#growing old and seeing his brother's legacy live on | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

verysium · 6 months

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『01』到着: arrival

ft. rin itoshi, sae itoshi

summary: the forces of nature abide by a single law: all cataclysms are creators of their own collapse. in the wake of such destruction, rin tumbles his way down to earth, and along the staircase of heaven, a new star is born. cw: mild swearing, childhood nostalgia and growing pains, rin being embarrassing, social anxiety, sae being somewhat parental, sibling dynamics, kamakura and japanese culture, spanish lessons, very dense prose (cus i suck ass at dialogue), star analogies, orange peels and other fruit metaphors, fluff but bittersweet.

word count: 6.4k

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The first word Rin learns is star.

It is spoon-fed to him in glittering globules of milk fat, dense and pooling around the gums. Stars are what he senses when rough hands slip around his torso, stuffing the nib of a plastic bottle into his mouth. He is only a week old and can't see yet, but he already knows the set of eyes he is staring into. There are tiny pinpoints of blue-green light, reflective and shiny, a mirror to his own.

The world is blurry but somehow Rin finds his own image. His newborn legs are scrunched inside a wad of cotton blankets, poised and ready to strike. Rin doesn't like being confined, but the four walls of the hospital room offer him no reprieve. He cries and bawls and screams to go back. Only the silence answers.

Rin hates this place. The world out here is a different state of mind: too bright, too loud, too much. Anything and everything has been etched into a single frame, time scorched into untouched skin. It is to the point his senses cannot handle any more.

Every morning the shadows of nurses gorge themselves on daylight, waistlines growing by the minute as they enlarge into his field of vision. They pry at the wires of his crib, brushing off invisible dust as they try so hard to make his heartbeat sync with their incessantly beating machines. His body refuses to obey. They should've known the moment he was born that he'd always be one step behind.

Rin wants to screech his head off again. This time he babbles that the milk tastes like car grease, that he'd rather die free than live in pain, but a firm hand stays the bottle between his lips, insisting on its delicacy. Rin blanches. He isn't hungry. He tries to pull away. But his mother's voice cuts through the silence, a warning.

"Sae-chan, be careful with your brother."

The two-year-old grunts, lips twisted in annoyance as he tries the balancing act of feeding a newborn with one arm. His gaze is ancient, too piercing for a child. Rin's fingers crawl up Sae's face, clumsy and blind as they grope for his nose bridge. There are stars in his older brother's eyes, ones Rin cannot reach no matter how hard he tries.

Rin ends up spilling milk on himself, crying as he drools white rivulets down his chin. If Sae could swear, he most definitely would’ve called Rin an ungrateful little shit. But Rin knows it is an honor to be born where he was. He is a legacy to someone else’s dream, both a spare and a second chance at living. He butters himself up in their nasal tongues, machinating his lips in tandem.

When his brother offers him another drink, his mouth is already open.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

It turns out life outside the womb is actually far greater than it was inside. Rin learns that real people walk and talk and grow up to find something called a purpose. He doesn't understand why the adults deem it complicated though. How could something so simple take years to discover? After all, his brother has already figured out his purpose, so why couldn't he?

"Rin-chan, you must find something to do with your life," his grandmother mentions over dinner, smoothing her weathered hands down the locks of his hair. The family is gathered around the table for tea, sitting like a portrait on the zabuton. Rin tries his best to emulate, his three-year-old spine drawn taut with practiced humility.

"Your brother has already paved the way. You can do the same, can’t you Rin-chan?"

Of course he can. Rin's heard these words a thousand times before. Sae isn't called the family's star collector for nothing. His nii-chan has already amassed tens of thousands of these five-pointed shapes, a few of which sit in a glass trophy case Rin isn't allowed to touch. He’s seen this all play out before.

A fortune teller once read their futures, thumbing her way along his brother’s palms as she spilled the very same oracles. Rin still remembers that day clearly: a morning visit to the shrine, the image scattered like water. The torii unfolded like a vermillion tongue, moseying its way down Komachi Street. He had been dressed in his little navy blue hakama, toes tucked politely into his tabi, his round eyes reflecting the world like a fisheye lens. There was much to observe from the hustle and bustle of life. Peculiar squiggly lines danced along the signage of shops. Candied lacquerware displayed themselves behind glass windows. Rin even stopped to point out the goldfish hanging in their crystal bags, giggling when the force of nearby windchimes sent each fish for a tumble. One soba stop and two taiyaki ice creams later, his small feet had grown tired from the hours of excursion, and his mother carried him on her back for the latter half of the trip home.

It was then that he spotted her.

An old lady sat in a booth by the wayside, framed by colorful curtains. His father had told him that she could foresee the future with the mere touch of her hand. Sae had gone first, holding out his palm with assured poise, as if he already knew the outcome. Rin wasn’t surprised when he heard the verdict. The old lady claimed Sae was destined to become the world’s greatest star, to bring glory to the nation of the sun. Rin didn’t doubt it if this was true at the time. His brother’s existence was proof enough. Sae’s certainty was a lesson Rin learned before object permanence, before any preconventional stage of development. Nii-chan is always one way and not the other. He is on track to do something important, and nothing can sway him from it.

That was the first truth Rin learned of this world.

Even now at the family dinner, he doesn't even need to look to know that his brother is sitting with near perfect posture, the precision of still life running through his veins. Sae is an adult before he is a child, a handcrafted figurehead for the Itoshi name. Rin lifts his chin a little higher, his toddler hands raised in firm conviction.

“I’ll follow Nii-chan! Follow him to the end of the world!”

His grandmother nods, seemingly satisfied with the answer. Rin doesn't say anything else, quiet for the rest of the night. He doesn't understand the words she exchanges with his parents, nor does he try to. Adult talk still isn't his strong suit, especially not when it concerns the future. But his mother's eyes shine wet and proud, and his father chuckles more than usual. Rin decides his purpose right then and there.

He wants to be a star too.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

The day after starting kindergarten, Rin shows off his first masterpiece, cradling two sheets of rice paper as he runs up to the front door. By the time the fusuma slides open, he has already uncrumpled his work, dramatically revealing a bold shock of color. It appeared to be some sort of assemblage, painstakingly inked in blue crayon and pieced together with painter's tape.

"That's a pentagon, Rin."

"No, it’s a star! See? 1…2…3…4…5 points! Star!"

Sae isn't amused. Rin does not know why. His brother’s eyes are hardened slats of light, the still water of an abandoned lake. There are no mouths to swallow the light, no twinkling ripples at the surface, not even the gasps of glimmering excitement. There is only the mirrored slate of the sky: one shade of blue bleeding into the next. Rin feels his stomach plummet into its depths. This isn’t the soft look of pride he wanted to see. Not in the slightest.

At first he thinks about crying, his bottom lip already curled with the onslaught of a pathetic sob. But spite unfurls in his lungs, so instead he turns his nose up with huff, trying to seem unaffected. He would be very proud of his star. And it most certainly was not called a pentagon or whatever stupid name Sae learned in his stupid math class. But apparently his older brother always had something else to say.

"Just come here and erase it. I'll show you how to make a proper star."

"But I don't want to! It's my star. It's perfect!"

Rin can hardly utter another word before Sae's glare nearly freezes the living daylights out of him. Nii-chan is scary, especially when angry. He doesn't even have a choice when he sits down at the chabudai, pouting in reluctance. Sae works out his magic on paper, crafting ley lines within the grain of paper. Rin does his best to follow, licking his lips as he guides his crayon through the dotted lines. It gets increasingly difficult though when Sae's hand echoes warmly around his own, gentle but firm in its direction. Rin tries to avoid his brother's eyes, but Sae's kindness is as disarming as his gaze. Had Nii-chan always had that crease between his eyebrows? The slight upturn of his lips when he bit his tongue in concentration?

Rin tries to trace the lines, but he ends up tracing Sae's face instead. His focus isn't even on the paper when he scribbles out a mess of incomplete pentagons, some geometric concatenation he cannot translate into real-time. Sae would have pinched his cheek, scolding him in disappointment.

Sae never did.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

The next time Rin traces a pentagon, it is on the surface of a black-and-white ball, shot like a meteorite through a football goal. His brother becomes a comet, light on his feet as he thunders down the field, weaving seamlessly between defenders. Rin can only stand on the sidelines, drowned out in his second-hand hoodie, face smushed up against the fence as he tries to get a good view. The team's been at it for hours, and Rin's pretty sure he now has the diamond imprint of chain links burnt into his cheeks.

"Somebody stop him!"

"Get after him!"

"Mark Sae Itoshi!"

There will always be someone up to the challenge of his brother's prowess, but no one ever comes close to toppling him. Rin doesn't think Sae would ever miss a single step, not when he's so far ahead. His brother is strong and calculated, absolutely unwavering in his ascent to the top. The only way Sae Itoshi could ever fall is if he buckled under his own weight, caving into himself.

Rin's eyes follow the reporters as they trail after Sae, and his nose wrinkles in disgust. They were no better than a pack of bloodhounds, desperate for a small taste of his brother's victory. How dare they? His Nii-chan outshined everyone at everything. Rin wasn't the smartest boy, but even he knew that a star could never be caught. They didn't even belong on Earth in the first place.

"Let's go, Rin."

Rin doesn't complain when his brother calls him to return home, oblivious to the media's chagrin. Like Sae, Rin is utterly indifferent to their plight, side-stepping one of the reporters who dry-heaves on his shoes in exhaustion. It was definitely their fault for failing to outrun both an eight-year-old child and his kid brother, let alone try to feast on their glittering remains. If they couldn't catch a star, they ought to eat the dust left behind. After all, that was how the world worked according to Nii-chan.

Only the best could succeed. All the rest would implode with the universe.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

It is the summer before his tenth birthday when Rin takes back every single one of those words. He is that reporter now, completely humiliated and exhausted as he collapses on the sidelines. The afternoon workout had just entirely rearranged his guts, so much so that he's foaming at the mouth, the remnants of his hasty breakfast speckled all over his cleats.

Out of every star in existence, the sun has to be the worst one. A pool of sweat trickles down his back, melting into a sticky discomfort along his nape. It’s too far up his jersey for him to do anything about, and he might just die from the sweltering heat.

Perhaps it was true that sports stars had to suffer in order to burn bright, but Rin would never wish this fate upon anybody. Sae is shouting at him from somewhere outside his periphery, insisting that the sun has never stopped revolving, that Rin has to never stop practicing if he ever plans on keeping up. But at this point, he could care less about a goddamn metaphor, let alone rub two brain cells together to interpret it.

"That shot was shoddy, Rin. Redo it."

"But it's so hot, I can't—”

"It's not hot. It's lukewarm. Redo it."

Sometimes Rin regrets ever thrusting himself into the orbit of his brother’s football dream. Playing on the world stage sounded so much easier in his head back then, but now it might as well have been an impossible fantasy. He most definitely wasn’t cut out for this line of work because his legs feel like shit, his arms feel like shit, and his whole body can’t even breathe under the thick, grimy layer of sweat. Blinking his eyes against the burning salt, Rin curses to himself. He should’ve taken that energy drink from earlier. At least the caffeine would have kept him sane. Sae snaps Rin out of his reverie, his thin voice seeping into Rin’s bones. There’s something softer in his tone this time.

“Suck it up and redo it. I’ll buy you ice cream after practice.”

There is silence. Rin stands back up, wiping his forehead as he stares his brother dead in the eye. The field has never been larger, and the goal has never been closer. And just like that, he is off, powering down the turf.

Under the supermassive gravity of his brother's ambitions, Rin becomes a supernova, his body charged with enough energy to last through entire lifetimes.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

In the oppressive sunlight, Sae's cold stare becomes a welcome sight. Augusts in Kamakura are the products of heat waves, the sun so scorching Rin can see a visible mirage above the asphalt. The heat spares no one, and Rin feels his cargo pants stick to the crease of his thighs. Even Sae’s bangs are plastered to his forehead, unusually slick behind the ears. They had just met Sae’s agent that morning, taking the Yokosuka line back from Tokyo. Sae had even left early, planning to evade the weekend’s tourists. But neither of them ever anticipated the harshness of the afternoon heat. After nearly an hour of searching, their only refuge was this 7-Eleven, some tiny microcosm practically stowed away between two utility poles.

The oba-chan at the konbini greets them with a seasoned smile, chirping with polite bubbliness as she rings up Sae’s Garigari-kun popsicles, a total of 70 yen for the original soda flavor. Rin waits demurely in a corner, eyes drawn to his brother’s silhouette. Some oji-san sits himself down nearby, fanning himself with a newspaper as he twirls a toothpick between his gums.

“Trying to avoid the heat, eh? You and your brother come here often?”

The man looks middle-aged, crowned with an artificial toupée and a cracked tooth. His eyes dart between Rin and Sae, a knowing smile plastered on his lips.

“Nii-chan and I just found this place. We don’t come here a lot.”

“Ah. Is that so? You seem awfully young to be shopping without parents. What’s your name?”

Rin doesn’t want to answer. He hates this man already, even more so his strangeness. There’s a disarming nature to his beady eyes, like he knows something Rin doesn’t. Rin looks down at the floor, his sneakers toeing a shy line across the linoleum tiles.

“R-rin.”

“Rin-kun, eh? You must look up to your Nii-chan a lot, huh? Your gaze hasn’t left him since.”

Rin feels his throat close up, cheeks flushing with heat of embarrassment. On second thought, he hates everything about this oji-san now, even down to his obnoxious friendliness. The old man winks, bending down in a conspiratorial whisper. Rin wrinkles his nose at the stale smell of beer, feeling embarrassed for even bothering to converse. This man was clearly drunk out of his mind, and Rin secretly hopes no one else is watching him. But unfortunately, the whispers are loud enough to travel across the entire convenience store, right into Sae’s ears.

“Oh-ho? Are you blushing?”

Rin vehemently shakes his head.

“Don’t worry, Rin-kun. Your secret is safe for me. You must be your brother’s little shadow, right?” The man pumps his fist out, his voice distorted in a childish imitation. “Nii-chan's number one supporter!”

Rin’s hands ball into fists at the oji-san’s teasing, his ears red to their tips. Sae is looking at him from over the cash register now, a confused look etched onto his face. Rin clenches his teeth in annoyance. Stripped bare of all defenses, he is now analyzed for what he is. Was his admiration that obvious? Did Sae know about his feelings? He didn’t want to be taken for some stupid, awestruck fool. The old man’s question is barely answered before Rin makes a break for it, the bell on the door ringing with his sudden departure.

The road outside swirls in holographic patterns, a dizzying blend of feet and socks and concrete. Rin has to take a moment to steady himself before Sae comes up behind him, armed with a plastic bag of wrappers and blue ice between his teeth. Rin licks his popsicle with caution, burning away his shame as his tongue freeze dries itself to the candied surface. Sae crunches his ice cream in two bites, an amused lilt to his voice.

“What was that back there?”

“N-nothing! I didn’t know him.”

“You’re too shy to talk to strangers?”

“N-no…H-he was just talking to himself.”

Sae gives Rin a weird look, but he doesn’t question further. Instead, his hand reaches down to slap Rin on the back of the head, ruffling the hair there until it somehow resembles a bird’s nest.

“Next time someone asks you something, just answer. Stop acting like a damn coward.”

Rin’s entire face burns with humiliation at that comment. He wishes the ground could just open up and swallow him whole. The last thing he wants to be is the laughingstock of his brother’s dry humor, but the fact that Sae rarely even cracks a joke makes this entire situation much worse. Instead of replying, Rin follows what he does best and rapidly changes the subject. His voice trembles as he stares at his popsicle handle, noting the hiragana carved into plywood. Atari.

“Ah, look. I won a prize.”

Sae’s eyes widen momentarily, pausing in his step as he looks down to check his own stick. Less than a minute later, he grimaces, tossing it away.

“Tch, don’t waste your luck on something so meaningless.”

Rin knows what Sae means. Only becoming the best matters, and with the sparse amount of luck to go around, he might as well spend it on a real victory. The Itoshis can’t afford loss, not that they’d ever know what it was. A foreign emotion flickers through Sae’s eyes, something akin to uncertainty. Rin brushes it off as a trick of the light.

The trek back home is tinged with a golden hue, the sun milder as it cascades rays down both their faces. Sae's appearance has always been unsettling, even in the mellow glow of summer. Rin recalls his mother used to say that Sae inherited all the sharpness in the family. His mother was definitely right. Sae’s nose is too straight, the slant of his brows too unnatural. If Rin took a ruler to his face, every measurement would come back scientifically accurate. Nothing about Sae is soft. Nothing about him should be comforting. But when his brother looks at him, Rin feels someone’s breath brush across his forehead, the skin still warm from the imprint of their lips.

He grips Sae’s hand tighter, knuckles looped between calloused digits. They tread silently, all thoughts of victory forgotten, the coastal breeze whispering their names into air. Rin can’t take his eyes off his brother, and, despite his lack of situational awareness, Sae notices it too.

“What are you looking at?”

“Nothing… It’s just… Back at the store… If it were you, you’d never be afraid to speak up, right?”

“Of course. There’s nothing that I fear.”

Sae’s tone is stiff when he says this, his face tilted towards the horizon. Rin almost misses the slight waver in his voice. His brother does everything to keep his word. At least that much holds true. Rin silently wishes that too would never change.

Sae always looks forward, always stares towards the skyline, always plans for the future. Not once has Rin seen his older brother look fully back at him, let alone pivot toward the direction he once came from. One side of Sae’s face is always hidden, not too dissimilar to the far side of the moon. His Nii-chan might as well be some celestial body, cast under the penumbra of his own eclipse. No one could ever know him in his entirety.

