jungle brimming with palpable energy. You notice a station banner in the distance and watch in awe as Otxä gasps in surprise and takes a nose dive to try and regain control. However, before she can get any closer, you whoop loudly as you soar past the banner and land safely on the other side. Turning to face Otxä, you feel your heart pounding in your chest as the rush of adrenaline and excitement overcomes you.

Otxä's grin mirrored your own excitement in that moment as she raised your victorious hand up high. "Behold," she roared, "the daring ikran rider reigns supreme once again!" Her voice echoed throughout the clearing and mingled with the chorus of youthful cheers. This was no ordinary tradition; our annual ikran race began as a simple pastime to cure teenage boredom but had since grown into an event of great significance. when you unearthed the bow made from the wood of the late hometree - gifted to you by your uncle Norm, adorned with akula teeth at the ends. Your friends had then decided that the winner would keep the bow as a memento, breaking the Tsaheylu as Ze'tey huffs heavily. You grabbed Ze'tey softly as you spoke "mawey, mawey Ze'tey" quickly giving her some yerik.

Otxä spoke sweetly, her voice full of warmth and love as she expressed how proud she was of you. Throughout your life, she had been a maternal figure, her mother taking you in when your parents died during the Great Battle. As you grew up under Norm's care when Otxä's mother died shortly, you spent countless hours around the lab, absorbing all the knowledge you could. Despite this, nothing prepared you for the rush of emotions you felt every time you raced. With the eclipse looming, you and Otxä decided to race once more to the marui pod, resulting in Otxä's unexpected victory and two sleepy omatiyaka women.

Opening your eyes after inhaling the tantalizing aroma of Max's tsawksyul, you were hanging out with him in the lab, lending a helping hand. You were in the midst of transferring the Tawtsngal to another container, when Max suddenly burst into the room, visibly distressed. "__, hurry! I need you to come with us. Kiri has had a seizure," Max exclaimed in a panic. Without any hesitation, you nodded and hastily made your way out to fetch Ze'tey. But not before making a quick detour to your hut to bid farewell to Otxä, explaining your urgent absence, and collecting some of your most potent herbs and healing tonics, stuffing them into a homemade pouch.

You first met Kiri thanks to Otxä, who brought you both together. Although you never became extremely close, you knew her well enough to appreciate her gentle, yet sassy sarcastic sense of humor. Being with Otxä and Kiri was always fun, as they had a rebellious streak that made every adventure exciting. You even began to feel as if you had two older sisters. Kiri was particularly kind to you, often braiding your hair and bringing little gifts. But what you loved most was when she brought Tuk over, the most adorable girl you had ever seen. Whenever Kiri was around, you could not resist the urge to go on little adventures with Tuk.

As you climb aboard one of the impressive aircrafts, Norm recounts the events that took place as you make your way towards your destination. Little did you know that Ze'tey had tailed you until halfway through, at which point you decided to hop on her. Briskly, you arrived and landed right after them, disconnecting Tsaheylu before quickly following behind Toruk makto and Norm, with Max right by your side. Once you reached the designated spot, you set all the necessary equipment up and inspected the logs to ensure everything was in order. Promptly, you mix together a powerful blend of herbs to help Kiri calm down before whispering softly, "Sìltsan, Sìltsan" as she takes the concoction. Suddenly, the Tsahìk of the Metkayina clan and Tonowari's mate, Ronal, enters the scene as Toruk makto's partner bellows at everyone to leave.

Unsure of what to do, you stick around to help The Tsahìk with requirements she may need. The tension in the air is palpable as the group navigates through this difficult time together.

"__," Tsahìk's firm voice broke the painful silence as she skillfully dipped her needle into the small cup of liquid you offereas she did her acupuncture. Tuk leans into your side as she watches her sister, you then get up when Kiri wakes up seeing her family members come in. You didn't want to crowd her any more than she was. You go to the Tsahìk, seeing as she was exhausted and wanting to carry her basket. "Oel ngati kameie, Tsahik"( I see you)

Tsahìk glanced up as you approached her with an offer to carry her basket. She eyed the young one warily, questioning their intentions, but decided to accept their help as she was too exhausted to carry it herself. "That would save me the effort indeed. Go ahead," she replied gruffly. "Why does a young one want to carry my stuff?especially that of omatikaya, do you not wish to see your family?" she questions your intentions.

"I would like to help the Tsahìk, as I would like to be useful and I am not needed there" you answer back as she hands over the bundle of supplies, Following her out of the marui pod, you catch a glimpse of a breathtaking metkayina girl approaching the Tsahìk. As the Tsahìk takes note of your hunter bow, she inquires, "You have experience as a hunter?'"

not expecting her question you look at her as you hold onto your bow softly. "Yes, I am a hunter with my clan" you reply softly.

"Ah, that is good to see. It is always nice to meet people who are capable of protecting their clan and their people" she replies shortly after, seeing her daughter come into close contact.

"mother, is everything alright?" Immediately recognizing her as Tsireya, you gesture a greeting to which she does back. "Hello sweetheart, She has awoken" Tsahìk replies as they walk beside each other. You just followed silently as you start to arrive main village area. Handing the basket over to Tsireya, you turn to see Tonowari hoping off his skimwing, quickly gesturing respect you go back to see Lo'ak talking with two metkayina boys. "Lo'ak!"

As you sprint towards the group, memories of Lo'ak flood your mind, like the times Tuk spoke passionately about her brother and even invited you to dinner. Unfortunately, Neytiri wasn't too thrilled about your presence since she did not know you. Nevertheless, you approach the group, and Lo'ak greets you with a warm embrace, proceeding to the two captivated young boys gazing at you with wonder. "Who's that?" one of them asks as you join the group - a perfect chance to tell them.

"__ te Raylu'itu and you?" you spoke with a firm voice as you gestured back to them. " Ao'nung te Tskaha, Ronal'itan"introduces briefly looking you over as his friend smiles. "I am Roxto! you are friend of Kiri?" he asks to which you nod.(__ daughter of Raylu, Ao'nung of Tsahik, son of Ronal)

"Indeed, more or less," you reply with a hint of excitement. Kiri found solace in Neytiri’s embrace, while Lo'ak was entrusted with the task of fetching some food. Intrigued by their imminent adventure to the hunting grounds, you eagerly join them on their journey. Lo'ak and Ao'nung go to the edges after grabbing saddles, calling out and clapping their hands. Two Ilu appear, they waste no time strapping on their saddles and leaping onto the creatures' backs. "Makto ko!" Lo'ak exclaims once he's settled, he looks at Ao'nung then you. "You're gonna have to ride with Ao'nung, Ion got room cuz" (let's ride!)

Before Ao'nung could protest, he swims off. "Au! Za'u!" Ao'nung gruffs out in annoyance as he rushes you to get on to which you comply.

Venturing deep into the swampy forest, you've honed the skill of breathing underwater to a tee. That, however, wasn't the main problem as it was a bit hard to stay on the ilu with the water gushing roughly from Ao'nungs Ilu pace. Feeling your unsteady presence behind him, he tenderly secures his grip on your thigh, ensuring you remain firmly in place as your ride swiftly continues through the captivating waters you quickly arrive near an area with a school of Flat Skate Fish. After disembarking, you swim together with your companions behind the vibrant coral reef, and watch intently as Ao'nung and Lo'ak try their hand at spearfishing. After some failed attempts, y'all decide that your catch was enough to feed your families as you head above the surface to breathe, followed by the two.