Sae’s eyes must be lonely, Rin ponders. They’re trapped on opposite ends of his face, two stars that could align but never cross. He swears to always remember the constellations in his brother’s eyes.

He'd follow them wherever they took him.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Sae has his eyes set on Spain: a land of gold, guts, and glory. The streets are somehow more burnt than its people, and the nation itself flickers with twisting tongues. It is also the only place where Rin cannot follow, and he is inconsolable.

Sae hadn’t even given a week’s notice before he broke the news on a Sunday, stating his plans factually over a family dinner. Rin nearly spit out his ochazuke right then and there, choking pitifully on his tea-steeped rice grains. Who in their right mind would willingly travel to a country that sees the sun for nearly three thousand hours a year? Perhaps Sae was immune to all natural phenomena, but Rin would rather die than train in that hellish heat. And most importantly, what was with the sudden announcement? Did his brother not even care about the people he was leaving behind?

He thought about it hard during dinner and even harder when Sae blow-dried his hair that night. They had both stepped out from the tub at the same time, arguing after their shared bath. Rin complained his brother turned the water temperature up too high every time, and Sae pointed out he was dripping water everywhere, the suds still stuck deep in his scalp. Their fingers had been at each other’s hair, clawing and tugging until their mother finally intervened, wrapping Rin up in the family towel as she knelt down to dry him. Rin stood there, an angry flush on his cheeks and his features pulled into a petulant sulk as he observed Sae clean himself with elegant precision, a quiet look on his face. Life at ten and a half was simply unfair. Rin couldn’t wait until he was his brother’s age. Apparently being a teenager meant Nii-chan could have his own towel, a custom gift embroidered with seagulls on the hem. Nii-chan could dry himself without any help from others, no longer needing his mother’s guidance. He could even leave the house if he truly wanted, and no one would come after him. Rin’s scowl deepens, glowering at Sae as his mother forces his little arms up, tugging the pyjamas over his head. In another life, he would’ve admitted that he was envious of Sae’s independence, the sheer effortless grace with which he carried himself. But Rin was too prideful to do that. A confession of his own failures was equivalent to suicide in his book.

The best he can do is bite his tongue, forcing back the angry vitriol that would have otherwise spilled from his lips. His brother stands on a stool behind him, blow-dryer in hand as he ruffles through Rin’s tresses, the nozzle spewing warm air across his forehead. Sae’s fingers are rough and heavy, riddled with calluses underneath, likely from the months of weightlifting and grip training. But as solid as they are, they are also nimble, delicate as bird wings as they gently comb through strands of hair. The hot air massages around his temples, and Rin feels the tender brush of something against his nape. He cannot tell if it was the blow-dryer or the warmth of Sae’s body behind him.

In the end, he decides he does not want to know.

By now, the water droplets have cleared from his skin, his locks rusted from a dark olive to a coarse black. Sae turns the blow-dryer to his own head, tousling his hair as he shakes out the excess moisture. Rin watches silently through the mirror, squeezing a fine line of mint paste down the center of his toothbrush. He chews on the plastic bristles as he contemplates, moving his arm back and forth in a repetitive scrubbing motion. Sae had inherited their mother’s hair and their father’s countenance, his visage a perfect combination of both genetic features. His obaa-san once remarked that the kami had accidentally spilled wine on Sae’s birthday, anointing his head in a rich maroon. In Japan, red is the color of all things joyous, a shade Rin identifies with the uchikake at weddings and the rope decorations his parents pin onto doors for good luck. But to be associated with joy, Rin finds that fact highly ironic. He has never seen Sae express any semblance of happiness before, except maybe the occasional grimace he tries to pass off as a smile.

Still, the connotation of their contrasting hair colors does little to ease the ache in his tiny chest. If Sae is the blood of an early sunrise, then Rin is the death before night. Black is not a marriage but a funeral, the makings of an era filled with fear, violence, and misfortune. In a way, Rin is the end to Sae’s beginning, both the antithesis and the complement.

A soft touch against his chin interrupts his thoughts, and Rin looks up just in time to see Sae retracting his hand, wiping the excess toothpaste off Rin’s chin. And in that moment, he wants to scream. How dare Sae try to leave him? To act like everything was alright. He said the end was another beginning when really it was just the end. There wasn’t any coming back from it. Sae would disappear off to Spain, and he would never come back. At least the version of Sae he was seeing now.

In the dim lights, Rin’s hair is darker than ever, the inky tendrils plastered around his ears like a vacuum devoid of light. He brings a death omen, a curse wherever he goes. In between the liminal space of bathroom mirror and tile, he divorces memory from mind, separating the flesh until it can last no longer. He’ll kill this memory of his brother if he has to, suffocating it in the most gruesome of ways. He doesn’t want to admit this might be the last time he’ll ever see Sae.

And most importantly, he doesn’t want to admit that he just might miss him.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Rin resolved to give Sae the silent treatment after that night, avoiding him throughout the house and acting like he was repelled by some nameless force. But his plans sadly never seem to work. The more he turns away, the more he is reeled back in, as if cast on some invisible fishing line. Now he’s here in Sae's bedroom, forty-eight hours before D-day, trying to mouth out words that aren't his own.

His brother has somehow convinced him to adopt a new language, something about how he needs to be bilingual to play in different countries. Rin didn’t understand most of it before he complied, letting himself be dragged onto his brother’s bedspread. His English flashcards sit opposite to Sae’s Spanish ones as he crosses his legs, mouthing the shapes on his brother’s lips.

Manzana. Banana. Naranja.

Translation: I am undoing everything that has ever made me whole.

In the middle of their lesson, Sae hands his brother said fruit, as if to accentuate his point. He peels the orange in a perfect spiral, thumb under the calyx as the spongy white fiber separates from ochre flesh, the pulp inlaid like jewels beneath skin. He cracks the segments hexagonally and tosses Rin the larger half.

“Naranja.”

“Naranja.” Rin repeats, curling his tongue around the foreign vowels. He catches the fruit with ease, shoving the flesh into his mouth until juice pools between teeth and his mouth is bursting with flavor. The language trickles down his throat, settling into the hollow of his larynx.

Naranja.

He looks down at his own orange, a half-imitation at best. His fingers are still stuck inside the skin, the liquid squirting into his right eye. It is sour, acrid even. The flesh has gone bad, wrinkled like soft cherries. A tangerine blooms saffron yellow beneath his nails, zest building up under the cuticle. He makes a mental note to wash his hands later.

Mi media naranja.

Unlearning, Rin decides, is a very difficult process. It makes him feel like a child again, an estrangement from his old self. Sometimes two halves aren’t enough to make him whole, and other times it is a section too much. There are many things in this world that elude his grasp. One day perhaps he will know them all. In another life, he would have been able to tell the difference between an apple and an orange, to draw the line between his half and Sae’s half. But for now, he is still discovering, still plucking and choosing, still floundering in a body he has come to hate. Rin picks up another flashcard, right next to the yellow one labeled starfruit, named estrella for each of its five points.

“What’s this one?”

“Desastre. Spanish for disaster.”

"Dis…as…star?"

"It's disaster. You have to enunciate the r."

"Dis…as…ster? What the hell even is that? Another star?"

Sae deadpans, and Rin mentally braces himself for another harsh remark, probably a brutally honest insult about his own stupidity. But this conversation has long evolved past fruits and colors and my half and your half. His brother’s eyes soften with shadows, as if bruised by something far deeper. A contusion forms beneath the surface, purpled and pained. Rin’s mind fills with confusion when Sae suddenly stares out the curtains again, his gaze strangely wistful. The room is so quiet he almost misses Sae’s answer.

"Yeah...it's a star.”

Disaster is a bad star.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

The day before Sae leaves, Rin wishes on a bad star. He wakes up at an unlucky hour of dawn, slinking past a sleeping town as he goes to find his brother on the embankment near the sea. The streets bend around this corner of the peninsula, gaping like a mouth, lips pried apart at the seams. Located between a rock and a hard place, the coast of Koshigoe Beach oscillates between two types of constant turmoil, battling the erosion of natural forces from the east while facing the gentrification of construction in the west. During early mornings, the tide is sometimes low enough to expose the rocks up to the seawall, the desiccated seaweed forming fishing nets along its edge. Occasionally, the imprints of a stranger's footsteps leave behind small pockets of water, each one a home to an assorted array of abalone and oyster shells. Rin remembers the family vacations he spent here, the storm-cloaked skies. He had been so excited to go clamming after watching every episode of Chibi Maruko-Chan. In his red bucket hat and plastic shovel, he raced to the water’s edge, his little cheeks puffed out in exertion. He had anticipated sunny weather and clear skies, the glitter of rainbow sea glass, maybe even the golden sands he had seen in many of Sae’s travel brochures. But his first impression had been one of utter disappointment.

The sand was a dull, drab grey: a single expanse of color that stretched on forever across the horizon. There were no clouds, only the stinging brittle of salt stuck inside his lungs and nestled between his toes. And to make matters worse, there weren’t even any clams in the first place, no sparkling bits of the golden treasure he had been so desperate to bring home. He felt his spirits dampen with ocean spray, his little feet coming to a sudden halt as he stared crestfallen at the waters.

Rin learned two major lessons that day. One, Maruko-chan was a big fat liar. And two, he should never believe anything that he sees on screen. Unfortunately, his folly cost him a hefty price: one tantrum on the car ride home and zero pretty seashells to add to his collection. Looking back on it now, Rin feels a strange sense of comfort in his disillusionment. In all four directions, his home is still the same greyish wash of color, unchanging as the sea and as unforgiving as its waters. At least that is something he can rely on. Nowadays, the constants in his life can be counted on a single hand, and the number of childhood remnants dwindles down to even fewer.

Still, he can recall one memory clearer than the rest.

While Rin had been busy lamenting the lack of clams, Sae had tugged him by the back of his shirt, pulling him to the wayside as he stuck his fingers into the earth. Obviously, Rin was too caught up in his misery to notice, but his sniffles soon died down when he saw the faintest of bubbles lurk beneath the sandy surface. Sae taught him how to dig, how to plant feet into the ground, how to scavenge for survival. And Rin followed without question.

Soon, a cast of translucent crabs spilled forth from the pits, scuttling in massive red tides. Rin scooped some out with bare hands, sectioning them into segments: the ruby shells of a pomegranate, dividing and dividing again. He held a hermit up to the light, a look of gleeful amazement on his features. Was it their shells that determined their shape or the tender bodies inside them? Rin could never tell. All he knew was that these crabs were a different sort of treasure, ones that he cradled gently with bare hands and shielded from the foraging gulls. They were creatures meant to be loved.

The waves now break across concrete fortifications, crashing upon cubic breakwaters. By the time Rin reaches the paved promenade near the shores, Sae is already there, feet drowned in the freezing Pacific, the shirasu swimming between his toes. He doesn’t even turn when the sand crunches with footsteps, and Rin silently curses his brother’s superior senses.

“I thought I told you not to come, Rin.”

“I know....But I still wanted to.”

In Rin’s mind, it doesn’t matter if Sae didn’t want him to be there. It doesn’t matter that he should’ve never come. He’d always keep chasing this dream if it meant he could stay. In fact, any ill omen would be better than this sinking pit in his stomach, this feeling that something was about to change forever.

The twinkles of light in the sky ripple across the sea, and Rin can’t help but see the view reflected in his brother’s visage. Sae’s eyes are like the ports of Sagami Bay, hardened with the carapace of cold comfort. Absence, Rin believes, would be his brother’s ultimate paradox. Sae could do everything and nothing all at once, and he would still be both the empty hole and the overflowing home. If eyes could be waves and faces could be stars, Sae would be the coldest, but he would also burn the brightest. Right now Rin just wants some of that warmth.

“So...you’re really leaving?”

“Yeah. I’m going ahead of you now. You better catch up.”

“Yeah, I know. I’ll do my best to become scouted like you.”

“Right. And then onto the world. The two of us will become the best there is.”

A silence hangs between them, loose as a thread. The wind whistles across the boardwalk, stirring up small spirals of volcanic sand. Sae notices Rin’s contemplative expression, following his gaze until he finds the moon still in the sky, lit up by the fading light of Polaris. Rin prays silently, knees tucked into his chest as he clasps his hands tightly together. His soft whispers are frequently interspersed by distant murmurs of the sea.

Please let Nii-chan be safe. Please don’t let him forget me.

The sunrise is about to start, one more hour until the day fully begins. Sae has to put an end to this, or else he'll never leave.

“Stop praying, Rin. They’re just stars. They'll die before your wish can come true.”

Rin peeks an eye open, unfurling from his tucked position. He looks to the stars then back at Sae, a familiar prickling in his eyes. Sae doesn’t even need to check to know that he’s crying.

“I just...” Rin’s voice wavers, “I think I’lll miss you, Nii-chan. At least send a message home?”

“Maybe. When I have the time.”

“Oh...okay.” Rin looks down awkwardly, staring at his feet before perking up again, “Do you think our dream can be achieved in a few years? I’ll come visit you in Spain! Maybe we’ll even play for Royale together.”

“You better. Don’t slack off just because I’m not here.”

“I know. I won’t.”

Rin had never been particularly good at farewells, let alone his first one. His voice is watery now, as if liquid and unable to be contained.

“Hey...Sae?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you really think we’ll make it big?”

There’s a pause in the conversation, the length of it too long for Sae’s liking. For once, certainty does not come to him as easily. But Rin already knows there is a fundamental difference to the depths of his brother’s greed. Sae’s eyes harden into flints, his voice crashing across the sandy beaches, unrelenting in its harshness but still shapelessly soft.

“We have to.”

Rin doesn’t have anything to say to that. Neither of them do. If killing himself meant living forever, then Sae Itoshi would have died a long time ago.

He would have died and become a star.

author's note: to whoever made it down here, thank you for reading the words i’ve curated at the cost of my sleep schedule. this chapter was supposed to be a purely self-indulgent one-shot about rin’s character, but it quickly devolved into a multi-chapter fic (oops.) majority of the content is pulled from the official manga, the spin-off novel translations, and occasionally my own personal interpretation. the extended star metaphor is inspired by @hanyjar (my lovely moot) and franny choi's poetry in the atlantic. while the plot follows the original canon chronologically, you can theoretically read the scenes in any order, and the vignettes are meant to vacillate between different scenes and interactions. regardless, rin seeks the same path of self-destruction throughout all scenarios, even if it means losing himself. (atp he needs to go to therapy, and i need to go touch grass.) anyways, thank you for reading, and it genuinely means a lot to see people interact with my works!

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violetszone · 1 year

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Legacy To Us

(In memory of Jules Bianchi)

Charles x fem!Jules' daughter!reader

From this request

Summary: Charles dedicated himself to you after Jules died, and this article tells the story of it...

WARNINGS: angst, fluff, not edited writing...(mostly angst)

A/n: I want you to know that if you think about making a request on this subject by overcoming this request, I will gladly write it...

Your father, Jules Bianchi, whom you never knew but loved and missed so much. You were only 2 months old when your father had this crash, both of your birthdays were on the same day, you were born like a gift to everyone's heart.The thing that upset your mother Camille the most was that you never knew your father and he only had the chance to hug you a few times.

You were 11 months old when your father died, but it was very difficult for your mother to take care of you alone, of course, the Leclercs promised to protect and watch over you as a whole family, they love you unconditionally.

Especially Charles still sometimes he remembers the first time he saw you in the hospital Charles was allowed to hold you when they came to visit the hospital the day after your birth, and from that moment on, Charles realized that you would be his whole life, and from that moment you had him wrapped around your little fingers.

You made Charles' life easier after Jules' death Charles was thanking and praying to Jules for leaving behind a beautiful angel like you even though he was gone.The fact that a part of Jules was still alive made the pain bearable for Charles.

Charles saw so much Jules in you your dark eyes, your curly brown hair and your angelic face that looks like your mother.Despite all the attention and love from those around you, you grew up to be a quiet and kind child, even a little shy around people you don't know.But that has changed since you turned 5 and drove a kart for the first time.

Charles never forced you into this, it was your idea, you might even have pushed him a little bit, it would have been hypocritical to have forbidden it when he drives F1 cars for a living. God when he sees your smile and the way putting your helmet down it was all worth it.After the kart, as you ran towards the Leclerc family, your boxer braided hair, (which Charlotte had braided for you like every time you came out of the kart), swayed in the wind. Charles was convinced that no matter how many women came into or out of his life, you were his soul mate.

While he was thinking about this, you came running and hugged him, he looked down at you and smiled and hugged you.You were everything to this 21-year-old man and he was very happy about it, when he saw you racing in the kart he realized how much you looked like your father again.And at that moment, everything passed through his eyes like a film strip the first time he held you, your first words, your tears, your laughter.

You pressed a finger on the contemplative Charles's cheek, he looked at you smiled and kissed your cheek.With every age you grew up, his love for you grew twice as much.As long as Charles was near, you almost never yearned for a father, of course you dreamed of growing up with Jules, but Charles was with you every moment and he was like a brother and a father to you, you really admired him.You knew he would do anything for you and it was comforting.

You grew up aware of everything. Even though it seems like a big word for a 5-year-old girl, you didn't know if you would have been such a happy child if Charles wasn't there. The things your mother could give you were limited, but your father's family and Leclercs especially Charles took care of you very much and for that reason you were grateful to them.

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sailor-aviator · 8 months

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Don't Hang'em Til Noon: Chapter Two

Pairing: Jake "Hangman Seresin x Reader

Summary: Jake "Hangman" Seresin is a notorious leader within the Dagger Gang of the old western territories of the United States. You, a recently orphaned socialite from the eastern seaboard, find yourself swept off to live with your older brother who has set down roots in said western territory. Determined to to make the best of your situation, what will you do when said outlaw sets his sights on you?