"latsi, forest girl" Ao'nung tells you as he calls out to his Ilu again, mounting it as you follow in suit. you look at Lo'ak and compliment his useage of the speargun and hunting skills. "Those fish were pretty fast!" Lo'ak laughs as he agrees.(keep up, forest girl).

"of course tho, my hunting skills were no match!"

"quit flirting you too, we need to head back. Makto ko!" Ao'nung impatiently urges you to stop flirting and head back, you quickly grab onto him, eager to return. Lo'ak is close behind, eager to race. Ao'nung agrees and before you know it, you're whizzing past corals and other obstacles, gripping onto Ao'nung for dear life. As you approach Awa'atlu, you burst through the water's surface and take a deep breath. Ao'nung chuckles at the sight of you, "You look like small lips over there," he says. You hop off, Lo'ak following suit. Bewildered, you ask Ao'nung what he means by that.(let's ride)

"He was worse than a Metkayina baby learning our ways, he still swims slow" Lo'ak glared at him, already annoyed that Ao'nung beat him again.You chuckle as you help with the bundle, dropping some off to the sully's before you follow Ao'nung to his Marui pod. "Oel ngati kameie, Ronal, Tonowari" you gesture to them as Ao'nung lets you in, helping you put the fish up and Tsireya drags you away to tell you that the sully's want you so you rush back, seeing Norm and Max you check in with them. "Hey, we're gonna have you stay since you have herbs and medical stuff they'll need help in" Norm tells you as you nod, Max and just came back with your stuff.

"Am I really leaving my friends behind?" you anxiously inquire, but your worries dissipate as Norm nods reassuringly. "Don't worry, kid, it's just for a few months," he gives you a friendly pat on the head before hopping into the aircraft. You watch as he waves goodbye, then make your way to the marui pod, feeling exhausted. You're so tired that you decide to skip dinner and slip away into a peaceful slumber in a spare bed.

#ao'nung #avatar way of the water imagine #ao'nung imagine #avatar #atwow x reader #aonung x reader #kuniblurbs #suggestiono #atwow #avatar 2 #avatar james cameron #avatar the way of water 2022 #avatar ao'nung #x reader #imagine #female reader #Holt Summer Waves

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adastra121 · 5 months

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I made the childhood friend OC from my Touchstarved Hound!MC’s backstory.

Erick the Cloaked Wolf

Pronouns: He/Him Birthday: May 2 Height: 6’0 Personality: Introverted Robin Hood. He leads a crew that steals from the rich to give to the poor. I think he has a lot of big brother energy to his crew and the kids in the slums. Likes: Rooftop views, stupid jokes, strong alcohol, dogs, card games, when things go according to plan Dislikes: Shitty ale, brutes, rich people, tight spaces, surprises (someone will get punched in the face — accidentally or maybe on purpose — if a surprise party jumps out at him) Fatal flaw: Will always take the safe path, no matter what Other: He’s a decent guitarist. Once suggested, when he and Alon were kids, that they start a band and become the most famous bards across the land. And then he heard Alon sing…They became thieves instead.

More about Erick below:

Erick is the childhood friend of my Hound!MC Alon. They met when Alon used their curse on his abusive uncle, and they escaped together.

In contrast to Alon’s friendliness and spontaneity, Erick is more introverted, calculating, cautious, and thoughtful. He never takes action without a well-thought-out plan.

Their differences made them work well together. They challenged each other, pushed each other a little outside of their own comfort zones, and in doing so, they made each other better thieves. Better people, too, for that matter.

Over the years, more and more misfits, runaways and victims joined him and Alon, and they became the Greycloaks. Grey for the stone walls that tower over the Outer District, for the Fog and the Soulless that creep into the slums and disappears its inhabitants to the indifference of the affluent Inner District.

Erick, being the one who usually formed all the plans and kept things in order, was automatically seen as the leader of their motley crew.

He wasn’t born into a great family. His uncle was a drunkard and often beat him before Alon took care of him with her curse. Life at their old orphanage wasn’t much better. As far as he’s concerned, the Cloaks are his family — and he’ll do anything to take care of them.

At first, they stole and did odd jobs together for their own group’s survival, but as time passed, they started to give portions of what they stole to people who needed the coin and the resources.

Eventually, they become something close to folk heroes in the Shade (slang term for the slums in Acaelia's Outer District, which sits right at the border, hence always being in the “shade” of the city’s walls).

It took Erick a while to warm up to Alon — after all, they didn’t meet in the best circumstances. Eventually, though, their goofy and friendly demeanour became safety. A respite from their hellish childhoods. A home.

Erick and Alon were very physically affectionate with each other. Having known each other for years, they’d fallen into a natural rhythm when it came to loving touches. Erick always made sure to avoid their hands, going instead for headpats, wrapping an arm around their shoulders, forehead kisses, piggybacks, fireman carries, and using Alon’s head as a headrest because she is so short.

Alon doesn't often use their hands for physical affection but when she does — like when she cuts or braids his hair — he trusts them implicitly.

He likes to hear Alon sing. They’re atrocious and he knows that, but he also knows they love singing and it makes him happy to see them having fun. That’s why he’ll always be her accompanying melody, even though there is absolutely no chance they’ll earn any coin from it whatsoever.

He bought glasses for Alon. They were a commission. Erick, being Erick, made sure the glasses were practical — they were made to be durable and long-lasting, shatter-resistant so Alon wouldn’t suffer injury to their eyes if they broke.

I made their relationship ambiguous — they could be really close friends or lovers or friends who pined for each other but never pursued romance for whatever reasons. But they were definitely family, and they loved each other deeply. I think the both of them would have been content just living out the rest of their lives together wherever they ended up.

At first glance, he seems more serious and put-together than Alon, but once you warm up to him, you’ll discover that they’re both massive dorks.

He loves bad jokes and dumb humour. He’d laugh at any dad joke. Fortunately for him — unfortunately for everyone else — Alon has a whole arsenal. They’d trade dumb dad jokes back and forth to the rest of the Greycloaks’ chagrin.

Erick has an eidetic memory, which comes in handy for casing a joint or making a profile about a mark.

He prefers to be a careful observer instead of the centre of attention, but if the heist calls for an impromptu performance, he’ll play his part. Even if he’s not looking forward to the teasing from the other crew members afterward.

Wields a shortsword for mercenary work, though he has a strict “no killing” rule. Rule became negotiable by the time Touchstarved main story begins.

Erick had done some underground fighting, though it was a brief run. He actually met another Greycloak in the ring. He prefers not to, but he can, has, and will rock someone's shit if he’s forced into that situation.

He’s good at card games. Almost unfairly good. Alon’s the only one who’s ever won against him at a card game. It was Speed.

Has a soft spot for kids. If life had been different, he probably would have opened up an orphanage.

Has a high alcohol tolerance — he could probably drink a sailor under the table.

Erick is claustrophobic. Small, enclosed spaces make him feel trapped. Much of it is due to trauma from his uncle’s abuse. He has a better handle on it now, but he still gets nervous whenever the need to hide forces him into a small closet or the like.