Warnings: Language, Jake flirting, nothing else really.

Word Count: 3.2k

A/N: So, I lied. Here's another update for you all. Feel like the quality might have dropped off a little halfway since I wrote the last half on my phone at work lol I'm not sure yet if I'll have anything to post tomorrow as I work weird hours, but here's hoping! As always, reblogs, comments, and likes are greatly appreciated. My inbox is always open to chat. 18+ ONLY!! Find me on AO3 under sailor_aviator! Enjoy!

Series Masterlist || DGU Masterlist || Jake "Hangman" Seresin Tag List

“Well, this is it,” Benjamin proclaimed proudly. You looked at the house before you. It was a large, two story home with freshly painted white walls and matching white picket fence surrounding the yard. A chimney was built on both sides of the house, and a giant porch hugged the front as well as the second floor. A barn sat further down the path that led to your new home, and a simple wooden fence stretched even further.

“It’s beautiful, Benji,” you started, “but how much land did you purchase?”

Benjamin rubbed his neck sheepishly. “About one thousand acres.”

Your breath caught in your throat. “One thousand acres? Benji!”

“Hear me out, Scout,” he pleaded. “The cattle we raise will bring in even more money. We can establish a legacy here!”

“We already had a legacy,” you muttered, and Benjamin fixed you with soft, pleading eyes. You sighed. “You don’t even know the first thing about raising cattle.”

He perked up. “Oh, Maverick said he’d teach me all I need to know. Even made suggestions on who to hire as ranch hands when the time comes. He’s the one that convinced me to seek out my fortunes.”

“Was he now?” you murmured, already plotting what you were going to say to the town’s founder when you met him.

“I know what you’re thinking,” said Benjamin, and you glanced up at him. “But this will be good for us, Scout. We’ll be a part of history and expanding our country. Making it better.”

You hummed, and he continued with a sigh. “The truth is, Scout, my firm isn’t making as much money as I had hoped out here. Ranching will help bolster our income until I can become more established in these parts.”

You sighed, knowing there wasn’t much you could say in argument. Instead, you turned back to look at the house, shadows growing darker as the sun finally disappeared below the horizon. “Let’s go then. I’m eager to see the new house.”

Benjamin practically skipped up to the house, holding the door open for you as you stepped inside. It was much grander than you were expecting. Wooden floors gave way to a grand staircase that turned into the next floor. You made your way through one of the archways and found yourself in the parlor. Your familiy’s furniture already decorate the room, and you brushed your fingers gently over the top of the grand piano in the corner. Continuing, you found yourself standing in a large kitchen, one of the fireplaces taking up a large portion of the far wall.

“If you’re hungry, I think Natasha left some stew for us,” Benjamin, striding over to where a pot hung above the small fire. You raised an eyebrow, barely containing your smirk.

“Does Natasha cook for you often?”

You saw a blush creep its way onto your brother’s face as he straightened up to look at you with a small pout. “I don’t see how that’s any of your business.”

You chuckled and waved a hand dismissively. “I’m only teasing, Benji. But, no. I’m not hungry at the moment. I’d much rather get some rest after my long day of travel.”

Benjamin nodded and led you up the stairs. He stopped in front of the second door on the right, opening it and gesturing for you to step inside. Doing so, you saw your familiar pieces of furniture that you had shipped off weeks ago. Your hand mirror sat on your vanity, and your wardrobe door was opened to reveal your more practical, every day use dresses. You walked further into the room and up to the window. Peering out, you could faintly make out the barn and rolling desert in the sprawling darkness. If you looked harder, you could faintly see the outline of the distant mountains. Turning back to face your brother, you offered a smile.

“It’s lovely, Benji. Thank you.”

Benjamin returned your smile and gestured down the hall. “My room is two down if you need me for anything.”

“I’m sure I’ll be fine for the evening. Go on,” you waved him off. “You need your sleep just as much as I do.

“Before I forget, Maverick has invited us to dinner with him and his wife, Penny, the night after next,” he said. You nodded, letting him know that you had heard.With one last smile, Benjamin closed the door behind him.

“Benji, have you gone shopping for supplies at all, or do you send poor Natasha out to do your tasks?” you cluckled impatiently, finding nothing but a stale loaf of bread in the pantry. You had managed to collect the eggs from the chicken coop earlier that morning, and that was all that made up you and your brother’s meager breakfast.

“I haven’t the time, Scout,” he mumbled, already gathering his things for the day. “Besides, you know I’m not much of a cook.”

“How you’ve survived this long, I’ll never understand,” you said with a roll of your eyes. Benjamin looked at you with a twinkle in his eye.

“Eye rolling is not becoming of a proper young lady,” he snickered. Scowling you made to whip him with the towel you held in your hand.

“Go, before you’re late,” you hollered as he rushed out the door. Sighing, you made a mental note to teach him at least some of the basics in the upcoming days. Turning, you marchd back into the pantry and looked at the empty shelves disdainfully with hand on your hips.

“Honestly,” you muttered, exasperated at how incompetent your brother seemed at doing the most basic of things. You made a list of things you would need in the upcoming days, and walked out to take another look at the house. As much as your brother could fumble on the small things, he did have an eye for home decor. There were very few pieces of furniture you wanted to move around across the whole house, and you made another mental note to let Benjamin know that evening when he returned.

Walking out the front door with a basket in hand for your supplies, your eyes were drawn to a small patch of the front yard that had been fenced off. How you hadn’t noticed it the night before was beyond you, and you chose to chalk it up to fatigue from your journey. You walked over and saw several gardening tools scattered along the ground. You realized this must have been the garden Benjamin had mentioned yesterday to you in his excitement.You added seeds to your list of supplies for the day.

You turned away from the garden and made sure to latch the gate to your front yard securely before strolling down the path into town.

Today was much like yesterday had been. People walking up and down the streets, shouting at one another in greeting, and children still running about. You wondered why they weren’t in school at this time of day. You resolved yourself to asking Maverick about it the next evening at dinner. Turning down on to the main street, you stepped onto the porch of the general store. Across the street at the saloon, you saw a group of men gathered by the enterance. One of them turned and saw you, and you supressed an eye roll when he lout out a long whistle.

“Hey there, darlin’!” he called out to you. He was handsome, you’d give him that. His dark skin glowed in the sunlight and you could make out his white smile from across the road. Strong muscles were hidden by his simple, white cotton shirt and beige wool pants. A hat covered his short, dark hair. Choosing to ignore the stranger, and by extension his four companions who had turned to look your way, you walked into the general store. the owner greeted you as you stepped into the spacious room that housed a multitude of goods from different places.

“Howdy, miss!” He chirped, leaning against the counter with a smile. He was older, dark skin weathered. “Haven’t seen you ‘round these parts before. The name’s Hondo.”

You returned his smile warmly. “A pleasure, Hondo. My name is y/n. My brother is Benjamin, perhaps you know him? He runs the firm just down the road.”

“Ah, yes!” He chuckled. “The lawyer from Baltimore. Well, miss, you’re in luck! I’ve just gotten back from Independence with new goods and wears! If you’re looking more in the ways of sugar and molasses, i’m afraid you’ll have to wait until my partner, Joel, arrives back in town. Should be any day now, in fact.”

“I see, and what is that you have today?” You inquired, taking in the multitudes of crates still scattered around the counter.

“Let’s see,” Hondo thought. “I got some salt and some fine new tools from St.Louis. I also managed to trade for some fresh produce down by Independence.”

“That sounds lovely,” you smiled as Hondo began showing you his wears.

You spent about a half hour picking out the best produce Hondo had to offer, making plans to return when his partner made it back into town.

“Hondo, I don’t suppose you have anything in the way of cooking wine?” You asked, placing your new wears into your basket. Hondo grimaced with a shake of his head.

“'Fraid not, miss.” He sighed, looking out past his door towards the tavern. “But Miss Penny should have somethin’ for you to use.”

“Maverick’s wife?” You asked, unable to keep the surprise out of your voice. Hondo nodded, a look if worry on his face.

“Penny runs the saloon here in town. Normally, I wouldn’t even suggest you go ‘round that place without someone accompanyin’ you, but everyone here knows not to mess with Miss Penny. You should be safe while she’s there.”

You handed Hondo the money you owed him, and gave him a grateful smile. “I’m sure I’ll be perfectly fine.”

“Just be careful who you talk to when you’re over there, ya hear?” He called after you as you moved to leave. “A lot of real unsavory types like to prey on pretty, littke things like you!”

“I will!” You called over your shoulder. You looked across the street to see the group of men from earlier had migrated down the porch over to, you assumed, their horses. Making sure they were safely distracted, you hurried your way across the road. Trotting up the steps, you made it to the door just as the group turned around to see you. Before they could say anything, however, you marched confidently into the saloon.

You weren’t sure what you had been expecting, but it wasn’t nearly as bad as you had thought, considering Hondo’s warning. The enterior looked a tad run down, but you supposed it had been in business for a while. It was clear that it was a beauty back in its debut. A piano was shoved against the far wall and several tables were scattered across the room with a few patrons nursing different liquids. A woman came out of a back room and spotted you. She was one of the most beautiful women you had ever seen. Dark hair framed a slender face, and bright eyes looked at you with a maternal warmth you hadn’t seen in quite a while.

“Hey there, sweetheart!” She called to you. “What is it that I can getcha?”

“Hi,” you smiled, walking closer to the counter where she leaned. You could feel the stares from the other patrons on your back, and you couldn’t help but stiffen.

“Don’t you worry, darlin’,” she started, casting a stern look across the room. “No one here’ll mess with you while I’m here. Name’s Penny.”

You held out your hand when you were close enough to the bar to reach her. “I’m y/n. It’s a pleasure.”

“You must be Benjamin’s sister. You two look so much alike, I don’t know how I didn’t see it sooner,” she laughed, the lines on her face crinkling. You couldn’t help but wonder if you would look as beautiful as she did when you were her age. She took your hand and gave it a tight squeeze.

“We get that quite a bit, actually,” you chuckled, dropping your hand back down to your side.

Penny’s smile grew wider. “So, how can I help you today?”

“I’m looking for some cooking wine. Hondo mentioned you might be able to help me find some.”

“Cooking wine, huh?” She chewed her lip thoughtfully. After a moment, she nodded, turning to head back into the back room. “Yeah, I think I just got some new bottles in, actually.”

You waited while she disappeared through the door. You heard the group of men outside on the porch, and it sounded like they had moved back towards the entrance. You let out a heavy sigh, realizing that you wouldn’t be able to avoid them forever. You took a closer look at the saloon. A set of stairs led up to a second floor that must double as an inn of sorts. Your brother had told you that's where he stayed while your home was being built.

“The townsfolk here are all kind as saints here, Scout,” he had written to you in one of his many letters. He hadn’t been wrong, well, save for one person. You frowned at the memory of the tall blond and his debonair smile. The outlaw probably wooed many girls with those good looks and charming words. You would not be fooled.

At that moment, Penny appeared back around the corner with two bottles of wine and another warm smile. You took the bottles from her gratefully, and slipped them into your basket.

“How much do I owe you?” you ask, but Penny shakes her head.

“No charge,” she says. “Call it a ‘welcome to town’ gift.”

“Thank you,” you respond. You hear the group outside laugh, and you can’t stop the slight frown from etching itself onto your face. Penny notices, and offered a sympathetic smile.

“Those boys may be loud and rowdy,” she begins, “but they’re harmless. I promise. Just walk out of here with your head held high, and if they start to give you trouble, you call for me. I’ll knock their heads together.”

You nodded your head. You made your way back to the swinging doors, but stopped just shy. You willed your nerves to settle, and straightening your shoulders, you marched as confidently as you could out of the saloon.

The men were all gathered around the steps, and their conversation stopped when you stepped out. You could see them all more clearly now, and to your dismay, they were all unfairly handsome.

“Hey there again, darlin’,” grinned the man from before. He leaned in closer to you with grin. “Name’s Javy. What’s yours?”

“Coyote, you asshole,” snapped the man to his left. “Tell her our names, too!”

Javy—Coyote—rolled his eyes and muttered something under his breath that you didn’t catch.

“These here are my compadres, Bradley, Bob, Mickey, and Reuben,” he said, gesturing to each man as he said their name. He turned back to you with a smirk. “Now what about yours?”

At that moment, the saloon doors swung open, and a familiar blond strolled out with a hard set look on his face. His eyes darted from the group of men before you down to yours, and his grumpy expression melted into a lascivious smirk.

“Did you get it?” Asked the man off to your right, Bradley. Jake spared him a glance before returning his eyes to you.

“‘Course I did, Rooster,” he replied, walking closer to you. You gripped your basket harder and fixed him with a glare. “Fancy seeing you here, Scout.”

Rooster? You realized now that the Dagger Gang is who stood before you, and you suddenly found yourself feeling weary.

“Mr. Seresin,” you replied curtly, turning his smirk into a full blown grin.

“C’mon now, Scout. I thought we decided you’d call me Jake?”

“I don’t recall that being how the conversation went,” you sniffed. Navy cleared his throat from where he stood from behind you. You both looked over to find him and the rest of the squad grinning. Well, Bradley was smirking. The others were grinning.

“Is this the little spitfire you were goin’ on and and on about last night, Hangman?” Bradley-Rooster-asked, humor evident in his voice. You glanced over at Jake who had a dusting of pink spreading across his cheeks. Ignoring his friends, he looked back at you, some of his bravado returning.

“Ignore my friends,” he said, smile returning. “They don't know when to shut up.”

You hummed, “I could say the same thing about you.”

You heard a couple of snickers from behind you, and Jake cast a glare over your shoulder. Looking back at you, he continued, “Now, sugar. That wasn’t very nice. I’ve been plenty nice to you.”

You let out a noise of derision. “You and I must have very different definitions of the word ‘nice,’ Mr. Seresin.”

“If you let me,” he smirked, leaning closer so that his breath fanned over your face. Your eyes widened and your heart stopped for a brief moment at his proximity. “I could show you all the ways I can be nice.”

You didn’t respond for a moment, lost in the emeralds of his eyes. Blinking, you murmured, “Not a chance.”

You turned to the group behind you, offering them a tight lipped smile. “It was a pleasure to meet you all.”

“I have a feeling we’ll be seeing a lot more of you in the near future, sweetheart,” grinned Javy.

“Yes, well,” you smiled politely, “let’s hope not.”

You pushed past them and began making your way down the road. A hand gripped your elbow, spinning you back around so that you crashed into a solid chest of muscle. Looking up, stunned, you were once again in close proximity of Jake Seresin.

“Let me give you a ride home,” he offered, gesturing back at Whiskey. You shook your head, placing a hand on his chest to try and put some kind of barrier between the two of you. Jake took your hand in his, squeezing it tight.

“That's not necessary,” you breathed. “I live just down the road.”

“Then let me walk you,” he pushed.

“Down the street?” You snorted. Jake grinned, stroking the back of your hand with his thumb.

“A lot could happen between now and when you get home.”

“Goodbye, Jake,” you said with a pointed look, pulling away from him. You tried not to frown at how cold you felt without his presence next to you. You turned to walk away.

“I’ll wear you down one day, sugar! You’ll be in love with me before you know it,” He calls after you. You stop in your tracks, whirling around to fix him with your iciest glare.

“I am not something to be conquered,” you hissed. Jake stared at you for a long minute, a different kind of smile creeped onto his face. If you didn’t know any better, you’d have said this one was almost…affectionate.

“I don’t expect you to be,” he said finally, giving you a two finger salute. “I’ll be seeing you soon, Scout.”

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hyperfixated-fan · 1 month

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I have some semi-coherent thoughts now. I want to specifically analyze that final scene and why that in particular had me bursting into tears. (I still can’t watch it without tearing up.) I use the term “analyze” loosely and really mean stick around and listen to me emotionally ramble.

FIRST of all, they hit us with grown up Omega, which automatically hits you in the feels because this is the naive, bright-eyed child we’ve watched be amazed by dirt now getting ready to head off and fight in the Rebellion.

Then, they hit us with her exchange with old man Hunter. We got that bittersweet ending in the best way possible.

This is the payoff. The Bad Batch has raised her well. She has grown up into the type of person who sees the injustices in the galaxy and wants to do something about it. It’s time for her to take up a cause and fight.

Hunter’s response. “And we want to keep you safe.”

Omega: “You have. But I’m not a kid anymore. You don’t have to worry about me.”

Hunter: “You’re our kid, Omega. You always will be.”

Admittedly, this exchange here hit me deep on a personal level as someone who’s going to be moving out very soon. It’s time to grow up and I want to do this to step into who I am meant to be. But I also know in my parent’s eyes, I’ll always be there little child. And that both warms and breaks my heart just as it does theirs.

My personal life aside, from a storyline perspective, it is adorable how Omega reassures Hunter that they have kept her safe. I mean, just look at her! Look at the bright young person you’ve managed to raise, Hunter. The father genes are strong in this one.

Omega tells him: “Hunter, you’ve all fought enough.”

This in it of itself is heartbreaking. The clones have all fought enough for a Republic that ultimately failed and discarded them. Clone Force 99 was fortunate to end up fighting for something worthwhile. For them, they fought for family and they ultimately won. And now, it is Hunter’s turn to lay down his arms to let the next generation take up the fight. And that stings because while he managed to eventually raise Omega in peace, he cannot fully shield her from having to bear the burden of war.

Honestly, I often think of Thrawn’s lines when talking to Hera and I think it’s applicable to Omega as well. “War is in your blood… You were forged by it.”

Here is Omega telling Hunter that it’s her fight. As a clone, it’s in her blood, in her genes, to fight. As a child raised on the tail end of the Clone Wars, it is her fight because she inherited it. As a person, it is her fight because she’s not one to stand aside while others are oppressed. Once again, a sign of how well-raised she is.