I feel like in a modern AU, he'd play D&D (Dungeons and Dragons). Actually, I think he'd be a DM (Dungeon Master). He'd really enjoy the planning aspect and leading a group through a story.

His zodiac sign is a Taurus.

MBTI type is INFJ.

Enneagram is 6w5

I was listening to “Dear Friend Across the River (The Bridge)” by Samuel Kim ft. Rachel Hardy while writing about him.

Full drawing of him:

Alon x Erick Playlist (with additional songs in Erick's perspective):

“A Million Dreams” by Hugh Jackman, Michelle Williams, and Ziv Zaifman

“Secret Worlds” by The Amazing Devil — I think this one fits their relationship the best.

"To Noise Making (Sing)" by Hozier

“Kids Again” by Artist vs Poet

“Garden” by Dua Lipa

“Wild Blue Yonder” by The Amazing Devil

“I See Fire” by Ed Sheeran

"Safe Ship, Harbored" by The Crane Wives

“As It Was” by Hozier

“Guns for Hire” by Woodkid

“Hurricane” by Thirty Seconds to Mars

“Gravity” by Against the Current

“Snakes” by PVRIS

“So What” by P!NK

“Burn Butcher Burn” Cover by Fruitlegs

"The One That Got Away" Cover by Brielle Von Hugel

“What Could Have Been” by Sting ft. Ray Chen

“Farewell Wanderlust” by The Amazing Devil

“Good Riddance” Cover by annapantsu ft IdrysLTS

“Shrike” by Hozier

"Ruin" by The Amazing Devil

#touchstarved #touchstarved oc #touchstarved game #red spring studio #erick the wolf #erick the childhood friend #I'm not sure if it shows very well in the drawing — Erick has hazel eyes and a dimple #my oc #my art #my original character #original character #oc #alon the hound

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isfjmel-phleg · 1 year

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It's Tamett's birthday! I haven't written because I've had zero creative energy and haven't felt like guilting myself into trying to get anything done, but I wanted to post something for the day, so you get to see all that exists of a draft of a Tamett short story.

This one is a flashback to Tamett and Josiah's first meeting. It's very unedited (there's still a place holder in brackets, I am aware it is ridiculous) and not especially exciting (I think), but it's something. Please feel free to tell me what's not working, because I lost steam on this one. I know how it ends, but getting there...?

All Tamett had to do was make a friend. That was simple. His uncle had said so, all the long journey from Noriber. All Tamett had to do was convince Josia, Crown Prince of Lienne, a boy whom he had never met or hoped to even see, that the two of them could become devoted companions, all within the space of an hour’s interview. Anyone could manage that, Tamett’s uncle had blithely claimed. Even Tamett.

Tamett already had a companion of his own, tucked away in his pocket, and that was enough for him. He unbuttoned his pocket to check on his friend one last time for comfort, for the doors had opened, and his uncle had shoved him into one of the royal family’s private sitting rooms. It was dusty purple and no grander than his aunt’s drawing room back in Noriber. Every available surface was covered in framed photographs or piles of books or half-abandoned knitting or knick-knacks. Potted palms half-hid most of the furniture, and the floor was likewise littered with toys and discarded shoes and baskets of mending and old newspapers. The deeply cushioned armchairs beckoned Tamett to plop down on one of them, kick off his shoes, and curl up for a nap. But his uncle clung to his hand, and Tamett was forced to step slowly, gradually, across the well-trod carpet toward the man enthroned in a wingback chair by the window.

Although the man sat stiffly, as if on his best behavior for visitors, his expression drooped. His clothes hung crisply, as if he weren’t used to them. Tamett knew about that; he had been fitted with several uncomfortable suits of clothes before he left home. His were for school, however; this man was in deep mourning. Everyone at the palace was, Tamett’s uncle had said, because the queen had recently died. The man now overlooking Tamett with the enthusiasm normally granted to [BORING THING] was His Majesty King Odren.

Tamett hardly heard the words exchanged between the king and his uncle as he scrambled into the position of a Liennese bow—right leg back, bobbing halfway down on the left leg, right hand over heart—as he had practiced under his uncle’s critical eye.

“How do you do, Master Lockridge?” said the king.

“How do you—” Tamett gulped the rest of the sentence down and tried to remember the odd expression. “My heart beats in your service, Your Majesty.”

His heart was actually beating so hard he was half-afraid it was visible through his jacket, but presumably the king didn’t care to know that.

The king extended a hand toward a nearby sofa, where two big girls, practically grown-up and clothed in the same deep black, sat arm in arm. “My daughters, Ayra and Ateva. Ayra will be attending to household concerns in the absence of her stepmother, if you have any particular needs.”

Tamett wobbled through the bow again and recited the formula for greeting princesses. “My honor is at your disposal, Your Royal Highnesses.” He didn’t know which was Ayra, but he hoped she was the red-haired one who smiled at him. The other princess was as somber-faced as her father. She must have been awfully sad about the queen too.

“Josia,” said the king, “come and meet your new companion.”

A tall-backed chair facing a wall on the far end of the room creaked reluctantly, and a form slowly emerged from the cushioned depths and approached the king’s chair, ducking behind furniture and plants rather than crossing past Tamett. He didn’t look at the visitors but stood at his father’s elbow with his face turned away. The king said something to him in a low voice and nudged him forward.

Tamett had been told that Josia was nearly a year younger than him, still only seven, but he was already taller and bigger than Tamett. His mourning was immaculate in the way Tamett’s mother always wanted her son to keep his good clothes, and his dark blond hair lay as smoothly away from his forehead as if molded from china like Emenor’s doll’s head. Despite his proper appearance, he wore a sulky expression, which deepened as he surveyed Tamett with reddened eyes.

“How do you do, Tamett?” he said, as if he were hoping to hear that Tamett was suffering from some wasting disease. But he used the familiar form of “you,” as if with a friend. Perhaps this was a good sign.

Tamett hurried through his bow. “My hands are at your command, Your Royal Highness.”

Josia said nothing. He only stood staring at Tamett, who dared to smile back. Josia did not return it.

“Why don’t you show Master Lockridge your books, Josia?” said the king.

“Yes, Father,” said Josia, and with a flick of one finger he beckoned Tamett into the corner with the tall-backed chair. Bookcases hemmed the walls, crammed with dozens of gilt volumes, all the same size [...]

#The Blackberry Bushes #The Blackberry Bushes excerpts #my writing #Tamett Lockridge #and other people that I don't feel like tagging right now

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emmlovesmarvel · 2 years

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Chapter 7 - Upward & Onward

A/N

So I actually wanted to continue this story because I love WandaNat so much and I miss writing about them so here we are. Hope you guys are okay with me continuing it. Also feel free to interact with me about this story or about anything else! I am really enjoying the writing community and I like to think I’m fun to talk to. Anyways…enjoy this chapter! More to come!

Max POV

I’ve stayed in my room for the past 48 hours just trying to process all that’s happened. I haven’t had much of an appetite to keep meals down except for soup or small sandwiches but I go out of my room to hydrate and snack occasionally. And to also let moms know I am alive but not well. I told them I love them and am so thankful for them, but I just need time by myself to process and isolate a bit. I’m not sure why, but it always helps me. They’ve been so understanding and kind to me which I can never thank them enough for.

I’ve cleaned my room and rearranged it because who doesn’t enjoy rearranging their room at 11pm randomly? I also decided to take charge of my space and make it safe and comfortable for me. Jay had always had a say in what I wore, how my room looked like, what I ate, and when I exercised. Rearranging and cleaning was so liberating and freeing because I got rid of everything and anything that had him tied to it. I came across a photo booth strip when Jay and I were first together. We were at our school’s Sadie Hawkins dance and they had a bunch of cute props and funny clothes to dress in. He was kissing my cheek while I am stupidly laughing. I don’t realize I’m crying until I taste the warm salty liquid that had flowed down onto my lips. Did I make a mistake? Maybe he really loved me.

No. He loved having control. Somehow he manipulated me into giving up control. How could I be so stupid and not see it? Natasha Romanoff raised me for Christ’s sake. I am good at reading people and their intentions. Was I that desperate to be with someone romantically? Or did I really just fall in love with an abuser? How did he knock my walls down and build new ones to trap us in so no one could break through them? He made me so closed off to who I loved most.

Yet they always loved and accepted me. No matter how broken, angry, sad or mean I was. They continued to be what they promised they would always be. My loving mothers. I’ve never had to worry about not having a father or fatherly influence because Wanda Maximoff and Natasha Romanoff are the best of both worlds. They made an unstoppable and all powerful team. And they loved each other and me with everything they have. Why didn’t I ask for help sooner? I was breaking them. They had to watch the thing they love most, go through what I went through. I am so underserving of their love and protection yet they give it to me freely and in never ending amounts.

I can almost feel mama’s arms around me, holding me in our safe space. Wait. These arms are real. She’s holding me on the floor of my room. Shit. She must’ve felt me crying or mom must’ve heard me. I didn’t mean to wake them.

“Shh…shh baby, you’re okay. I’m right here. Let it out. You’re not alone, Max. We are always right here.” Mama says, placing her hand on my chest.

“S-sorry. I didn’t mean to w-wake you.” I sob.

“No, my love don’t apologize. It’s okay. I’m glad I could be here. I’ve missed you, my heart.” I can feel her smiling on that last part.

“I’ve missed you too. More than you could ever know, actually.” I watery laugh.

“I like what you’ve done with the place. It’s much more…Max.” She says to me as we make eye contact.

She smiles through her tear-filled green eyes. She kisses my forehead and I close my eyes, remembering what this feels like. I’m instantly warmed to my core and I feel my shoulders, then my jaw, and finally my abdomen completely relax. How does her touch just do that? Mama is always warm and soft. She is strong like mom and like Uncle Pietro was, but her demeanor and energy is always soft. She knows exactly how to make me feel calm and safe with a simple hug or kiss and I think that is truly her biggest superpower.

“Do you want to talk about it?” She asks resting her chin atop my head and stroking my hair and back.

“I just feel so stupid. And then I get angry at how stupid I was. And then I get sad at how I treated you and mom.” I reply dryly, finally composing myself.

“Your mind is putting you through the most vicious cycle I think, our minds can ever go through. All of these feelings are valid and they make complete sense. But once your mind finally relieves you of these feelings and thoughts, you will see what mom and I see. There’s no way you could’ve predicted Jay would be the person he is. There’s just no way. And I have extremely powerful empathetic powers and I didn’t even see it until after a while of you being together. And your mom being the scarily good spy she is, didn’t see it until I mentioned it to her. Even Auntie Lena didn’t see it.

I know you might think this is useless right now, but Max this is in no way your fault. This is all on him. You are not stupid for falling in love with someone or wanting to help them better themselves. You are the best kind of person because you have that quality.” She finishes and kisses my forehead.

“How do you do that?” I ask.

“Do what?” She tilts my head up to look at her.

“Know exactly what to say, know how to make me feel better with one touch, are perfectly empathetic..” I trail off.

“I didn’t use to know how. Your mom helped me in all of these ways. And your uncle Vision. And…you. I learn from you every day. I just have more practice putting what I’ve learned into action. Which by the way, you are way more ahead of where I was at your age. I was a closed off, moody, emo, and sad teenager. Which I guess encompasses the teenager lifestyle. But you Max, have always been resilient, strong, happy, helpful and thoughtful. You will get through this, my love. Take all the time you need. Grieving can’t be planned or controlled. Let it come and go. When it comes, you can come to me or mom. Or if you need to just isolate, do that. We just don’t want you hurting yourself. We would never judge, but we just want you to be safe. I love you so much, my heart.” She hugs me tighter as I reflect on what she said.

We stay there for a while until I start getting tired. Mama stands up and takes my hand, pulling me along with her. We reach her room and climb into their bed. Mom instinctively pulls me into her, placing a kiss on my head. I hug her back with as much ferocity and we eventually fall asleep.

Wanda POV (1 night before her conversation with Max)

Max hasn’t come out of her room since we all went to bed the morning after she told us everything with her nightmare. I know this will take her some time to process and try to understand what will happen now. I just can’t help but worry for her. I can feel her loneliness and sadness. Nat is helping me separate what are my emotions and what are Max’s.

“I just worry about her.” I say crying into Nat’s shoulder.

“I do too. We have to respect her wants though. Especially now. She needs to make sure she knows she isn’t controlled here like she was with him. By the way, I called Fury this morning and he says that he can have Jay locked up in a matter of days. The pictures I sent him of Max’s bruises and other scars were enough to make him sick. It’s Yelena we have to keep an eye on so Jay doesn’t mysteriously go missing.” She finishes making me chuckle.

“It’s so hard to feel what she’s feeling Nat. I’m glad I understand but I just hurt so much for her.” I defeatedly express.

“I wish we could take it all away from her.” Nat says kissing my forehead and pulling me into her again.

We suddenly hear her door creak open and light footsteps following it. Max comes out wearing sleep shorts, a tank top and a messy bun. She looks so cute but that thought is quickly replaced when I see the bruises on her upper arm and the one around her neck. I try to swallow my obvious expression of worry and protectiveness when I see her look up with tired eyes.

“I’m alive. I’m just getting some water and fruit. I love you guys. Thanks for respecting my space. I don’t know when I’ll be ready, but I promise it won’t be like this forever.” She says hugging Nat and then me. I’m glad she’s eating something because she hasn’t been eating a ton lately. This is evident when I can still feel every bone in her upper body which makes me hold her tighter. I just want to take all this away from her. She pulls away and smiles.

“We love you too, our heart. What fruit do you want?” Nat asks sweetly.

“Mandarin oranges and grapes?” Max asks.

“Coming right up.”

She takes her water bottle and fruit back to her room and shuts the door. Nat and I look at each other with so much love and sadness at the same time.

We both sit down on the couch and finish out the night with some Criminal Minds.

It’s now the next evening and Nat and I are getting ready for bed. We saw Max only once today. She had changed her clothes and was freshly showered. I know it gets harder for her to do her basic hygiene routine when she is depressed and we were expecting to have to help her but I’m proud she’s doing it on her own. She grabbed some more water and a small sandwich I made her earlier.

We were finally in bed and I was on the cusp of sleep when my chest started to burn and I felt my core tightening. This came out of nowhere. Then I heard soft muffles from Max’s room. She’s crying. This time it’s really bad. There are so many thoughts that are so loud. She is having a hard time breathing. I get out of bed and stand in front of her door assessing if I should enter or not. I follow my gut and enter her room and see her on the floor holding a photo strip. Her room looks completely different. I love it. She must’ve not heard me walk in and sit down behind her.