Hunter acknowledges Omega’s readiness, “I know you are… but I’m not.”

Oof. His admittance is a double edged sword. He knows she’s ready, he helped train her himself after all. It’s obvious he is so proud of her, but he doesn’t feel ready to let her go. Listening to his perspective really makes me tear up because it really gives insight on how my parents are handling my move. They don’t necessarily want to say goodbye but they are willing because they know I can accomplish what I set out to do.

THE HUG.

Yeah, I’m drowning in a sea of tears. This is so wholesome!

Before Omega boards her ship, Hunter is sure to tell her, “If you ever need us,

Omega need only say the word and you best believe her brothers are crossing the entire galaxy more than five times to be at her side.

And yeah, that makes me cry all the harder because I know my family will do the same.

And the goggles scene was such another bittersweet punch in the gut.

She’s definitely older than Tech was when he died, but the life she got to live on Pabu and what she’s going to do in the future is exactly why he sacrificed himself. She can live and live well. She’s forever going to be carrying a piece of him with her and carry on his legacy by utilizing the knowledge that he bestowed upon her. I’m definitely sobbing even harder. Tech girlies, I think denial is no longer an option.

Omega takes off in her ship and her theme swells in the background and it a scene of pure art and emotion. Batcher whines as she departs and I am so sad that Omega didn’t get to take Batcher with her because it parallels how I have to leave my fur babies behind!

The Bad Batch has showed us how change greatly affected everyone’s lives and how they learned to adapt to such changes. Yet, there was the constant that no matter what happened, family is still family and you can find a way to carry on to a brighter future.

Hunter’s final lines really get me, “It’s all right, girl. She’ll be fine.”

To me, I can almost take it as a message for myself. As the Bad Batch draws to a close and Omega steps into a new chapter, so must I. It’s rather daunting, but you know what, I’m gonna be fine and I’m gonna make it.

Whatever you are going through, just know you’re going to be fine as well.

#star wars #the bad batch #tbb #tbb spoilers #tbb hunter #clone trooper hunter #tbb omega #tbb tech #clone trooper tech

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itsabouttimex2 · 1 month

Note

Plot Idea: Azure Lion unknowingly had a child with his lover before his defeat and death at the hands of Sun Wukong. Subsequently leaving his lover (and future Cub) to live on without him. Maybe their mother passes away during their birth? The kid long out lives their human family and their friends and their village.

Alone, sad and bored they go off on their own to explore the city that they’ve heard traveler’s passing through their village speak off. Megapolis is a bit overwhelming for them at first but they come across Pigsy’s Noodles. Pigsy seeing this borderline feral kid looking in his shop hesitated on shooing them away and offers them some food, a few years later MK arrives and the rest is history…

They finally meet Azure with MK and Mei trying to get the scroll. The kid has no idea that he’s their dad and Azure is just shocked to see them. He sees both himself and his old lover in their features.

His kid feels extra betrayed and he can see it in their eyes when the group confronts the now reunited brotherhood. They are 100% on MK’s side and don’t hesitate to fight with the group.

Maybe they land some heavy enough hits the Azure has to leave them behind or maybe he’s able to capture them and force them to come along with him and his brothers. Though with their rather vicious stubbornness they might be more of a hinderance to his quest than he’d like. Maybe he traps them in the scroll and keeps them on his waist like he does with Wukong?

I’d love to hear your thoughts about this idea 💖

Leonine Love

This is a really fun (and kinda sad) idea! I’m a big fan, actually! I loved this so much that I wrote a little (admittedly, non-yandere) intro because this is such a creative and interesting story idea.

Just… Lion!Y/N being pried from the arms of their dead mother, taken in by humans who recall Azure not as a delusional tyrant but a hero, recalling his mighty blade and fondness for mortals. How he knelt to level with children, how he stopped to help with the harvest. Feeling as though they owe him, the village takes you in and raises your as their own, watching in awe as your leonine ears and tail come in, marveling at the cyan growths.

Through a few generations you grow from infant to child, just in time for the legends of your father’s exploits to be consigned from legend to rumor, and now all the love you were lavished with has turned to dust.

To these new folk you are more fixture than family, an ever-present individual that they merely accustom to.

No more praise or warm embraces, no further tales of your ‘heroic papa’. All that you know about him is written on an old scroll that none are allowed to touch. Each story has been carefully penned, allowing you to preserve the legacy of a father you’ve never met.

With that scroll, a notable stash of pilfered money, and the clothes on your back… you bid farewell to a village that is no longer home, trudging out to find somewhere new.

And what name do you hear again and again?

Megapolis.

A few kind strangers help you along the way, hikers and hermits pointing you to the illustrious city and sharing supplies with what they take as a hapless child.

It feels too much like how you were treated by the original villagers, a communal child to be cherished and loved. Still, you thank them and leave, still intent on seeing this city with your own two eyes.

Of course, you’ve spent all your life in a slow and quiet village, so nothing has prepared you for even a single neon billboard, much less an entire futuristic city of light and noise, electric sugar for the eyes and ears.

The photonic onslaught of blinding light sears your eyes, leaving you disoriented and dizzy. Your stomach turns in circles, empty and begging for food. A strange black post that reaches to the sky blares with sound, causing you to scatter into the back alleys.

Any note of wonder at the electric rainbows and thrumming music is dashed by now, leaving you to curl up and sob, paws clamped tightly over your ears. There’s no one to wipe your tears or ask you not to cry, no one to tell you to be strong and brave. All you can do is crawl into the nearest discarded cardboard box, feeling like a coward and an outcast as you weep yourself to sleep.

And you wake up in a cozy little store, wrapped up tight in a two-tone changpao. A scholar argues at the front counter, the porcine demon behind it looking at you cautiously.

“They’re starving, Pigsy! You can see their ribs poking out, can’t you?!”

“I can see that! I’m just not sure about feeding a demon, Tang…”

“You’re a demon! A pig demon!”

“No, that’s different! I am a perfectly respectable noodle-chef! Not some damn ‘pig demon’!”

Hic. Sniff.

The little pitiful noises draw their attention, looking upon your quivering form with split reactions.

The scholar is worried, clearly. There’s a kindness in his eyes that looks almost ancient, like it’s been passed from generation to generation. He nudges his… friend? Rival?

You can’t tell what their relationship is, really.

The pig isn’t unkind with his gaze or words- cautious, maybe a little nervous. But he grumbles to himself at the sight of tears, stomping off to his kitchen and turning on the stove.

“You better be right about this kid, Tang…”

The scholar- Tang, then, comes to you and ushers your shivering and scrawny form onto a chair, pulling the changpao tighter around you.

“It’s alright, dear,” his soft voice promises. “Just sit down and try to relax. We’ll get a nice bowl of noodles ready for you-“

“There’s no ‘we’ about this, Tang!” Calls Pigsy, his voice booming above the clatter of metal and the sizzle of oil.

Actually, they do remind you of something- the old couples in your village who had been together a little too long and thus grown sick of one another.

But those were always men and women, weren’t they?

Tentatively, you wipe your eyes and ask:

“Are you two married?”

———————————————————————-

“That’s how we met Y/N,” Tang cheerfully explains, patting your head as you fixate your eyes on the ground.

The child (or is he a toddler?) -MK, as your fathers are calling him, looks up at you, stumbling over to your slowly swishing tail. “Kitty,” he says, a new animal he’s learned from the children’s books that you gave him. Tang had gifted them to you not long after he had convinced Pigsy to take you in, and now you had given them to the new kid.

New. Younger. Cuter. No demonic features. No fangs or sharp pupils or sheathed claws.

Are you being replaced?

“Kitty,” the little one repeats, tugging on the cyan fur of your tail. “Meow.” The babbling of a toddler or at least a very young child, stilted and happy. “Kitty.”

“Very good,” Tang praises, clapping his hands to provide encouragement. “What other animals do you like, MK?”

You step out of the room just as the adorable little thing starts to make loud oinking noises.

The storage room is tiny, just big enough to fit a few people and a cleaning cart. It’s fortified in case of emergencies, serving as a tornado shelter. You’ve spent a few prospective storms in here, clinging to Pigsy and sniffling at the sound of blaring sirens. Thankfully, nothing bad had ever even come close to happening, and eventually you shifted to viewing it as almost a break from the world. Just you and your…

Guardian. Boss. Caretaker.

You want to add father to that list. But taking that first step is a terrifying ordeal, and would involve putting yourself through a potential rejection.

You don’t think you could recover from that.

Another person enters the storage room, one hand on your shoulder. It’s not rough or big enough to be Pigsy. Not warm enough, either.

“Y/N? Is everything alright?”

“Everything’s fine, Mister Tang.” Too fast. The words slur together, a falsity even by the first second you speak.

The freeloader sighs, lightly moving to tilt your chin up, meeting you eye-to-eye.

“You don’t come to hide in here when things are ‘fine’, dear. And you don’t slur your words like that, either. Why not tell me what’s wrong?”

“…do you think Pigsy likes MK better than me?”

“Wh-what? Y/N, why would you- dear, what’s going on?”

“…MK is a normal kid, isn’t he? He’s not some half-breed freak like me, and-“

“Y/N. I know you’ve been through a lot, but I don’t ever want to hear you say that again.”

A scholarly man with the build to match, Tang is far from strong. But he’s got just enough strength to pull you into his arms, letting you bury your head into the cloth covering his shoulder.

“Please, Y/N. Tell me what’s wrong.”

“I’m scared that he doesn’t see me as his child,” you gasp out, clinging to Tang. “I’m not just his sous chef, tell me I’m not just his sous chef! Dad, please-“

“Dad?”

You break down a little further, legs giving out as your body struggles with the fearful anticipation of potential disappointment. You wait there against his chest, weeping.

“I don’t mind if you see me as a father figure, dear. If anything, I’m actually flattered. You don’t need to be worried about that.”

“Not mad?” You manage to spit out, face thoroughly drenched in your own tears.

“Not mad,” he confirms, patting your head. “Now, let’s dry those tears and get you something to eat. I talked Pigsy into making grilled cheese dumplings with canned tomato soup.”

A moment to compose yourself is taken, wiping your puffy eyes.

“Pigsy hates using canned food, though. He always says: “It’s a disgrace to my profession, using canned ingredients! There’s no alternative to fresh!” and then he’ll throw a spoon at whoever asked.”

“Well, MK loves them. And you know that Pigsy can’t say no to kids.”

And Tang was the only one who got spoons thrown at him, but he left that little bit out.

“Now, come on. Let’s get you to the bathroom to clean your face up. If Pigsy asks you can just say you got peppercorn dust in your eyes and needed a moment.”

The door opens, and you see the other half of this family, Pigsy and MK.

Family.

A real one, this time. Flaws and cons and stumbles thorned all along interwoven vines of love and adoration.

It wasn’t perfect.

But it was yours.

#Not Yandere #Yet #Lego Monkie Kid #LMK #MK #Pigsy #Tang #Noodlefam #Leonine Love

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some-pers0n · 5 months

Text

Memoir of an Albatross

Chapter 1 - The Legacy of a Monster

[1] [2] [3] [4]

(Art by Loquatic)

Chapter Description: Turtle and the Jade Winglet have decided to spend a night at the long forgotten Island Palace. Turtle is petrified. This is where Albatross, the mass murdering animus, had killed dozens. But, late into the night, he spots something strange.

The Island Palace was quite possibly the last place Turtle wanted to visit. Why would he? It remains as a scar on Pyrrhia, a reminder of the dangerous potential of animus magic. A stain on the Sea Kingdom's history of what happens when animus magic goes unchecked.

Albatross was not a dragon Fathom wanted to be. A mad dragon. A terrifying murderer. An animus who could not control his own magic. Simply thinking about him made his stomach churn. Knowing that it was a possibility he could end up like Albatross horrified him. He would be better than that monster.

So, hearing that the Jade Winglet wanted to spend a night at the Island Palace was definitely something he was not interested in doing.

Unfortunately, Qibli and Kinkajou were firm in their decision to do just that.

"Oh come on," Qibli said, "it's only one night!"

"We shouldn't...be here," Turtle mumbled. "Isn't this disrespectful? I mean, we are just going to run around in a place where so...so many dragons lost their lives."

"And? It's not like they're alive to see it. They've been dead for a long, long, LONG time," Kinkajou called out. "Who cares? It's going to be fun! Trust us."

"It's supposed to be scary anyway. It's Faust's Hallow. Wouldn't it be a little fun to spend it at some creepy old palace? We rarely get together nowadays, and besides, didn't Queen Coral give us permission for this? Turtle, this is our one chance!"

Turtle reluctantly looked at her, sighing. "If you say so..."

He was never fond of Faust's Hallow. It was a biannual "celebration" of one of the forgotten brother of Imperial, Oracle, and Perception. As the NightWing legend goes, while the other dragons ascended into the night sky to become the moons, Faust remained. He was tied to the world with his earthly connections. Thus, becoming the first-ever spirit. It was the basis for SandWing spirituality, so to say that Qibli was interested in it was most definitely an understatement.

Turtle on the other talon? Well, all he could think about was death and horror. His older brothers took joy in dressing up as ghosts and scaring the living daylights out of the younger ones. Not to also mention the constant imagery of skeletons and mourning, with Coral always having a memorial for her lost daughters.

Then, of course, Albatross himself. The reason they were coming here. A legend was that Albatross's spirit had never passed on. That his soul remained at the Island Palace, restless and still just as mad as the day he died. There had been stories of overly curious and confident dragonets running home after an encounter with Albatross at the Island Palace. But, those were just silly rumours. Little myths. That's what it is, certainly.

Albatross wasn't there. How could he be? Well, the story of Faust was based on him wandering the continent for eternity. Perhaps, maybe- no. It's a made-up story. Turtle wasn't going to fall for some sort of story his brothers would tell to scare him. He already had enough sleepless nights, filled with anxiety and worry over the concept of Albatross still being around.

He's not. He's dead. This was just going to be a nice, if a bit restless, night out in the ruins of the abandoned Island Palace. He will not be scared.

They touched down on the beach around it. If Turtle remembered correctly, this was the Sunrise Beach. It was empty, completely devoid of any sort of life. The palace in front of them was crumbling and tattered. The lavish white walls were discoloured and washed out from weathering an impossible amount of storms. It was covered in moss and sea flora, with barnacles growing on the base of the palace. The light of the setting sun basked the palace in an ominous glow of oranges and purples.

A deep, horrible feeling persisted within Turtle. It made him aware of the light sensation in his claws. The tiny burning from within. Only a little ways away, tragedy had taken place. Two thousand years ago, Albatross, his great-grandfather, slaughtered twenty dragons. He carries the same power he does. Even right now, he could kill all of his friends. One stray thought and who knows what would happen.

"Well, don't just stand there!" Kinkajou bounced ahead. "We've got a whole palace to explore! I call looking on the upper floors with Moon!"

"Wh- me? Uh...okay then?" She stepped forward, following after her. "See you, I guess?" She waved to Qibli and Turtle before disappearing off into the courtyard.

"So, that just leaves me and you." Qibli rested his wing on Turtle, pulling him closer.

"Hurray..."

"Where you wanna go? If they're going up, let's check out the ground floor. Gardens. See some cool old statues that've been crumbling from age."

"What fun..."

Qibli frowned. "Hey, look. I know you're a bit freaked out. You didn't really want to come here. I'm sorry for dragging you along. But, I promise it'll be fun! There's nothing here to hurt any of us. Even if Albatross is still floating around somewhere, I'll be there protecting all of you." He raised his tail, showing off his obsidian-black barb.

Turtle awkwardly chuckled. "I don't think you can really stab a spirit."

"Are you saying I've never fought a spirit before?" the SandWing grinned confidently. "I'll have you know that, as Queen Thorn's personal guard and adoptive son, I had to fend off armies of spirits. Vengeful ghosts of dragons. Such is the way of being queen, I suppose. Anyways, I just need to fight them. Give them the ol' one-two. Beat 'em off with a stick." He swung his arm, mimicking hitting something.

He laughed, feeling his anxieties melt away. Qibli looked back at him, a soft, genuine smile on his face. "Feel a bit better?" He patted him on the back. "Right, let's go exploring."

The experience was dampened by Turtle's constant anxiety, but even then he couldn't doubt the majesty of the palace. Despite its decaying state, it was beautiful. Quiet, with only the sounds of waves crashing in the distance and the gentle trill of the breeze blowing through. Roaming the vast, empty halls was an experience to say the least.

It made him picture the nights that happened in this palace. Legends say that it was originally used for diplomats to rest, but also for parties and special occasions. Turtle, having the soul of a writer, felt his mind wander as he imagined the sorts of stories that would've spawned from such a place. The balls and weddings. The ceremonies and speeches.

...then, of course, there's the massacre, but Turtle would still rather not think about that.

After a long while of exploring through forgotten gardens, they reached the main gathering room. It was central to the rest of the palace, with several collapsed balconies around it. Dried-up ponds and steams littered the floor. In the middle of it all was a large, grand statue of a SeaWing. Despite the ruin around it all, the statue remained somewhat intact. Turtle could even make out the royal blue of which it used to be.

Off to the side was a large archway leading out onto the other beach. The setting sun was just about on the cusp of the horizon, painting the sky in vibrant oranges and yellows. The sapphire blue ocean pulled in and out rhythmically. It was as though it was the sea's own heartbeat.

"Woah..." he whispered, awestruck.

"Sure don't see places like this too often." Qibli walked ahead, eyes glazing over every detail.

"Hey!" a voice called from ahead. Turtle looked up, seeing Moon and Kinkajou on a balcony.

"What did you find?" Kinkajou asked.

"Not much. Bunch of gardens. Cool statues in them though," Qibli said. "How about you?"

"Bunch of old bedrooms," Moon replied. "Kinkajou thought she could find some treasure still. Checked all over. Nothing."

"Doesn't seem like it," Qibli said, "palace has been picked clean for centuries. Any chance for any sort of gems are probably all lost."

"Yeah..." Turtle quietly said. "Is anybody else feeling a little tired? Like they don't want to explore a big ruined palace that a bunch of dragons died in anymore and just sleep?"

The SandWing laughed. "I don't know about that."

"I'm feeling a little tired myself," said Moon. "It's been a long day of flying. I can probably lay down with Turtle if you don't mind."

"Oh come onnnn guys!" Kinkajou wined. "This is supposed to be a cool adventure for us! Sleep? Bleh! Gross! I want to stay up all night and look for all of these ghosts. It'll be fun!"

"I know, but...I just want to rest. Besides, this was all mostly for you two anyways." Moon opened her wings, flying down to the ground floor. "Sorry for being disappointingly boring..."

"No, no! It's all good." Qibli waved them off. "It's fine, really. Kinkajou and I can stay up and face those spirits ourselves. Buuutttt if you hear us screaming and calling out for help as we're being chased by a very scary old murderer dragon, you wouldn't mind helping us out, right?"

Moon and Turtle chuckled. "No, not at all." She turned her attention to Turtle. "I guess we can settle down here. I doubt we'll find a blanket of some kind."

"Ah, so we have to lie on the cold, hard floor."

"Yes, probably."

"Hey, if it'll make it up to you, I could try and find something. There's gotta be a stash of blankets that are still around," Qibli said, lifting himself into the air.

"Even after two thousand years?" Turtle asked.

"Worth a shot!" He shrugged, flying up to Kinkajou. "See ya around." He dipped his head before wandering back into the palace with the RainWing, leaving them both to themselves.

"Well, see you in the morning." Moon walked in a circle, patting the ground before lying down.

"Hey, quick question," Turtle said, "do you feel scared?"

Moon tapped her claws. "A little."

"You aren't just saying that to make me feel better, right?"

"Of course! It's just that, you know, being alone in a big palace. Makes me think about Darkstalker and that whole...thing." She sighed. "I know you're freaked out too."

"It's nothing, really. I'm just a little anxious over nothing. Spirits don't last forever, right? They move on. Pass onto some new stage of life we can't even comprehend. I doubt that he would still be here."

"He isn't, and, well, if he is, then we'll do everything to protect you."

Turtle glanced at his talons. There was a gentle tingling within them, a feeling he had only noticed when his magic was briefly taken away. "You shouldn't need to protect me."

"Hm?"

"I have magic, don't I? I should be able to protect myself. I should be the one protecting you in case something goes wrong."

"Nothing's going to happen though."

"I know, but, I still feel like I should be using it in case things happen. Stop being so scared of it. But..."

"But you don't want to end up like Albatross?" Moon asked.

He smacked his lips. "Yeah, pretty much."

She exhaled. "I'm sorry. But, it'll be a nice night, I'm sure. We can just sit and sleep if that makes you happy. The night will pass and we can listen to Kinkajou and Qibli and their adventures in the morning."

"That sounds nice." Turtle laid down next to her, yawning before resting his head against the marble floor. It'll be fine. He just has to sleep. When morning breaks, it'll all be over. When morning comes, Albatross will be gone.

He didn't know what time it was when he woke up. All he knew was that it was dark. Pitch black. Turtle blinked, his eyes slowly adjusting to the night around him.

He didn't wake up from some nightmare or anything. He didn't dream much these days. Instead, he felt a presence around him. A shift in the air. He couldn't pinpoint exactly what it was, but it was uncomfortable enough to drag him out of his sleep.

Around him were the rest of the group. Kinkajou and Moon were huddled together while Qibli held his wing over Turtle. Looks like the hunt for a ghost didn't turn out so well if they were all asleep here.

He wiggled out from under there, slowly rising to his feet. He looked around, trying to see if it was just his paranoid imagination or if there was really something amiss.

Then, off in the distance, he noticed something. A dim light. A faint glow out by the ocean up ahead.

Immediately, Turtle's stomach dropped. His mind instantly went to the worst thing possible. It was him. He was here and he was going to kill them all. Why would there be glowing right there if not for being the aura of some spirit?

No, no... It's fine. Deep breaths. It's all okay. It's probably a moonlight jellyfish. They glow in the dark. Maybe it washed up on the shore. He could help it out a little. If he did that, then maybe he'd realize there was nothing to be scared of. That there is no ghost. No dangerous, vengeful spirit of a long-dead murderer.

He steadied himself as he walked forward. He repeated to himself over and over that he's got nothing to worry about. It's all okay. He walked up to the edge of the archway, right before his talons would touch the sand.

It was a glowing dragon with a massive spear plunged right through its neck.

His weight slipped beneath his talons and he fell forward. He tried to quickly turn around and fly, but, clumsy as he was, he tumbled and was now barreling towards it. He rolled along the sand like the most terrified armadillo to walk this continent before finally stopping. He froze completely. Paralyzed. His heart pounded against his chest as he tried to comprehend what to do.

After what felt like an eternity of waiting for an attack that never came, he sheepishly looked up.

Gazing back at him were two eyes, darker than the night around them. Their scales were a sickening pale grey. The most eye-catching thing of all was the silver spear that was lodged in his throat. Its hilt was stinking out one end, with the blade poking out the other. Faded stains of blood were dotted around his body, the most being around where the spear had hit him. Outlining the body was a gentle blue light that flicked like a lit candle.

The two stayed like that, staring. Turtle did not dare to blink, fearing that one small movement would instantly set him off. This was him. This was Albatross.

"Fathom?" the spirit asked. His voice was calm, if rather confused and surprised. "No, you can't be him. Fathom must have died ages ago. You're someone new. Someone in his likeness."

"...please don't kill me..." Turtle squeaked. He wanted to say something with more meaning. Cast a spell or anything. Yet, he was trapped in his fear. He couldn't think.

Albatross's expression dimmed. "Right. You must be terrified of me. I was so distracted by you looking like my grandson that I forgot about that horrible, horrible night. That night which made me what I am now." He tapped the spear. "Though, I do think you're the one to last the longest when seeing me. Most run. Maybe they'll throw something at me or try attacking me. Never works. Can't exactly kill a ghost, now can you?" He quietly laughed.

Turtle tried speaking again, but all that came out were mere whimpers.

"Goodness, you're petrified of me. I mean, anybody would. I haven't left the palace since the day I died, but I know enough to understand. I've been there when visitors come around. They steal the things out of my own house, cursing me and what I've done. It's upsetting to know what I am remembered as, but I don't blame you for being scared. I don't blame anybody. I should be condemned for what happened."

He finally shut his mouth. The more Turtle looked at Albatross, slowly, the less fearful he was. Granted, he was still very much horrified, but there was an air to the way the spirit spoke that resonated with him. That he was being genuine.

This wasn't what he expected. He pictured Albatross, the mad animus, as a being of chaos that the world has never seen. Some dark, twisted dragon who could barely control himself. He was imagining him to be vicious, bloodthirsty, and wanting nothing more than to kill.

Instead, he seemed mournful. He spoke warmly. There was reason and understanding in his body language. Even if it was idiotic, Turtle let his guard down somewhat.

"How...what..." he stammered.

"How am I here? I couldn't tell you myself. I've never read that much on spirituality and ghosts. But, I'm the only one left here. The rest have all gone away. Yet, I remain. I'm bound to this palace. I can't leave. If there was a way, I would've found it years ago. Then maybe I wouldn't be here, scaring you."

"You sound...sad," Turtle blurted out.

Albatross snorted. "Pff, do I really? I didn't know I sounded so melancholic. I haven't had anybody to talk to in ages. You're good company. Thank you for listening to an old sea dragon ramble, even if you're still scared. I know it's not much to you, but I promise I mean no harm. I've never meant harm. Ever. It's just..." He glanced away, breaking eye contact. "I was emotional. I had no excuse. I let my own instincts and desires take over my own better wishes. Despite doing everything right and trying my hardest to avoid it, it still happened."

He looked back at Turtle. "I'm sorry for what I've done for our tribe. You can run away now. I'll just be happy I had somebody to talk to, even if it was a one-way conversation." He smiled a crinkly, awkward smile.

Turtle stared. Then, he made what should've been the stupidest decision of his life:

He stood up but did not flee. He sat there. "My name is Turtle," he said quietly.

"Turtle?" he echoed. "You aren't flying away screaming?"

"Not unless you give me a reason to, I guess?"

"Isn't looking at a dragon who's killed dozens of dragons in one night enough of a reason?"

"It...should be, but I'm not that scared of you. You seem too sad to hurt me."

"Hurt you? I'd never do that! My magic is limited. I can't do much besides lift some rocks and play around with the water." He waved his talons. Behind him, a small amount of water rose into the air, shaping and twisting into the shape of a bird. A seagull.

"Even if I could do more, I wouldn't dare to hurt another soul. I've already done enough damage," he continued.

"You confused me for Fathom earlier. Your grandson, right?"

"Yes, Fathom." Albatross's eyes narrowed. "You have the wing patterns. You're royalty as well?"

He nodded. "...and I am also an animus."

He barked a laugh. "Really? I've never believed in reincarnation, but you're the spitting image of Fathom if I've ever seen it."

Turtle shuffled his talons. "Thanks. I got that once before."

"Hm? By who?"

"A big evil NightWing who wanted to kill the entire IceWing tribe. He was friends with Fathom as well. How did I meet him if he was alive two thousand years ago? It's a long story."

"Don't we all have long stories to tell." Albatross turned his back to Turtle, staring back at the ocean. "If you don't mind, may you sit next to me? I enjoy watching the sea."

Turtle hesitated, but he followed. He joined the spirit.

It was a tranquil night. A clear sky, the moons beaming down in their full glory. The cool salty breeze brushed against Turtle. Strangely enough, he felt at peace. He never would've thought in a million years he'd say that when right beside him is the ghost of Albatross, but what can you do?

"I'm sorry if this is selfish," Albatross began, "but do you have the time to listen to an old dragon's story?"

"Huh?"

"You seem like a wonderful dragon, Turtle. You're far too sweet than what I deserve. I apologize if it's a bit much, considering how I am still a murderer in your eyes, but could you listen to me tell my story?"

"Your story?"

"My life. Nobody ever heard about it. They only see me as a monster. I am, but I can't help but want something else. I want to tell at least one dragon about it. Set it all straight. Pour my heart out if only to get everything that's been festering inside me out into the world."

"That'd be alright. I like stories."

"It's not a very happy story. There's a lot of tragedy. Too much, now that I think about it. I'm sorry."

"No no! It's alright. I do want to hear it. What life was like for you," he said.

Albatross cracked another smile. "Thank you..." He sounded as though he was fighting back tears.

He waved his talons, the water rising once more. "I suppose I should start it when it all went wrong." The water slowly began to shift into the form of a dragon. "The day when I discovered my magic."

#Anyways I'm probably gonna post the second chapter tomorrow :)#See ya then #Hope you all enjoy this little prologue of sorts #wof #wings of fire #albatross wof #turtle wof #wings of fire fanfic #wof fanfic #sp-writing

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ladyredmoon13 · 11 months

Text

DCxDP prompt

The Legacy of Carrion Crow

Ida Manson has seen many things in her days. Many good and bad things that have passed before her eyes at moments without her control. She's just glad that the creation of the Justice League was one of the good things she could see happen in her life time.

Back in her day there was no JL, and it showed; but that didn't mean there weren't heroes. There were, just not as many as there were today. And as spread out as they were they would rarely cross paths with one another. She would know, she kept tabs on all of them.

Now back when she was young the thought of a woman fighting at all let alone fighting crime was simply not excepted. That didn't stop her though. Ida started the way most heroes now began. With a crime-infested city, a father in peril, and a desire to change things for the better.

She became something of an urban legend. The Mob feared her. The streets whispered about her. The police respected her, or rather the cops who weren't dirty did anyways. Hey, what do you expect from 1960's Chicago?

Anyways she was something of a Batman in her time. A vigilante, a detective, a hero to many, and a nuisance to many more. You couldn't prove she was real but you know she existed. There was just one difference between her and him though.

She's not proud to say it, but Ida had blood on her hands. Both as Ida Manson and The Crow. The number of times she had to take out a monster not worth redemption could be counted on one hand, but it was there all the same. This was how she got the name, Carrion Crow. She thinks that's why she respected the Bat so much. He never killed. He never thought there was no other option. No other way out.

Then again Batman never looked Richard Speck in the eyes and saw no hope. She's just happy she managed to find enough evidence to put him away for life. The cops were happy about that.

Working with the cops was also how she met her late husband. He was a detective and a damn good one at that. He had a 97% conviction rate but he never bragged about it. He was just focused on doing the right thing and helping clean up the city he loved. It was no wonder he became commissioner later on.

They met on the rooftop of the old Chicago PD building. The commissioner at the time, Johnson; introduced them and later made him the liaison between the police and the Crow. They hit it off. Like two peas they were.

She shared her identity with him and he shared his past with her. She knew he was the bastard son of a mob boss and yet she didn't care. He was a good man with a good heart and that was all that mattered. The fact he didn't mind and even encouraged her to be the Crow didn't hurt either.

Time passed, and she got older. Deciding to retire was a hard decision but one she was forced to make. Only for the youngest of her two sons to take up the mantle. She was mad, downright furious when she found out.

She should have expected it, of course. Out of the two he was the one that was the most like her. Her oldest son taking after Idas' late mother. As much as that annoyed her. She still loved Jeremy but goodness he needed to loosen up.

The decision to leave Chicago was a hard one. She was born here and grew up here, but her husband wanted to live someplace a bit quieter than the bustling city in his old age. So they moved to a quiet little town almost an hour away from the city.

Leaving the house to her youngest son so that he could still use her old Crows Nest. Jeremy didn't seem to mind much about his brother getting the house. After all he and his new fiance were going to be coming with them to Amity Park.

Time passed and she lost her husband. She became a grandmother and boy did her granddaughter remind her of, well her when she was young. And boy did little Samantha love her uncle. She thought he was so 'cool' and was practically glued to him when he came to visit.

He once jokingly said that if she keeps growing up the way she is we might have another Crow flying around. He made the mistake of saying that right as little Sam skipped into the room. They were forced to lie to her. She didn't want to but Jeremy didn't know about her nightly activities from years ago. Nor did he know that his baby brother was now doing the same.

So lie they did. Sam for her credit was very smart and had known that something was up, but still let it go because her 'awesome' uncle asked her to. And because he promised her ice cream, before dinner!

Tragedy struck not long after that. Her youngest son, her baby boy died. Not as the Crow though but in a motorcycle accident involving a police car chase of three bank robbers. They were devastated, none more than poor Samantha.

Crime got worse in Chicago after that. Apparently crime bosses were smart enough to realize that the Crow was gone but not smart enough to figure out who he was. She made sure of it. She had done worse than send mobsters on wild goose chases before after all.

Soon Sam grew into a spectacular young spitfire. Much to Ida's delight and her parent's chagrin, they could get over it. After all, it was genetic. Though she couldn't say the same for that little friend for her granddaughter's.

Yes, she knew all about Danny and his little secret. She suspected as much when she noticed him acting strangely not too long after his little accident in his parent's lab. An incident that coincided with his shift in behavior and after some digging Ida found what they were hiding. She was still a detective after all. Retired as she may be, but still sharp as a tac.

She decided to help where she could. Jumping in when she knew she could get away with it. She even began teaching Sam some martial arts when things seemed to be escalating. Then the GIW showed up and things only got worse.

Ida tried to get ahold of her some of her old contacts. She even tried some that were even affiliated with the JL, but nothing went threw. For the first time in a long time Ida was afraid for her family, for her home. Danny could only do so much for this town and she could see that it was weighing on the poor lad.

He needed help. He needed someone to watch his back. Not just the way she had been for almost a year now. Ida Manson knew what she needed to do and with a little convincing, she could manage to pull it off.

Once summer came Ida and Sam would go on a little pilgrimage to Chicago. Maybe take her friends with them if they can manage it. Once there this old Crone will take them down to the Crows Nest and do what should have been done long ago.

The Carrion Crow will fly again, and this time they're not coming for mobsters and petty thieves. She's coming for the GIW.

#danny phantom #batman #dc x dp crossover #sam manson #danny fenton #tucker foley #justice league #justice leauge unlimited #justice leage of america

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topguncortez · 1 year

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Worth Fighting For | Maverick Mitchell

masterlist | One Year TG celebration

synopsis: Maverick can't help but fight for who he loves

word count: 2.5k

warnings: sexism, fighting, cursing, mentions of canon character death, oblivious friends to lovers

“Why should I have to respect her? She’s a-“

Maverick knew that it probably wasn’t a good idea to go to the O Club on a night after an exam.

He knew the whole place would be crawling with young pilots wanting to blow off steam from a stressful week of flights and studying for the exam. He also knew there would be a handful of spiteful pilots who were pissed about their exam grades. But there was no arguing a grade when every single question was multiple choice.

Maverick had a love-hate relationship with his position at top gun. He hated being chained to a classroom most days. He hated lecturing. He hated having to teach “by the book”. He hated having to answer to Ron Kerner of all people.

but he did love teaching young pilots and seeing them excel throughout the course. And he also loved getting to work with the love of his life day after day.

You and Maverick knew that there was no replacing your brother, Goose. You had been on the ground in the rec room hearing every single bit of the accident and had begged Viper to let you get on the rescue chopper. It was the worst day of your lives to go up to Carole’s door and tell her that her husband was dead.