I pull her small frame into me and gently hold her. I rock us back and forth a bit until she understands what’s happening.

I feel her trying to breathe in more air and I shush her. I start rubbing circles on her back and kissing her head. I’ve missed her so much. She’s been in our house this whole time but I’ve barely seen her. I didn’t realize how much I missed hugging her. She fits so perfectly in my arms and I relish in it.

Once we are silent and content on the floor after her talking about her feelings, I stand up. I pull her hand up with me and lead us into our bedroom. Nat wakes up slightly when Max lays down. She pulls her into a hug and kisses her head. I rub her arm up and down until we all fall asleep. I can feel a glimmer of hope. It’s my own feeling, but Max’s too. She will get through this.

Nat POV

I wake up to the small but mighty snores from Max. She looks like she’s actually getting some good sleep. These past days have been so rough for her. I’m glad Fury is taking care of Jay so we can focus on Max’s healing. We need to help her eat some more and get on a good sleep schedule. Wanda is a bit better at helping regulate emotions in the house where it’s easier for me to manage everyone’s physical health. We make a good team for this reason. Although sometimes Wanda is reminding me to eat lunch as I work through paperwork and I reassure Wanda that Max will get through this and that she needs to prioritize her own emotions so she doesn’t spiral.

I get up and grab my phone. I step into the living room and call Yelena.

“Hey Nat. Everything okay?” Yelena asks as she picks up.

“Hey. Yeah everything’s looking up. Max and Wanda had a heart to heart last night which seemed to help them both.”

“Well that’s good to hear. How is Fury with arresting Jay?”

“They’re still processing the evidence photos. After that’s through, they’ll pick him up. Listen Lena, I know you want to kill him, get in line, but I think Max would benefit from some Auntie time. I think she would open up to you a bit more and maybe start realizing this isn’t her fault. She also needs some help and encouragement with eating.”

“I just booked my flight, I’ll be there in 2 days. I’m glad Fury is on it. That son of a bitch doesn’t deserve to see another ray of sunlight.”

“You have that right. Maybe while you’re here, you could-.”

“No, Nat. I can’t. I messed up bad with Kate. I need to give her some time.”

“Yelena, come on it’s been months. She still stops by here checking in on Max and us. I can tell she misses you. You just need to make the first move. Just tell me you’ll think about it.”

“…Fine. I’ll think about it. Happy? I’ll see you soon. Love you, Natasha.”

“I love you too, Lena.”

I start preparing breakfast when I hear light footsteps walking towards the kitchen. Max. I look up to see her cute face still trying to wake up.

I turn to face her completely and she wraps her arms around me and leans her head on my shoulder. I hold her back tightly and trace my fingers up and down her back. I’ve missed her.

“Did you sleep well?” I ask pulling away a bit.

“Yes. I always sleep good being in your arms.” She smiles back.

“Well I am glad to be of service. I love what you did with your room. You can use our card to buy some more stuff you want.” I tell her and I feel her nod.

“Also, I just got off with Auntie Lena and she lands here Wednesday night.”

“Really?! Ah! I’m so excited! Maybe she will finally talk to Kate.” She laughs sitting down on the barstool.

“Oh trust me I said the same thing. She says she’ll think about it.” We both laugh.

I see Wanda come out yawning and smiling at us. She hugs me and kisses me sweetly before going behind Max and hugging her. She sits down next to her and I hand them both coffee. We finish up eating our breakfast and Max goes to take a shower.

“I’m glad to hear Lena is coming. That’ll be good for Max.” Wanda says helping me clean the dishes.

“That’s what I was thinking as well. They have always been two peas in a pod. It’ll be good for her to have someone else to open up to…” “What happened last night?” I ask looking up from the sink into Wanda’s eyes.

“She found an old photo of her and Jay at the Sadie Hawkins dance last year and she got overwhelmed and cried. I just couldn’t take her being in there all alone feeling like she is alone. I held her and let her know that her mind is playing through a vicious thought cycle and she will eventually break out of it. She feels stupid for even falling in love with him in the first place.” She says.

“I wish she could see it’s not her fault. One day she will, but I just wish our baby wasn’t so broken right now. She’s worthy of so much.” I say leaning into Wanda.

“She’ll see that soon, my love. She will. We just have to be there to catch her when she falls into that mindset now and again. Last night as we were falling asleep, I felt this pang of hope in my core. It was so strong. I realized it’s because she was feeling that same pang, as well as you and me.” She says kissing my hairline.

“I definitely felt that when you guys came back to bed. I’m glad she was feeling it. That’s what really counts.” I reply.

We finish up cleaning the kitchen and the rest of the house. Max joined us outside in Wanda’s garden. She kept eating all the blackberries and Wanda was chasing her around trying to get the last one out of her mouth.

“Hey! That was the last ripe one! Come here and give it to me!” Wanda screams chasing Max.

“I can’t! They’re too good mama. I have to eat this last one!” She says with her mouth full of berries, holding the last one.

Wanda eventually catches up with her and lifts her in the air making Max squeal and drop the berry onto the grass.

“AHA!” Wanda yells, taking it and putting into her mouth. Her eyes go wide as she enjoys the taste of the last ripe berry.

“That’s okay, I didn’t want any blackberries.” I say looking at them both with my eyebrow cocked.

They look at me and innocently smile at the same time revealing their purple teeth making me chuckle.

“Sorry mom. Hehe. Uh there’s some raspberries over there if you want!” Max says as I inch forward towards her.

Before she registers what’s happening, I pick her up and run around with her, tickling her sides making her laugh. Wanda joins me and Max falls to the ground trying to squirm away. We join her on the grass and look up at the clouds.

A little while later, Max takes a blackberry out of her pocket and eats it.

“YOU LITTLE!” Wanda says. Max just laughs hysterically as I join her.

“Oh and what are you laughing about, Romanoff?” Wanda asks me, eyebrows furrowed.

“She played you, Maximoff. Like a violin.” I say and we all laugh.

“Well neither of you aren’t getting any blackberries next season.” She proudly says.

We all head back inside and we are helping Max decide where to put up some new decorations that she ordered. Things are finally looking up for our family. We are moving upward and onward.

#wandanat x daughter!reader #wandanat #mama nat #mama wanda #wanda x daughter #natasha x daughter!reader #natasha x teen reader #natasha x daughter #wandanat x daughter #wanda x teen!reader

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sunnyie-eve · 1 year

Text

2 | Therapy

Series: Valentine Addams | Wednesday

Paring: (Xavier Thorpe x OFC Addams! Tyler Galpin x OFC Addams!)

Word Count: 1811

Warnings: opening up

Last: Nevermore | Next: Knock it Off

"Dr. Kinbott's office is on the second floor. Other Nevermore students swear by her." Weems tells me as we pull up to a building in Jericho.

"Does she normally work on Sundays? Most have their offices closed." I ask looking at the building.

"She volunteered to take you Sundays along with Wednesdays." Weems lets me know.

"Will you be sitting in the vehicle the whole time?" I look over at her, "You don't have to worry about me trying to run away from it. I quite enjoy my therapy sessions." I tell her.