But before the accident, the two of you were never really close. You always saw Maverick as Goose’s annoying, hotshot best friend, and Maverick saw you as his RIO’s little sister. But after the accident, everything had changed. He had been driving your brother when he died, and you saved Maverick’s life in the middle of the Indian Ocean. Maverick had found the courage later that night to ask you out, but that dream was squashed when he saw Tom Kazansky leading you to his room.

You didn’t know that Maverick had caught you that night, and he never did bring it up. The two of you both seemed to just brush off that night and continue on as best friends. Now, the two of you were both instructors at TopGun, alongside Ice and Slider.

Even though you were one of the best pilots in the Navy, the Navy didn’t seem to treat you with that kind of respect. You were the same rank as your male counterparts and had higher ASVAB and GT scores. You also graduated top of your class at the Academy. You were almost as decorated, if not more decorated than Ice. . . but because you were a girl, everyone seemed to turn the other way. You tried your best to not let it bother you, rolling back your shoulders and keeping your head held high with confidence. But some days it got the better of you, and it would be clearly drawn across your face.

“Ignore what that prick said to you. He’s just pissed ‘cause his boy failed the test,” Slider said to you, pushing a shot of tequila toward you.

You sighed, “It’s not even the fact that Captain Holloway yelled at me, it’s the fact that he did it in front of Viper. And fucking Viper just stood there!”

“Because he knows you can handle it,” Ice chimed, “He knows you can handle your own. You don’t need us for backup.”

“Well, it would’ve been nice, assholes,” You chided and grabbed the shot in front of you. Maverick watched as you tilted your head back and downed it in one go.

Everyone knew that having a legacy student in the class was going to cause some complications, but no one expected Captain Holloway to drive across base and demand to see the “half-wit instructor” who gave his son a failing grade on his exam. Iceman had originally stood up, preparing to take the fall for it, but you stood up instead, taking 100% accountability. Captain Holloway let you know how angry he was that his son had failed and was being kicked out of TopGun, his face growing red with anger and the vein in his forehead pulsing. But you just stood calmly, letting the old naval aviator get his frustration out. And when he was done yelling and insulting your intelligence, you handed him his son’s failed exam and the answer key, telling him to look through and see it for himself.

“I think I’m gonna turn in,” You said, causing groans to arise from Slider and Iceman, “Yeah, yeah, cry me a damn river.” You slid out of the booth, and retrieved your wallet to toss a couple of bills on the table to cover your drinks, “It was nice gossiping with you ladies, but I am beat. I’ll see you Monday.”

“Goodnight, Hawk,” Maverick said, as you turned to leave. You gave him a small smile before grabbing your cap and getting lost in the sea of naval officers.

The booth was silent for just a moment, and Maverick looked down at the drink in front of him, until an ice cube hit him right in the forehead. He lifted his head up and furrowed his eyebrows at Slider, who had a guilty grin on his face.

“What the fuck, Slider?” Maverick asked.

“No, you what the fuck,” Slider said.

“‘Goodnight, Hawk’?” Ice asked and Maverick looked at him confused, “She had an awful day and you say all of three words to her the whole night? What the hell is your deal?”

Maverick rolled his eyes and sat back in the booth, “You said she had it handled, and she did. She didn’t need any additional sympathy.”

“God, no wonder you couldn’t keep Charlie around,” Slider mumbled.

Maverick scoffed, before downing his beer, “I’m getting another drink.”

“Oh, me too?” Slider asked, holding up his rocks glass.

“Suck my johnson, Kerner,” Maverick cursed as he left the two pilots in the booth.

Maverick nodded to Tony as he bellied up at the bar, sliding his empty beer bottle across the dark wood. He knew that his feelings towards Hawk were very one-sided and that everyone could see it. Hell, even Charlie could see it for the short amount of time they were together. Maverick was always at your beck and call, always right by your side when you needed him. Charlie had confronted Maverick about it a couple of days before she left for DC. But there was nothing Maverick could do, you were Ice’s girl. . . well, as far as anyone knew, you were Ice’s girl.

“Did you see Commander Bradshaw was here?” Maverick turned his head slightly, seeing two of his young pilots walking up to the bar, “Can’t believe she’d even come to a place like this.”

The other pilot, a blonde one that Maverick couldn’t remember the name of, but didn’t like, smirked, “Of course, she’d be here. They gotta get her loosened up somehow.”

“What do you mean?”

“Didn’t you see who she was with? Maverick, Slider, and Ice. . . It’s not rocket surgery to know how she got her job.”

Maverick clenched his jaw as Tony set a fresh beer in front of him. He muttered thanks and slid some bills out of his wallet, still listening to the young pilots insult you.

“Did you see the way she nearly cried today? God, I wish Viper would’ve fired her,” The Blonde pilot said, “She doesn’t know her shit. She’s slow in the air. She acts like a fucking twat anytime Maverick is-”

Maverick slammed his beer bottle down, causing the two pilots to look at him. From across the bar, Slider and Ice turned their heads to see the showdown starting to happen.

“Oh Jesus Christ,” Iceman muttered, seeing Maverick’s small frame try to square up to a taller pilot.

“You two,” Maverick said, pointing between the two pilots, “Need to watch what you say about your commander.”

The Blonde scoffed, “For what fucking reason? You clearly didn’t have a thing to say when Captain Holloway was ripping her a new one.”

Maverick could feel the blood pulsing through his body as his hands started to shake with rage, “He’s her superior, you are not. You need to treat Commander Bradshaw with respect.”

“Why the fuck should I have to show her any respect? She’s a-”

Nobody heard the last part of the blonde pilot’s sentence, because Maverick had punched him right in the jaw. Gasps were heard throughout the club as Maverick grabbed the pilot’s collar, and punched him again, a sickening crack filling the air. But the blonde didn’t stay down for long, reeling his head back and headbutting Maverick. Maverick groaned, lunging forward to throw another punch, but was held back by Ice. Slider grabbed the other pilot and pulled him away from the bar.

“No more fucking scenes, Mitchell,” Ice muttered in his ear, dragging him towards the front door of the O Club.

Maverick didn’t put up any protests as Ice put him in the car, and drove down the familiar streets to your house. Instead, Maverick looked down at his split knuckles and occasionally wiped away the blood falling from his nose. When the two of them arrived at your house, Ice told Maverick to stay in the car, as he jogged up to your front door. Maverick watched out the window as you came to the door, a smirk on your face, your body clad in a silk nightgown. Then he watched the smirk fall as Iceman pointed towards the passenger seat where Mav was at. He gave you a small wave, and you rolled your eyes, walking into your house.

Ice jogged back to the car, and pulled open the passenger side door, “C’mon, she said she’ll fix you up.” Maverick just huffed and looked down at his hands, “Quit being a fucking toddler and get out of the car.”

Maverick complied and got out of the car. He walked up the steps to your front door, finding it slightly ajar, and walked in. You were already laying out first aid supplies on the coffee table, and now you had a sheer robe covering your silk nightgown. Maverick felt bad as he shuffled his feet and sat down on your couch, already knowing this all too familiar drill. You sat down next to him, your knee gently brushing his khaki-clad thigh, as you grabbed his face and turned his head towards you.

“What have I told you about getting into fights?” You asked.

“It was for a good cause,” Maverick gave you that all too sweet signature smirk. But you saw right through it, just like your brother once had, “Some pilots were talking shit about you. I couldn’t just not do anything.”

You nodded your head, reaching forward on the coffee table and getting a cotton ball. You doused it in hydrogen peroxide, then grabbed Maverick’s bloodied hand. He hissed as you touched the cleaning agent to the split skin.

“You realize you can’t punch every aviator who says something bad about me,” You briefly glanced up from cleaning his hand, “It won’t end well for you.”

“It’s a chance I’m willing to take.”

“Well I’m not going to let you,” You sighed, putting the sullied cotton ball on a paper towel. You grabbed a roll of gauze and wrapped it around his hand. Maverick could tell that there was something you wanted to say. You and Goose were the exact same; clenching your jaw and letting out small sighs when there was something right on the tip of your tongue that you wanted to say.

“Just say it,” Maverick said.

You looked up at him for a moment and then back down at his hand, “I put in my resignation letter to Viper.”

“What?” Maverick pulled his hand away from you, “Well. . . go take it back.”

“I can’t.”

“Yes, you can!” Maverick shouted, standing up from your couch, “I quit TopGun and came back, you surely can go take your resignation letter-”

“I’m not going to,” You said calmly. You let out a deep breath and patted the spot next to you for Maverick to sit. He kept his emerald eyes on you as he sat back down. You grabbed his good hand, and held it in both of yours, “I am not going to take my resignation letter back. I realized today when Captain Holloway was yelling at me, that this isn’t what I want to do. I only took the job because it was what Goose wanted. He wanted to get first so he could get the teaching job and have something more permanent for Bradley and Carole. But teaching, being chained to a classroom? It’s just not me.”

Maverick totally understood where you were coming from. He thought so many times about writing his resignation letter, but the one thing that stopped him was you and the feelings he had. But now, he wasn’t so sure if his love for teaching was enough to keep him at TopGun.

“And, normally, I would never ask this of anyone, let alone a fucking guy,” You said and Maverick snapped his head towards you, “But. . . uh. . . come with me?”

“What?” Maverick asked, his jaw slightly open in awe.

“Come with me,” You said, “You hate teaching as much as I do and I don’t think that I-”

You were cut off by Maverick’s lips on yours. You were frozen for only a split second before you kissed him back, your hands going to rest on his cheeks. He pulled back first for air, looking into those eyes that he had known to love so much. But then, it all came crashing down and Maverick realized what he had done.

“Oh my god, Hawk,” Maverick said, getting up from the couch. You tried to ignore the pang in your chest as he walked to the other side of the room, “I’m so sorry. I know that you are with Ice and that was so-”

“Wait, what? What did you just say?”

“That I’m sorry.”

“No, after that.”

“You are with Ice.”

You couldn’t help but burst out laughing at Maverick’s words. You had heard some ridiculous rumors about yourself, but this was definitely a new one. Maverick’s eyebrows furrowed as he watched tears fall down your cheeks as you clutched your belly from laughing so hard. He honestly couldn’t remember the last time he had seen you laugh like this, but it had to have been before Goose died.

“Oh God, Maverick, you are so funny,” You said, wiping a tear from your eye, “Me? With Tom?” You shook your head as more giggles fell from your mouth.

“But after the Indian Ocean-”

“He had one of my gloves in his room, I went to get it back,” You said.

“And tonight? That smirk on your face when he was at the door?”

“I thought he was coming over to watch The Shinning again,” You shrugged, “He obsessed with it and is wearing out my damn tape.”

Maverick cocked his head to the side, “So nothing is going on with you and Ice?”

“Other than his obsession with VHS player.”

“Oh God, I’m an idiot,” Maverick said, shaking his head.

“Yeah, you are,” You responded, “Now come over here and kiss me again.”

taglist: @shanimallina87 @desert-fern@mygyn @cherrycola27 @yanna-banana @topgun-imagines @startrekfangirl2233 @xoxabs88xox@bradshawseresinbabe @bradswolfe@fandom-princess-forevermore@callsignharper @genius2050

another amazing request from @a-reader-and-a-writer

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aphroditesmoon · 2 years

Text

cara mia

wednesday addams x enid sinclair

summary: Enid spends the holidays with her girlfriend's family to avoid her owns.

warnings; implications of homophobia from enid's mother.

requested by @crazyshipper67

°°°

She knew, the moment she step foot in her hometown, she'll be dragged straight to conversion therapy. Being in the comforting protection of the school didn't help much when a certain holiday lurked by the corner.

She remembered the fear drowning her as she scroll down through her mother's text messages.

disappointment,

abomination,

a lone wolf forever.

There were more of course, but as her eyes became blurry from tears and her lover had snatched her phone from her she saw nothing else.

Now as she sits next to Wednesday and opposites the infamous Addams family on the dinner table, she tries to convince herself that she's having fun.

Her uncle Fester, going in full detail of his adventures involving feeding on girl scouts, was making it a tad hard though.

She could feel Wednesdays evil, evil smile, burning through her sides.

Of course she enjoyed watching her squirming and uncomfortable.

Morticia, thank the heavens, immediately intervenes and changes the topic.

"Perhaps another time, for the tales of your endeavors, Fester."

He gets the hunt and laughs casually, "Hope I didn't scare ya kid! Don't worry, I usually avoid kids with dyed hair, too much chemicals, nggh." He laughs again and Enid forces herself to go along awkwardly, though her eyes evident with fear.

"Uncle Fester.." Wednesday's tone, a warning as he shakes his head and waves her off.

"Oh fine, fine."

The food, thankfully wasn't anything weird or some sort of dead corpse, she quite enjoys them and Wednesday looks satisfies when she finishes her plate.

Immediately after, Morticia has pulled her to the living room and brought out old photo albums of Wednesday's.

She was exactly the same was she is now besides the obvious age difference, black clothes, glaring at everyone, odd weapons as an accessory.

A specific picture of her holding a shovel in front of an open grave made Enid frown at her.

She only raised an eyebrow.

"Ah yes, her first digging kit, the perfect outlet for her growing obsessions with death at the moment." Morticia explains.

"She got started almost immediately! I think it's safe to say Wednesday's got her red thumb from me!"

Enid leans and whispers to Wednesday; "I don't even want to know what that means."

Wednesday only smirks and places a kiss on her temple.

As the collection of pictures starts to grow more ridiculous and embarassing for her, Wednesday dressed as a tree for school plays and forced into pink dresses for pageant shows her teachers signed up for.

Try as she might to pull the album from her lover's grasp, the werewolf strength always wins.

"Are you done now?" She questions as Enid finally calms down from her fits of giggles over Wednesday dressed as a shark for a costume party.

"Now, yes. But you'll be sure to know I'll be using this againts you in the future." She teases with a proud face as her girlfriend nods. "I expect nothing less."

Morticia, doubtful of the colourful girl at first, immediately softens at seeing her daughter's love for her, she had never seen Wednesday as infatuated with anyone, though it might not be obvious to anyone else. But a mother's eyes always sees.

She and Gomez has taken it to themselves to take Enid for a tour of their weaponry room.

Axes, swords, chains and even stink bombs used by ancestors of the Addams family hang from walls. Gomez had a splendid time explaining the histories and details of them.

A lot of Fester's creations also hangs there. In fact, he even has his own section.

From uncomfortableness, she grew more intrigued by the house and it's inhabitants. The peculiarity of her girl's family had interested her and had her in awe of the family legacy. They were truly one of a kind.

Her brother Pugsley, reveled in Enid's kind and sweet demeanor, a different treatment he usually gets from his sister. Wednesday was however, quick to insult his sensitivity and was immediately cut off by Enid scolding her.

Like a child being chastised by a mother, she sulks as Pugsley cheers over his newfound guardian angel.

By the end of the night she didn't need to convince herself she was gratefully for coming, she was sure of it.

Lying in the dark with her face facing Wednesday's, she feels her hand brush a hair behind her hear.

"What are you thinking about, cara mia?"

the roll of the r's send shivers down her spine, it always does when she calls her that, her rare little nickname for moments of intimacy and adoration when they're alone.

"nothing, I'm just glad I'm here, with you, and your family." Her hand goes to hold Wednesday's, their fingers intertwining.

"So am I." The monotonous girl speaks with a hint of softness only reserved for her love.

Enid let's herself fall into the comforting embrace of sleep as she leans into Wednesday's chest, automatically the dark haired girl's arms moves to wrap around her.

"Good night, cara mia."

#wednesday netflix #wenclair fanfic #wenclair #wenid fanfic #wednesday addams x enid sinclair #enid sinclair fanfic #enid sinclair #wednesday x enid #wednesday addams #addams family #the addams family #Wednesday addams fanfic

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argumentativeaxolotl · 9 months

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More Cars(humanized) headcannons bc the Formula 1 race is tomorrow and there’s something wrong with me‼️‼️‼️

This is gonna be more on like family headcannons lol

Lightning McQueen:

- he was raised in an orphanage, bouncing from home to home in Florida where he grew up

- he never really had a family growing up nor did he have close friends because he was constantly moving

- Mater was his first real best friend

- He’s abominable socially(he’s jus a little bit too much like meeeee. Yes that is a Marina & the Diamonds reference sue me)

- Doc was his first ever good, permanent father figure

- Mack is 100% Lightning’s older brother figure

- Lightning is very awkward in every familial situation you can think of since he doesn’t have too much experience. The folks in Radiator Springs claim him as their’s.

- Lightning thinks of Luigi and Guido as fun, foreign uncles

- He thinks of Flo and Ramone as the cool aunt and uncle

- Sheriff is another uncle-figure

- he sees Strip as a father figure as well

- Sarge and Fillmore are 100% the warring brothers/bickering older couple due to their varying lifestyles

- Lizzie is seen as the absolutely ancient grandmother

- He sees some of his friends as brothers(Cal, Bobby, Junior, etc)

- Red is seen as a cousin to Lightning

Chick Hicks:

- His father is a right dickhead(this is canon)

- he had a brother who used to race, but died on the track leaving Chick as the only heir of the Hicks racing legacy

- His father is an alcoholic

- His mother died while giving birth to him, yet she loved him anyways

- his mother was in the army or marines at some point and the only thing he has left are a few dated photos and her dog tags

- He was raised by his older brother, yet because of his father’s horrendous tendencies Chick grew to be more like him than his brother

- Chick’s dad is a failed racer who never made it big and was known for crashing his cars. He cared very little for Chick, blaming him and believing that Chick was the reason his wife died

- He sees his Pit Crew as his close associates and friends(his Pit Crew see him as their brother/son)

Strip Weathers:

- His brother and sister-in-law(Cal’s parents) died in a car accident leaving a 11-12-year-old Cal with Strip and Lynda

- Strip adores Cal, sees him as his own son

- He kind of sees Lightning(and Bobby) as a surrogate son too. Especially since Lightning and Cal are friends

- He comes from an extremely wealthy family with two very long lines of racing dating back decades

- Despite being rich, he and his parents had a strained relationship at best(Strip was more of a rebellious kid back in his teens and younger years) so his parents pulled a Prince Naveen and cut him off from his wealth to teach him a lesson. This is when Strip picked up racing and began to make a name for himself

- Neither he nor Lynda ever wanted kids and then Cal came into their lives and they were like “he’s our son and if anybody says otherwise they will feel the fury of GOD.”

- Tex is like a brother to him and they met in high school then went to the same college and even lived together at one point. They are the bros of all time

Doc Hudson:

- He has no living relatives left except maybe like a random cousin or something

- Lightning is his son and he will fight anyone who says otherwise

- Sally is like a daughter to him

- He adores all the residents within Radiator Springs and treats them all as his family

- He came from an extremely poor family and started off as a mechanic under his dad’s wing then he started to race and he was really good

- his dad scraped enough money for Doc to go to his first race, gaining the attention for several well-known sponsors at the time

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fabuloustrash05 · 2 years

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TMNT 2012: 10 Years Later Headcanon

Happy 10 Year Anniversary of TMNT 2012 Everyone!!

On this day in 2012, Nickelodeon officially released the first two episodes of their newest series, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles.

To celebrate TMNT 2012′s 10 year anniversary I decided to share with you my headcanon future for the turtles and their friends, taking place exactly 10 years later. With the show starting with the turtles being 15, this headcanon future of mine takes place where the turtles are now 25 years old (exactly 10 years later).

I will discuss each turtle (with the inclusion of April, Casey, & Karai) with summaries of their lives, where they are, what they do now, their relationships with specific characters, and how their lives are going, etc. Consider this a happy ending for the turtles instead of that disaster of an ending that mutant apocalypse gave us.

Let’s get started! Here’s my headcanon future/happy ending for the 2012 turtles and friends!

Leonardo Hamato

Like father, like son, Leonardo continues to lead the Hamato Clan as leader and sensei. He remained living in the sewers where he grew up, living with his youngest brother, Michelangelo. In honor of his father Leo rebuilt the Hamato Clan, building his own dojo in New York City and creating a new generation of ninjas. Though the task isn’t easy in this day and age, and his new growing clan still small, Leo works hard to continue the Hamato clan legacy, taking in many humans and mutants alike who are willing to learn and train with him.

Unlike most of his siblings, Leonardo never married, for he was so focused and dedicated to his clan that he never had time to have a serious relationship or settle down. He eventually swore off dating and pursuing romantic relationships entirely, taking a vow of chastity so he can truly focus on his job as sensei and leader of the Hamato Clan. However, despite never being married or having children of his own, Leonardo has many young students that he loves dearly that he has come to see as his own and they love and look up to him as a father figure.

When not focusing on his clan or his students, Leonardo visits his sister Karai, who moved back to Japan, to assist her in her own ninja clan, along with Slash and the Mighty Mutanimals back in New York. The three leaders all run their teams respectively and they all have a bond and strong alliance/agreement to help the other clans/teams if it is ever needed when another dangerous threat comes along, having monthly meetings to update the other teams on progress and such on specific matters. Leo also has status reports and meetings monthly with Karai and Slash on how their respective teams are doing and any updates on certain threats each team keeps an eye out for, or any new potential threats. In his spare time, Leonardo would also visit his best friend Miyamoto Usagi, who (thanks to Donnie) was able to find a way to remain in contact with one another and travel to each other’s worlds when desired. The two friends would chat, share some tea, train, and exchange life lessons to one another. It is one of the only few times Leo truly gets to relax for he is constantly working and focusing on reviving his father’s once dead clan. Sometimes Usagi even travels to Leo’s world to help him train his students and work as his second in command/assistant. Though Leo’s stress of his now busy life catches the attention of his family and friends, and they worry Leo is still putting too much pressure on himself, Leo is determined to continue his work as clan leader and even has his eyes on his niece to be his successor once she is of age.

Donatello Hamato

In his late teens (I’d say shortly after When World Collide), Donatello was offered a golden opportunity he couldn't refuse. Offered by the Utrom Queen herself, he was given a position to work with the Utrom Council, along with working alongside many more intelligent scientists all across the galaxy, exchanging their knowledge and wisdom and working on grand experiments/inventions. This was basically like college for Donnie and soon he became a well known scientist, so much so that he became the Utrom Council’s trusted scientist and adviser for all Earth and Dimension X exchanges and trades, working alongside Bishop in the EPF.

Through his own hard work, Donnie achieved many great scientific accomplishments. Some include: Perfecting retro-mutagen and offering it to any mutants who desire to return to their old lives, finding and rebuilding Fugitoid (who now works with the Utrom Council), and curing Timothy’s mutation. With Timothy now back, Donnie continues training him to be a ninja (later Timothy moved on to being a student of Leo’s dojo so he can get more proper training) and Timothy also works as Donnie’s lab assistant. Donnie’s newest project he is working on is rebuilding Metalhead, creating Metalhead 2.0, with this one looking like a robotic version of himself that he one day plans to download his subconscious into and continue living his life as a robot after his death, the same thing Fugitoid did, but Fugitoid warns him that while he does get to continue his work for an entirety, eternal life as a robot is maddening. (If you can probably tell, this idea was inspired by Mutant Apocalypse Robo!Donnie, aka the only concept from that arc that I actually liked!). His robotic plans for his future justifiable makes his family uncomfortable, the idea of him living forever while they are long gone causing Donnie to rethink his future decisions, especially when he notices it starts to worry his beloved wife, April.

After a long complicated “will they, won’t they?” and teen awkwardness, Donnie and April get together in their early adult life, with Donnie properly confessing his feelings to April before she goes off to college (check out April’s part to know a little more about that). The two happily dated throughout April’s college years and after she graduated, they got married, with Donnie being the second (and only other) brother to get married. The couple now happily live together in April’s apartment in New York, close by to his brothers, Leo and Mikey. The newly married couple are happy together and appreciate what they have and look forward to what the future has in store for them.

(Also sorry Apriltello shippers, but they never have children, the writers themselves confirmed that Donnie and April would never have kids together because it's “impossible and weird”. Their words, not mine!)

Raphael Hamato

With almost all of their greatest enemies defeated and now living in an era of peace, Raphael now lives a domestic life outside the city, a lifestyle everyone, even himself, never thought he would have. Most thought Raph would live a vigilante life, fighting criminals till the end of his days, but instead he settled down and started a family of his own. Being the first of his siblings to get married, Raphael married his true love, Mona Lisa, during his early 20s and as a wedding gift from April, now live together at April’s farmhouse, along with Chompy Picasso (who has grown quite big, the size of a large dog). Shortly after their wedding, the young couple was blessed with a daughter, a perfect mutant-turtle-alien-salamander hybrid. The news shocked everyone, for a new generation of mutants has started, hybrids! Raphael was overjoyed for he always deep down wanted to become a father and start a family of his own, but always thought it would never happen for who would want to be with a mutant freak like him? Mona Lisa proved him wrong.

After the birth of their daughter, Raph and Mona both decided to take a break from fighting criminals to focus on being parents and raising their child, but that doesn't mean they gave up fighting completely. The two still train in their free time, which is little when taking care of a 1 ½ year old. The couple plan to one day to fully train their daughter to become a strong fighter like them, even Leo has plans for his niece to one day be his successor and become the next leader and sensei of the Hamato clan once he retires, but for now, the couple want their daughter to enjoy her childhood, playing with Chompy and her uncles and aunts when they come by to visit. Raph and Mona plan to train their daughter once she reaches the age of six year old, the same age her father started training to become a ninja.

Raph works as the stay at home dad, while Mona Lisa continues her work with both the Mighty Mutanimals and for the Salamandrian military, so often that means she has to take trips off into space for short periods of time to send mission reports and other information. Sometimes, Raph joins her, despite hating space travel, so their daughter can see and spend time with Grandpa Sal. Something Raph finds important since he knows his daughter will never get to meet her other grandfather, Splinter, but he knows his father would be proud of the life and family he has now. Feeling at peace, Raphael is satisfied with the life and family he now has, but unknown to him, his family is soon going to become bigger for Mona Lisa is pregnant with their second child. Spoilers: it's a boy!

Michelangelo Hamato

During most of his teen years, Michelangelo would often sneak out to help Mr. Murakami in his restaurant, whether it's preparing food/ingredients for tomorrow or cleaning up. This went on for many years and the two bonded. Tragically, Mr. Murakami died a few years prior and it was discovered in Murakami’s will that he left his restaurant to Mikey. Mikey now owns Mr. Murakami’s restaurant and with the help of his sous chef, Ice Cream Kitty, it has become the most popular restaurant in New York and the first to serve both humans and mutants. In his free time Mikey also hosts cooking classes.

Michelangelo lives in the lair with his brother, Leonardo. As the only ones who never left home, Leo and Mikey have a closer bond with each other, but still remain in contact with Donnie and visit Raph in the countryside as well as see their niece. As for Mikey’s love life, he and Renet (who is now a fully trained and professional time master) dated for some time, but sadly the relationship didn’t last. Renet knew she couldn’t have a serious committed relationship with Mikey because of the different time periods they are from and her busy job, and Mikey wasn’t ready for a committed relationship, so the two both agreed to break up and stay good friends, but that doesn’t stop them from having a friends with benefits relationship whenever Renet comes to his time period for a visit. Mikey never marries or becomes a parent himself, but he absolutely adores his niece and spoils her to the point of it annoying Raph and often plays/babysits her all the time. He’s the fun uncle.

Michelangelo is also the biggest activist when it comes to fighting for mutants being accepted into civilization. With his restaurant he proves that mutants and humans can coexist peacefully. Mikey also is the head of rebuilding the Undercity (remember that abandoned underground city below the sewers?). With the help of the Mighty Mutanimals (who play a big part in Mikey’s campaigns and organization) the Undercity is will soon become a safe civilization for mutants to live in away from humans who have not yet accepted them (think of it like the Yokai city in rottmnt). With his restaurant, fighting for mutants rights, and head of rebuilding the Undercity, Mikey is considered the busiest and most hard working of his brothers and has gained the highest respect and admiration to all of mutant kind. They often refer to him as “The Holy Chalupa”.

April O’Neil

Before heading off to college (she majored in Journalism btw), Donnie confessed his feelings to April. April admits to him that for a while she had feelings for him too, but was never ready to confront them during those times, scared of commitment, not wanting to ruin their friendship, etc. It wasn’t until the Aeon crystal controlled her and nearly killed Donnie that April realized how much she loves and cares for him, but after that she feared it was too late and he moved on, but her doubts were proven wrong when he confessed his feelings to her. The two began their relationship while April went to college, eventually getting an internship at Channel 6 News. Shortly after graduating, April was offered an official job at Channel 6 and her and Donnie got married (She caught the bouquet at Raph and Mona’s wedding which inspired Donnie to propose a year later).

April’s psychic powers (that she has now mastered thanks to training with the Utrom Council) and ninja skills become useful for her job at Channel 6, getting the best stories and scoops that no other reporter can get. She also loves spending time with her niece, often being Raph and Mona’s babysitter, or co-babysitting with Mikey. And as for the mystery of her mother, April did her own search and finally learned the truth. Her mother was dead, killed by the Kraang during their experiments shortly after she was captured when April was little. The news broke April and also her father, but at the same time put the O’Neil family at peace, finally knowing the truth and no longer having to live a life of fear and wonder. April now lives with a peace of mind, mastering her powers, but still always ready to learn new skills to help others in her life.

Casey Jones

With April and Donnie getting together, Casey was happy for them, for in a way he knew she’d choose Donnie in the end. But in the beginning it was awkward for them, so Casey began keeping his distance from the couple for a while. Casey eventually left New York for a few years, going to college out of state with a hockey scholarship, only visiting his turtle friends and family in the city during breaks and holidays. While at school, Casey met a young woman who works at the local diner near his college (for comic fans, yes it’s Gabrielle), the two fell in love and began dating while they both attended the same university. Casey graduated from college with a business degree and shortly after discovered his college sweetheart was pregnant. The two quickly eloped and moved back to New York to raise their son, and for Casey to start his own business, a car mechanic shop (Casey found his passion in mechanics and car repair thanks to Donnie during the ep Race with the Demon in S3).

Finally back in New York with his wife and new born son, and his car repair business thriving, Casey reunites with Turtles and most importantly rekindles his friendship with April and Donnie. Casey’s life of mutants and aliens was a life his wife wasn’t expecting her husband to have (he kept it a secret from her for most of when they were dating) and at first she feared the Turtles, but slowly she became friends with them. During the day Casey works at his shop, while at night he continues his vigilante gig, something his wife disapproves of, worried that his desire to stop criminals will one day get him killed (a fear that will sadly eventually lead to his marriage’s downfall). Casey assures her that will never happen and he will be careful, but he wife still continues to worry. Casey and Raph are still best friends and hang out in their free time. Most of their hangouts involve playdates with their kids. Casey always jokes that maybe one day his son (who is now 2) will marry Raph’s daughter. Raph hates that idea. Despite some road bumps and challenges Casey still faces in his life, if you ask him, he’s living the dream!

Karai Hamato

After the official death of Shredder, Karai took the opportunity to reclaim the Foot Clan as hers and began rebuilding it to have a more honorable name. She moved back to Japan, keeping in touch with her brothers and visiting them often as she can, with her second in command/fiancée Shinigami (they got together shortly after Kavaxas’ defeat, with Shinigami confessing her feelings to Karai and she happily reciprocated). As mentioned in Leo’s section, Karai joins up in monthly meetings with Leo and Slash to discuss updates and other important subjects within their teams as a part of their alliance. The three all have a strong friendship and alliance for each other their teams.

In honor of her real father, Hamato Yoshi, Karai legally changed her last name back to Hamato, but decided to keep the name Karai. This was her symbolism to honor her family name and father, while also not erasing the memories of her past with Shredder and what led her to become who she is today. With hearing of Leo’s plan of having their niece be his heir of the Hamato Clan, this also inspires Karai to one day consider her and Shini having an heir of their own for the Foot Clan. In the mean time, Karai continues her hard work leading her still growing clan. With Shredder gone, Karai is happily free and the Foot Clan will be a proud and honorable name once again!

Bonus Lighting Round!

Slash continues leading the Mighty Mutanimals while also helping Mikey with his big projects of rebuilding the Undercity as a safe place for mutants to live in and live regular lives. As of now, he runs a small community for newly created mutants with no homes to live in peacefully until the Undercity is complete.

Leatherhead helps Mikey in his restaurant and attends his cooking classes, while Mondo Gecko is Mikey’s number one customer.

Alopex has a 4 year old son from a previous relationship with a mutant who later abandoned her and their child. Her and Tiger Claw are on better terms with each other now, but there is still some tension between the siblings that needs more time to heal. She is now living in New York and her and Slash are dating.

Sal Commander retired and is living a life of relaxing peace, and he also enjoys when his former lieutenant and “grandchildren” come to visit.

Fishface moved back to home in Brazil and continues living life as a common street thief. He formed his own street gang of thugs and is referred to as “The King of Thieves”.

Bebop and Rocksteady are living somewhere in New Jersey working as antiheroes. They’re happily married and adopted 3 mutant children, their names are Koya, Hob, and Sheena.

As for the villains, they are either arrested by the Utrom, dead, or declared a truce with the turtles and friends.

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exitpursuedbyavulcan · 2 years

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The Silver Dragon (3/?)

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Original Female Character

Word Count: 2885

Story Summary: Lady Arianwyn Targaryen, the Lady of Runestone, was seeded by her father, the Rogue Prince Daemon Targaryen, in an act of unbridled hatred, and borne of her mother, the late Lady Rhea Royce, as a desperate grasp at revenge.

Ignored by her father, and alone following the death of her mother, she is raised in King’s Landing alongside her cousin, Prince Aemond Targaryen. As they grow, the two find themselves indelibly bonded. But their lives are far from the fairy tales they read, and as tensions in the family rise, they find their paths may diverge.

Will they be pulled apart when the dragons dance?

Chapter Summary: Though Arianwyn wants nothing more than to devour the book Aemond gifted her, she finds herself tear her mind from Aegon’s taunting words. But as she recalls a difficult conversation with her cousin and lady’s maid from the night before, she decides that perhaps she does not want to be married – ever.

Warnings: Mentions of rape

Series Masterlist

The Book

Arianwyn sat at one of the great oaken tables in the library of the Red Keep, elbows on either side of the great tome before her as she pressed her balled fists into her still-flushed cheeks. She had been waiting for the answers contained in this book for more than half her life, but now that they lay before her, all she could think about was her cousin’s words.

“As soon as your father acknowledges you’re alive…”

What did it matter that Daemon acknowledge her? Had she not been taken in by the King and Queen themselves? Lived in their castle, raised alongside their own children? Was she not the Lady of Runestone, head of a noble house in her own right? Why should her fate be determined by a man she had never met?

Daemon Targaryen was across the Narrow Sea, living happily with his young wife and two daughters. According to the latest ravens, a third child would be joining them soon. Did Lady Laena even know about her stepdaughter – Baela and Rhaena of their sister? Did they care? Did they yearn to know her as she did for them?