"Well in that case I'll go pay the mayor a visit after a few minutes or walk around. Afterwards we can meet at the Weathervane for hot chocolate." She tells me.

"I do love hot chocolate." I get out going inside the building.

"Valentine, I've been waiting for you. I've read all there is about you. Take a seat." Dr. Kinbott smiles at me.

"So then you know no therapist can handle me and my issues." I take a seat across from her.

"Well in not like any of those fifty." She tells me.

"We'll see if you can outlast them before you crack. The shortest time for one was ten minutes." I give her a smile like she gave me.

"I promise, I won't crack so easily. And this is a safe space where we can discuss anything. What your thinking, feeling, your views in the world." She explains to me.

"I think you might be right on lasting a bit longer than the others because you aren't sitting across the entire room away from me with your voice shaking in fear."

"Why did they fear you?" She asks me.

"From what they read about me." I get comfortable in my seat.

"Do you want to tell me why you did what you did last year to that girl and boy?" She asks.

"My so called friend and boyfriend got together behind my back. I prefer to be the backstabber not the backstabbey so they had it coming. Especially knowing what kind of person I am and what I'm capable of doing." I explain messing with my sleeve.

"You feel no remorse not guilt?" She says watching me.

"Of course not. If anything I'm disappointed in myself for failing at my mission." I roll my eyes at myself.

"I'm going to change the topic, if that's alright with you. How is your relationship with your family?" She says so I look her in the eyes.

"Well. I get along with each member. Dr. Kinbott, I may be a tab bit psychotic at times but I still have a heart. Especially when it comes to family. Others are a different story depending on how they are as a person and how they are to me. I know what feelings are and I can read them well but not everyone deserves for me to care about them." I explain to her, "You have to earn it from me." I give her a smile.

"In your family who do you have the best relationship with?" She tilts her head and I think.

"My sister, even though we are quite the opposite at times. I believe it's because we're twins so we just have that bond. But as I said, I have a good relationship with each member. My mother, father, sister, and brother. Even my uncle, Thing, and Lurch."

Soon the session was over and I head over to the Weathervane to meet Principal Weems. I walk inside to see she wasn't here yet so I decide to get a hot chocolate and wait for her. I walk up to the counter and a guy's back was turned towards me as I waited. I clear my throat making him turn around to look at me, "A hot chocolate and a croissant... please." I tell him with a straight face.

"New to Nevermore I'm guessing since I've never seen you around." He eyes me.

"Indeed." I say before taking a seat at a booth looking out the window for Weems.

"Here you go. A hot chocolate with a croissant." He places my stuff down on the table, "You waiting for someone?" He asks me.

"I am but I don't think it's any of your business who." I look up at him.

"I didn't ask who." He says matching my energy making me get a slight smile.

"I'm Valentine."

"Tyler. What brings you into town or is that not part of my business as well?" He asks me making me think he's not that bad.

"Therapy session, Court order. Two days a week." I tell him.

"Dr. Kinbott, what do you think of her?" He takes a seat across from me making me eye him.

"Stronger than the past fifty therapists I've had."

"Fifty?" His eyes widen.

"I'm a little too much to handle. That's why I'm starting at Nevermore this year. Ten schools in the last five years. No one else will take me because of my record." I add.

"Should I even ask?" He chuckles.

"Recent was attempted murder. If you look me up you'll come across a few articles. None tell the true story though." I shrug my shoulders.

"Care to tell me the true story? I don't want to read lies about you." He asks so I sit up straight.

"They say I was a jealous crazy ex. That's not true and I didn't try choking her to death nor did I drop a brick on his head." I stop for his reaction and he had wide eyes as I expected. "My so called friend and boyfriend got together behind my back. I learned it went on the entire time I was with him and became friends with her. One day I decided to bring a dessert to school I made for her... I accidentally forgot she was deathly allergic to nuts and well my brownies had many mixed nuts. I blended them so small you couldn't tell they had nuts. She ate one and well started chocking to death. I told her I'll get help but I just left her for someone else to take care of. Later in the day at home I was building something with my brother and my boyfriend came over yelling at me about what happened. I told him to leave but he refused so I made him run off throwing bricks at him as if they were snow balls. I got a go shot at his head a few times which caused a concussion and good amount of blood lost. Also memory loss."

"Huh..." He just stares at me.

"Don't worry my actions like that are based on if the person deserves it for something they did wrong to me. If you stay on my good side, you're safe." I explain to him.

"I have anger issues... court order to see Dr. Kinbott too. I got sent to a boot camp for my actions just got back not to long ago. Being there I learned that's not the version of myself I want to be." He tells me looking at the table.

"A bitter townie that blames everyone else for the shitty hand he's been dealt? You know, Tyler, you can do or did a terrible thing or things and not be a terrible person. Most see me as a terrible person at first glance and once they hear about me... but I'm not that bad when you get to know me. I do have my moments though." I make him look up at me.

"You act like you don't care but deep down you do?" He speaks so I slightly nod my head.

"I'll never physically say that though. It's too much to admit out loud." I sigh looking out the window.

"You're secret is safe with me... even though I just met you." He chuckles making me too.

"I see you made a friend." Weems walks up to us giving me a smile. "I guess you can say that." I tell her as Tyler gets up.

"She'll take a hot chocolate as well." I tell him so he goes to make her one as she takes his spot.

"How was your session?" She asks me with her smile she always puts on.

"It went well. Dr. Kinbott is much braver than the others." I tell her as Tyler brings her, her drink.

"That's nice to hear. I'm glad it went well."

"How often do we get to come into town?" I ask Weems.

"You can come anytime that's not during school hours but it's about a 25 minute walk or there's a shuttle on the weekends." She lets me know before she takes a sip of her drink.

I just nod my head to that looking out the window. We don't stay much longer and when Weems pays for our drinks Tyler tells me he hopes to see me around more.

When we get back to the school I decided to walk around the grounds stumbling across a shed in the woods. Wondering in I see Xavier sketching while listing to music so he doesn't hear or see me come in. I walk up behind him looking at what he was doing and he was really good at what he does. I tap his shoulder making him look but I move to the other side then do the same as he turns the other way taking his earbud out.

"You drew my nose wrong." I speak up making him get startled.

"Valentine." He stands up quickly.

"You made this into your little studio?" I look around at his other work.

"What are you doing out here?" He asks me.

"Just wondering around and stumbled upon this place. I came in but you didn't notice me. You're quite the artist. I do the same in my free time. I'll show you some of my work one day." I walk around then turn to face him waiting for him to speak again.

"I don't want you to think I'm creepy for drawing you." He eyes his work.

"Trust me, it's not creepy. I know creepy." I walk back over to look at it. "May I?" I motion to it to fix my nose.

"Go ahead." He lets me and I take a seat redoing my nose perfectly.

"There, now it's me." I stand up.

"I come out here to let things out on paper." He puts his stuff way.

"Why me?" I raise my head up some.

"I don't know. I just sat down, put music on and zoned out." He scratches the back of his neck.

"You have very good memory on how people look." I let him know.

"Expect your nose apparently." He chuckles.

"Yes. I'll leave you be now." I head towards the door.

"I'm coming too. Get things ready for the first day tomorrow." He leaves with me.

#wednsday addams #wednesday #xavier thrope fanfic #xavier thrope #tyler galpin #tyler galpin fanfic #xavier thrope imagine #tyler galpin imagine #enid sinclair #bianca barclay #ajax petropolus #yoko tanaka #eugene ottinger #divina wednesday #kent wednesday

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anoctoberpepper · 6 months

Text

Sparklers and Death Dice

Lark pulls a sparkler out of the box, twirls it around a few times, then jabs it into Nick’s forearm. Sparks burst to life on the tip, sizzling and cracking as Nick yelps and smacks Lark’s hand away.

“Dude!” Nick gives Lark a knock-it-off look and pulls his arm out of the other man’s reach.

Lark grins wide and mischievous.

“You’re gonna give me away,” Nick says. “To who?” Lark asks, waving his hand to motion around the Oak’s backyard. “The assembled toddlers?” Across the space there are stumbling kids, and the parents trying to keep them from falling off plastic playsets or tripping on hoses and garden plots.

“There are grownups here too, man,” Nick says.

“Oh.” Lark looks around at the small group of parents that aren’t in on the whole Nick-is-a-demon thing. It’s a small group, but it is a group none-the-less. “right.” His sparkler sizzles happily.

“Where did you find all of these people anyway?” Nick asks.

“I don’t know,” Lark says, “but Sparrow and Rebecca have friends, apparently.”

There’s a lull in the conversation long enough for one of the many children running around to pull to a stop in front of them.

“That’s so cool Uncle Lark!” Hero grins wide and stares at the fizzing toy.

“Merry christmas.” Lark hands the firework down to the kid and Hero smiles wildly and not unlike a young Sparrow. “Don’t light yourself on fire.” Lark calls after her, pretending to be a responsible adult. He watches her run in the dimming evening light. He never spends too much time thinking about Hero’s childhood, if he did then teaching her how to fight would only hurt worse, so he grabs the box of sparklers and shakes out another stick.

“Don’t even think about it.” Nick holds up his hands and steps out of the other man’s range. Lark whines pathetically, but puts the sparkler back.

“Fine.” He tucks the box safely into his back pocket and leans against the fence. Nick resets himself at Lark’s side.

“Nice to see you out of kevlar for a change,” Nick says. It’s not an understatement, the five of them have been working almost nonstop for three months. In all that time Nick hasn’t seen Lark as anything but a murderer hyped up on monster energy drinks, head-to-toe in gear, sporting at least three weapons.

“Still strapped,” Lark says. “Don’t tell Sparrow.” “He is too.” Nick shrugs. “Told me not to tell you.”

Lark laughs, short and deep, and both men glance warily up at the sky. It hasn’t been long since they switched everything, since they made the world move under their feet. It still makes Lark a little nauseous.

“Did you hear what Terry did?” Lark asks. He doesn’t have anything to fidget with since he promised Sparrow he’d leave his butterfly knife at home and the sparklers are in his pocket so he picks at the wood on the tall privacy fence around his backyard.

“I’m not sure I want to know.”

“It’s not bad,” Lark says, “Just weird.” Nick raises an eyebrow, curious.

“He rolled the dice,” Lark says.

“The Die another Day Dice!?” Nick looks impressed, shocked, scared. None of the rest of them, even Lark, has tried that. Life’s too bleak to know when he’s going to die.

“A couple days ago,” Lark says. He pulls a satisfying splinter off the wall, turns it around in his hand and presses little lines into it with his fingernail.

“That explains why he’s been staring at the doodler sunset for twenty minutes now,” Nick mumbles.

Lark looks up and follows Nick’s eyes to Terry standing in the middle of miniature baby chaos knot, holding kombucha and not moving. The porch lights flick on behind him and Lark hears Nick chuckle.

“What?” Lark asks.

“Nothing, just.--Mortals,” Nick says.

“You’re mortal,” Lark reminds sourly. A little less mortal than the rest of them, but mortal. At least they’re pretty sure Nick is somewhat mortal. A little bit. On his mother’s side. “But not like you,” Nick says.

Lark sighs,

“I know.” There’s a long moment where Lark watches Terry, then breaks his tiny piece of wood in half, then in half again. Then he says, “Will you catch us on the other side?”

Nick makes that back-of-the-mouth thoughtful noise that he picked up from his kinda dad, Glenn, then says,

“Of course- but how are you so sure you’re going to hell? Lark gives him an unamused stare.

“Terry at least has a chance,” Nick says. Lark looks back at Terry, turns that possibility over and over in his head. He doesn't know what makes a good person, at least not anymore, but Terry surely qualifies. Only problem is,

“Terry made the same decision we did. Can’t take that back.”

Nick doesn’t have any way to argue. He leans against the fence and stares. “So will you catch us on the other side, at least to say hello?” Lark asks again. Snaps the last bit of splinter that he can before dropping the wooden flakes to the ground. “I’ll catch you,” Nick says. Then noticing Lark surreptitiously sneaking the sparklers out of his pocket again says, “You can light one more sparkler…I guess”

#dnddads #dnddads s2 #dnddads spoilers #dungeons and daddies #lark oak #nick foster #nick close

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lunarxdaydream · 11 months

Text

( a few moments later )

The melody is thrumming in her veins. Butterflies silent in her stomach, the unease long replaced beneath the echo of sitars. Each pull is a new buzz reverberating off cream marble, the joining of coins adding to the symphony. A sea of faces are a blur; myriad of colors bright across tables lining the far wall. Streams hang from the ceiling, mirrored domes barely hidden nor the etched designs among them.

It is an ostentatious display. Tower upon tower of food is only halfway touched. A sparkling fountain of what she only assumed to be the local wine flowed. A range of guests dressed in their finest watched with awe; the floor free to grant dancers the necessary space to one among many performances arranged for the night.

A ‘gift’ from the Novian Empress was announced as the doors opened. Aravis and Elias, nodding their head in acknowledgement as representatives of the crown. Disappointment and regret laced her uncle’s voice as an apology was extended for Violetta’s lack of attendance. ‘Pertinent matters’ classified the reason, but she knew this is just another slight.

Skirts barely kiss the ground; spine bending back in tandem with the dancers aligned behind with her at the pinnacle. Her arms slow in their extension, wrists turning in fluid motions that blend into one. The weight of dressing in her hair felt the lower she went but the mask remained.

As the hands of musicians strike the drums, the women straighten in smooth cues. Her waist rotating in tune to the tempo, the climax building. From the corner of her eye she can spot her uncle grin, knowing what will come long before the crowd.

A phantom, they called her. A mystic to others. Siren, seductress — a creature blessed by Leysia, the goddess of beauty and the arts. The number of times it made her eyes roll when the whispers reached her. Even now as fingers rose high above her head, tips aglow before a fine mist filled the room, the whispers began. Her knees bend with a slow sinking, the body of performers moving with a calm of an undisturbed stream on a spring morning.

Each pluck of strings ring on metal of the guitars. Calloused palms soon striking the drums with growing fervor and the women answering on cue with equal passion. By now it is muscle memory to her. The guests spellbound by the dance as the mist responds with none the wiser. Flakes form and with it come gasps of awe. The flutter of excitement long replaced by dread as her hands, like many other dancers, fall by her waist where the frozen pieces respond in kind.

Loraine did not need to look at her brother to feel the nervous energy emanating from his soul. She could practically taste the bitterness of it on her tongue meanwhile Aravis radiated pure excitement. Polar opposites and yet, as the melody died in its rush, she knew he was right all along.

Faintly, she could feel the hand of the ruler take hold of the falling flakes like many in his audience. Ice melting at the natural heat of his touch.

— Poison embedding in his flesh and his alone.

Violetta’s true gift finally bestowed upon him … and if its potency is to be believed, his passing to come in three days time with not a trace left behind.

#( Loraine || Drabble )#( Elias || Drabble )#( Aravis || Drabble )#( q: with the pups )

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motownfiction · 1 year

Text

faint galaxy

Steph looks up at the dark January sky. She wonders if anybody knows she’s still here … why anyone was surprised to see her here this afternoon at all. Isn’t that what you do when the first man you ever loved dies horribly when you’re barely thirty-five? Show up to the funeral? She keeps thinking about the way Charlie looked at her from across the cemetery … like he was sizing her up, like any minute, he was going to charge her and scream out that she was only there for attention. It wouldn’t have mattered. It would have hurt, surely, but it wouldn’t have mattered. Steph knows why she came. She knows why she’s still standing here. She loved Sam from the day she met him, and she’ll love him now that he’s gone. That’s what you do when you love somebody, she thinks. You show up even when they’re gone.

It’s been a few hours since the burial. She’s a little surprised Sam wanted to be buried, but then, she remembers you get to put pretty lyrics on headstones. She can’t believe she almost forgot about his wish for The Replacements when they were eighteen. Back then, she thought it was so morbid … so concerned with borrowing faraway trouble (impossible trouble, as they would have seen it then, when dying was something that only old people could do). She can’t believe she forgot. She can’t believe she could forget anything about him, about what it was like then.

There’s no easy way out of grief for somebody you’ve always been grieving (because they didn’t want to marry you, because they didn’t want to be the next Lucy-and-Will or Sadie-and-Daniel). Steph doesn’t want to simplify it. Doesn’t want to make it all about her. Sam was a bigger person than his one life and one skeleton could handle, and Steph is not the only person reeling from this day. Death is bigger than she is. Sam’s death is bigger than she is. And she doesn’t know how to carry it all.

So she thinks she better paint it.

She looks up at the sky again, wondering if he’s there somewhere, somehow. Earlier, at the funeral, Steph heard Lucy and Will’s younger daughter say something about how Uncle Sam went to live in the sky. Steph kind of likes that. She knows Sam would prefer the sky to the ground … that she prefers the sky to the ground, too. And so she looks up even more … finds herself jumping at the moon, like she’s going to pull it down, just like George Bailey. She’d always liked George Bailey, too.

As she jumps for the sky, she thinks that’s the thing she wants most in the whole world. To fly. Maybe it’s cliché. Hell, she knows it is. But the thing about clichés is that they don’t even matter if you commit to them. And Steph is committed to this one. She pictures herself soaring way high above the world, the smallness of it. That’s the problem with living down here – in the suburbs, in Detroit, anywhere. It’s cramped. Her grief spills into somebody else’s, and by the end of the day, nobody knows whose is whose anymore. When you’re bumping into people left and right, it’s easy to forget who you are, how much space you’re allowed to take up. Sometimes, before she falls asleep, Steph dreams about painting on the world’s largest canvas. She knows exactly what she’d make.

A self-portrait.

Only it wouldn’t be literal. The older she gets, the more endeared she is to metaphor. It’s just too hard for her to see herself as a body, a face. Too many people have tried to reduce her to flesh, which in her mind is barely different from marble or clay. She doesn’t want to be a sculpture. She wants to be colors. Bursts of energy. Motions and sounds that you almost miss. Steph wants to be the kind of painting that makes you feel like you can do more than just look at it.

She jumps for the sky one more time, trying to catch a faint galaxy between her fingers.

Maybe that’s what she ought to paint.

Maybe that’s what she ought to be.

(part of @nosebleedclub january challenge -- day xii!)

#drabble #writeblr #ch: steph armstrong #year: 2003

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specificfuckery · 2 years

Text

Mother's Day is complicated for me. Most years I just celebrate my husband's mom, the mothers of my good friends, and stay quiet and thoughtful in my own small space. But this year?

My mother probably wouldn't have chosen this. She could have been one of your abortion argument thought experiments - this young white woman from a proud family was sexually assaulted by a brown immigrant and, whether by willing choice or community pressuring decided to keep the pregnancy. I suspect she was too depressed to do anything until it was too late, I suspect if she hadn't been fat and poor there might have been more help for her, more justice. (I point out my biological father was brown and immigrant because this is the chosen demon of the Right; I'll never know him but I know damn well he's not what other brown men are, and you should know that, too. Even if the Right won't accept it.) I do know that with family pressure she chose at the last minute not to give me up for adoption. This cost her. I raised myself almost as much or more than she did, and I often felt responsible for pulling her out of depressive episodes.

I would not have blamed her if she'd chosen abortion instead. She could have chosen to have a child in her own time, on her own terms. A child she could have been emotionally available for, to nurture and teach. I taught myself to read out of neglect and boredom, an elementary school teacher taught me to tie my shoes. These are the less embarrassing memories. She did her best, but it often wasn't enough.

I think she clocked me as some kind of queer early on. I remember I had a crush on a girl in kindergarten, maybe it was that, or maybe it was even earlier. She volunteered to work with and in support of AIDS patients when I was very little, and I came along when she worked. I didn't know then, but I get now that there's a different energy when there's a child in the room, and I'm glad I was able to bring that to my queer uncles and aunties. I volunteered officially when I was old enough, and eventually came out as bisexual. Mom was gracious enough to pretend it was a delightful surprise. I never got to come out as genderqueer to her, I don't know how she might have taken that.

I missed a lot of vital social training only being raised by white family. I think she tried? I had Jewish family and Middle Eastern friends she liked to bring me to visit, but ultimately most of what I learned about how to be a brown kid came from elsewhere.

She only lived to be 60. Between poverty and trauma, illness and creeping disability, she didn't last long. I'm angry the world couldn't have been better to her, kept her a little longer, even if it was often unhealthy for me to have her in my life. She deserved better. I'm still glad she missed the last 6 years.

Her story is important right now. The Right is literally attacking everything that she was and I am. She didn't choose it herself but she was vocally pro-choice, pro-gay (not just pro-gay but pro-trans; she explained pronouns to me at my first pride parade,) pro-safety net for everyone at the margins and otherwise vulnerable. She deserved better.

Understand that it's no coincidence attacks on Roe v. Wade are not coincidentally happening at the same time as attacks on trans/queer rights and bodies. There's no coincidence this is happening in the wake of state violence on black and brown bodies, of the normalization of "retaliation" against AAPI folks for a disease they had nothing to do with, a resurgence of anti-semitism, ongoing anti-islamic sentiment and attacks, and ongoing attacks on indigenous communities across the US and new attacks on ICWA. None of this is isolated. These are rising and unfortunately mostly successful attempts to curtail the rights and personhood of the most vulnerable in the US.

First they came for the socialists, and I did not speak out — because I was not a socialist.

Then they came for the trade unionists, and I did not speak out — because I was not a trade unionist.

Then they came for the Jews, and I did not speak out — because I was not a Jew.

Then they came for me — and there was no one left to speak for me.

Pastor Martin Niemöller

13 notes · View notes