Likely not, she told herself. Daemon had remarried before Arianwyn had seen her first full moon. He had not written to inquire about her health, nor that of her mother. He had said nothing before fleeing across the sea. Thirteen years had passed, and he had never once written to his firstborn daughter. He did not want her as part of his family.

“Aria?” Aemond’s soft voice broke her from her racing thoughts. He had been wholly silent as they raced through the stone corridors of the Red Keep, passing by her chambers to retrieve the book before coming to the library.

Now, he sat across from her at their usual table, a stack of parchment in front of him. They had been here many times before – at this same table, delighting in each other’s companionship and curiosity. True, their hours here had grown quieter in recent years. They were no longer the rambunctious children they once were. Aemond would readily admit much of the fault in that lay with him.

He was not as happy as he once was.

But he was still happy here, in their place. It was perhaps the only place he could still depend on to find comfort and respite. Here, he was never alone. Even if Arianwyn was elsewhere, he could still find her in the books. The winding rows of shelves held happy memories of their childhood, when they first delved into the paper forest in search of knowledge.

Here, they had uncovered the great tales of their ancestors and felt the great legacy that sat upon their shoulders. Only now, Aemond realized the true, overwhelming weight of that legacy.

He had been ten when he first realized his fate – that of the second son.

In all the stories they read, both of Old Valyria and the First Men, the second son never got a happy ending. Most died young, having been sent to battle in the place of their more valuable elder brother. Some survived, living to see their sibling take the throne. Of these survivors, many became valuable advisors and received the great honor of being mentioned, however briefly, alongside their King’s noble deeds. Others earned more notoriety by attempting to build their own legacy. Whether they tried to usurp the throne or establish their own lands, those men died bloody. From what he could glean from the stories, the best he could hope for was to fade into the annals of history.

Aemond had never told Arianwyn of this revelation. He knew she would not understand.

She still saw the glory and romance of these stories. And why shouldn’t she? As the only daughter and heir of an ancient Westerosi house, and a dragonriding descendant of Old Valyria, there was no doubt that her story would be a legend told for ages to come.

Until fate decided otherwise, Aemond would cherish being a small part of that legend.

Arianwyn dropped her hands from her face, draping them over the book he had given her only that morning. “What?”

Her steely eyes were more distant than Aemond had ever seen them. No girl should look that way on her nameday. “Are we going to read the book?” He asked, tapping his quill on his parchment for emphasis.

She looked down at the faded title pressed into the linen. Then, to Aemond’s delight, a smile finally came across her lips.

“You never told me how you found this,” she said, carefully prying open the ancient tome.

Aemond grinned eagerly. This was a story he had waited a long time to tell.

“I wrote to my Uncle at Oldtown,” he began. “Not Hobert – Devran, the Maester. He is an archivist in the library at the Citadel. Maesters there have been studying the Runes since the Andals first came to Westeros. I told him how important being able to understand them was to you, as the future Lady of Runestone.”

Arianwyn looked away from his bright purple eyes, focusing instead on the inscription on the book’s first page. She did not want him to see her blush.

He continued, “Devran spoke to the other archivists and the Conclave to find out if they had any information there that we did not and if he could get permission to send it here. But they had nothing to send.

“When King Jaehaerys made peace with the Faith, he ordered copies made of everything in the Citadel. Knowledge is powerful, and he did not want the Maesters to be the only ones able to wield it.“But the libraries of the Citadel were not exhaustive. A few libraries of the older houses, especially in the North, had books the Maesters considered unholy. An initiate from north of Winterfell told Devran about the library at the Wall. It is small and ill-cared for, but it has been untouched for hundreds of years. So he wrote to the Maester there – I forget his name – and found out about this.”

He reached across the table and touched the page, indicating the full title. Deciphering the Runes of the First Men: A Theory of Translation. The author’s name had long since faded. “I don’t know how accurate it is. Devran made sure I knew it was only a theory, but it is still more than you ever had before. I had my mother write to the Maester at the Wall to get it sent here. It took two months; I was almost worried it wouldn’t arrive in time.”

Hearing his tale, Arianwyn’s smile had returned in full force. That was why he had spent so long trying to find this perfect gift. There was no sight quite like that smile. It illuminated her whole face, sending a delicate sparkle into her silver eyes.

He loved looking at that smile.

“I don’t know how to thank you, Aemond,” she whispered, unable to tear her eyes from the book. “No one has ever done anything like this for me before.”

“You don’t need to thank me,” he replied, “just read.”

Happily, she did.

Hours later, both children lay underneath their table, their stiff chairs long abandoned. Instead, Aemond lay on his belly, chin resting on his crossed arms as he tried yet again to decipher the page in front of him through increasingly blurred eyes. Arianwyn lay perpendicular to him, using the flat of his back as a pillow while she sorted through the dozens of pages parchment Aemond had filled while she read aloud.

Again, they were silent. But it was not the angry silence from earlier that day nor the melancholy silence that often followed Aemond. No, this was a happy silence. Comfortable and inviting, as the silence fills the air of a fire-warmed family hall on a snowy day.

Unable to read a single word more, Aemond let his head topple onto the book in front of him.

“Aria?”

“Yes?” The shuffle of paper told him she was still committed to their task.

“Why did Aegon make you so angry? Earlier, at the party. What he said was no worse than usual.”

The sound of paper stopped, and the pressure lifted from Aemond’s back as Arianwyn sat up. She did not face him but crossed her legs and folded her arms around her.

“Because I am afraid to be married.”

“What?” Aemond shot up so swiftly that he hit his head against the bottom of the table with a loud ‘thunk.’ “But you haveto get married someday. It’s your duty. Why should you be afraid?”

Arianwyn scoffed, “And it will be your duty to go to war one day! Are you not afraid of that?”

“Of course I am,” Aemond insisted, “but that’s war, not marriage!”

“Marriage can be just as dangerous!” she whispered, too soft for him to hear. For the second time that day, her mind drifted back to the night before.

After dinner, Ser Gerold Royce had insisted Arianwyn retire to her rooms early. He claimed she needed rest to be ready for the party the next day. But when the door closed behind them, he dismissed all her servants but one. Brynna Taler, who had formerly been a lady’s maid to her mother, Rhea, was allowed to remain.

Arianwyn knew immediately that something was wrong. Gerold cared for her deeply, there could be no doubt of that, but he had always been nervous around her. She had simply assumed that, as he had no siblings or children of his own, he did not know what to say to her. Indeed, as he sat in front of her now, elbows on his knees, he seemed visibly to be struggling to find words.

Brynna, at last, stepped forward. “Tomorrow shall be an important day, Lady Arianwyn. Your cousin wishes to speak with you before the party to prepare you.”

Arianwyn looked between her cousin and her maid. “What is there to prepare for? It is a party.”

“It is not just any party,” Gerold said, speaking at last. “It is the party celebrating your thirteenth nameday. The Queen and I have discussed it, and we agree that tomorrow is the right time for you to start... meeting the young men of the realm.”

“But I have already met them,” Arianwyn said, puzzled by her cousin’s words and grim tone. “Most of them, at least. They have been to court before.”

Gerold laughed once, an uncomfortable sound. “Yes, I know. But it is time you start to… get to know them better. To consider them not just as visitors to court, but as potential companions.”

“I don’t understand,” Arianwyn said, beginning to mirror her cousin’s nerves. “I already have friends.” She looked toward Brynna, “And companions.”

The maid smiled. “Oh, my dear child. Allow me to explain.” She walked toward her ward, kneeling on the floor in front of her. “Ser Gerold and I have both feared this day, but we have put it off for too long.”

She cupped the girl’s face in her hands, savoring her innocence. “Tomorrow, the Queen shall introduce you – or reintroduce you – to many of the noble boys your age. For when the sun rises, you shall no longer be a girl but a woman coming into her own.”

Arianwyn shied away from Brynna. “I am not a woman until I am twenty-one, when I take charge of Runestone.”

“That is when you shall come into your title,” Gerold said. “But you will be a woman before then. And though I am loathe to admit it, a woman needs a husband. You need a husband.”

At last understanding, Arianwyn nodded. “So, I must meet him tomorrow.”

“No!” Both adults shouted at once.

Gerold cleared his throat, “tomorrow is only the beginning. We let the nobility know of your eligibility and allow you to meet their sons. No decisions need to be made tomorrow, nor the next day, or even in the next year. But we do need to begin somewhere, so it shall be tomorrow.”

Arianwyn nodded. She had expected a husband to come more naturally. He would save her from tripping on a dance floor or bring her wine at a ball. She had even imagined, on occasion, of saving a dashing young knight with Emrys, and together they would fly off to Runestone. She had never expected to meet him by appointment.

But she was the Lady of Runestone. To marry and bear children was her duty. No, this would not be like the stories she had read for so long.

“I understand. I will do my best to present myself well tomorrow.” She stood from the couch and began to make her way to her private chambers.

“Wait.”

Arianwyn turned back, unsure what else there was to say. But a grim look from both her companions chilled her blood. Tentatively, she stepped back to the couch and sat down. Such a gloom fell over the room that she dared not speak.

“It is time you learned how your mother died.”

Tears sprung to Arianwyn’s eyes at the memory of the gruesome tale. She had always known Daemon did not care for her, but she had never imagined the depths of his cruelty. She was so consumed by her thoughts of grief that she did not notice when Aemond crawled along the carpeted floor to sit beside her.

Noticing her wet eyes, he put an arm around her. “Why are you afraid to marry, Aria?”

She could not tell him. Gerold had told her so. They could not predict what Daemon would do if the tale got out. Besides, there was no law against a man raping his wife, and the King had never truly punished his brother before.

“I am afraid,” Arianwyn started, “because I do not want to leave. King’s Landing is my home, and all my friends are here. I don’t want to go back to Runestone with only a stranger for company.”

She supposed it was not a lie. The Red Keep had been her home since she was two months old. Except for Gerold, all her family and those she cared about were here: the King, Queen Alicent, Helaena, and Aemond.

“Then I shall come with you,” Aemond declared, sitting as tall as he could under the table. “I shall travel to Runestone with you and your husband, and make sure he is kind and treats you with honor.”

Arianwyn smiled. He had no idea how reassuring those words were, even if what he proposed was impossible. “And what will you do if he does not? If he is cruel to me?”

A fire blazed in his violet eyes, the fire of so many Targaryen kings and conquerors that came before him. “If he does anything to harm you or even make you sad, I shall cut off his head and feed it to Emrys!” he declared, entirely serious.

A brief moment of devoted silence passed between them. But in a heartbeat, both children collapsed into laughter, their studies and troubles forgotten.

Queen Alicent Hightower observed them from between two distant shelves. She had witnessed the confrontation earlier at the party but had been too deep in conversation with some Lord from the Reach to intervene. Not that her interventions had any impact on how her children behaved. Not anymore.

“Were there any tempting offers?” her father’s voice rumbled behind her. He had been sneaking up on her like this for years – she did not flinch anymore. He had only been back at court a few days – ostensibly for Arianwyn’s nameday – and already he was grating on her nerves.

Alicent sighed, hand instinctually flying to grasp the amulet around her neck. “A few. None I plan to pursue.”

“Hmm,” her father placed his hand around her shoulders to lead her away from the sharp ears of the children. “I think I best to seal her betrothal while her father remains in Pentos. We don’t want to lose that advantage.”

The Queen brushed off her father’s arm. Rage took root in her heart at the mention of Daemon, the horrific tale Gerold had relayed to her just hours ago still ringing in her ears. “Arianwyn is not a political advantage to be leveraged.” Her voice was as fierce as she would allow in the quiet of the library. “She is my niece, dear to me, and a great friend to my children – two of them at least.”

Otto blinked, raising his chin to look down his nose at her. She hated that look. He only fixed her with it when he considered her behavior foolish and immature.

She steeled herself to continue, “She is a young girl who has lost her mother and been abandoned by her father. I have no doubt that if he ever returns, Daemon will see her as a pawn for his own aims. Until she comes of age, there is little I can do to protect her from him – or any other man who seeks to manipulate her. So, I will do what I can for her while I still can.”

Not waiting for a response, the Queen swept out of the library.

Next Chapter

#aemond targaryen #aemond #aemond one eye #aemond fanfic #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond targaryen imagine #house of the dragon

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mamawasatesttube · 6 months

Note

okay, i'm going to spam today. mmm damian, jon (as he is in OUR minds), aaaaaaaand. lois.

hell YEAH lets go!! damian first:

Headcanon A: realistic

he goes to veterinary school. something something not either of his parent's legacies but something of his own that still feels like it's honoring them in its own way (medicine-adjacent. hands to help heal rather than harm. you get it)

Headcanon B: while it may not be realistic it is hilarious

he pretends not to know english that well in order to make jon explain the "deez nuts" joke he just made. jon is mad about it because he KNOWS damian knows english perfectly well enough to get deez nutted, but damian refuses to drop the pretense until jon glares at him and explains the joke. damian thinks he's hilarious. and he is.

Headcanon C: heart-crushing and awful, but fun to inflict on friends

man this isn't even hc really but do you ever think about the way he is just a little guy who never wants to hurt anyone or anything but he was born into a cycle of violence he never asked for. before he was ever old enough to understand it, there was blood on his hands. it's a guilt he'll always carry. i think he and cass should bond over this btw

Headcanon D: unrealistic, but I will disregard canon about it because I reject canon reality and substitute my own.

i dont know what the fuck canon is doing over there at this point but its important to me that he and talia love each other. there can be complexity and nuance to it but he loves his mom. dc shut up and listen okay they love each other!!!!

and now jon (as he SHOULD be):

Headcanon A: realistic

he grows up with two central struggles: a) the classic mixed kid agonies, and b) the fact that he lives with immense pressure between both of his parents legacies that he can't escape. as a hero, he's superman's son. as a civilian, he's lois lane's son. everyone compares him to his parents, and so does he.

Headcanon B: while it may not be realistic it is hilarious

his puppy eyes are so strong he's literally charmed the shirt off kon's back before. ("hey, kon, i'm packing for that camping trip with my friends this weekend, can i borrow your red--oh... you're wearing it. okay... never mind... 🥺👉👈 unless? 🥺🥺🥺") (kon, actively pulling off his shirt: "YOU ARE A HORRIBLE LITTLE MANIPULATIVE GREMLIN AND I HOPE YOU KNOW THAT.")

Headcanon C: heart-crushing and awful, but fun to inflict on friends

well now im just thinking of that time you were like haha what if i write a fic where lex luthor kills jon in front of kon. i don't think i can top that. you motherfucker.

Headcanon D: unrealistic, but I will disregard canon about it because I reject canon reality and substitute my own.

no age-up bullshit. instead he exists in our beautiful postcrisis mishmash sandbox. he's like 4 when kon hatches (unless he isn't because timelines? what are those <3) and he is simply kon's beautiful little baby brother who has him wrapped around his little finger from day one.

AND NOW LOIS!!!

Headcanon A: realistic

she's the breadwinner for the family. clark works from home/is a stay-at-home dad while jon is little. they have to figure it out a bit whenever superman is needed, but they make it work.

Headcanon B: while it may not be realistic it is hilarious

the first time she visited the kent farm, she stepped in a cow patty and clark laughed his ass off at her, so lois took off the shit-covered shoe and threw it at him.

Headcanon C: heart-crushing and awful, but fun to inflict on friends

having to take care of baby jon during the month clark was dead/"dead" while watching everything go down in reign of the supermen is probably what she would say is the hardest thing she's ever had to do.

Headcanon D: unrealistic, but I will disregard canon about it because I reject canon reality and substitute my own.

i need her to take tim under her wing for a little while. she sees in him a kindred spirit: a do-gooder, incredibly nosy little fuck. she can enable all of his snooping and sneaky tendencies. she'll ruffle his hair and generally regard him like a weird kitten kon found in the gutter one day and brought home. they go on at least one (mis)adventure.

#answers #loisinherlane #damian #jon #lois

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caashmoneynae · 7 months

Text

ARRANGED WEDDING.

JOEY BADA$$ x BLACK!FEM!OC

SUMMARY: in which Valentina lives in the world of old money and has to be set up into an arranged marriage the moment she turns 25. the problem, however, is that the man she gets set up to marry just so happens to be the one she can't stand. ✨

❦

"𝗬'𝗔𝗟𝗟 𝘾𝘼𝙉𝙉𝙊𝙏 𝗕𝗘 𝗦𝗘𝗥𝗜𝗢𝗨𝗦 𝗥𝗜𝗚𝗛𝗧 𝗡𝗢𝗪." Valentina scoffed, shaking her head, as she looked at her parents and let out a chuckle in amusement, tucking a strand of her black tresses behind her ear while she crossed her arms across her chest.

"we're as serious as can be, honey. your brother and sister were set up in arranged marriages and now it's your turn," Magnolia, Valentina's mother, explained as she looked at her daughter across from her, "you're 25, Val. and you know what that means."

coming from "old money" wasn't as great as it may have looked on the outside. sure, you never had to worry about going broke or not having enough money to pay for bills and other things, but in order to continue the legacy of your father and expand his business, you had to be set up in an arranged marriage, and nobody wants to be set up in an arranged marriage, especially when you didn't get to pick your partner.

what if they weren't your type? what if you couldn't get along with them? what if the both of you had different goals in life and couldn't bond together because of them?

many questions were asked whenever the next child had to be married off, but their parents always responded with the same thing: "you'll grow to love them over time."

first, it was Vincent — Valentina's older brother — who had to get married off. then, it was Vena — Valentina's older sister — who was after him. and now it was finally Valentina's turn, and she wasn't exactly thrilled at the thought of an arranged marriage, but it wasn't like she had any choice.

it was a traditional requirement for her family, and she'd eventually have to pass it down to her children just like her parents did to theirs.

"yeah, i know," Valentina sighed, crossing her legs, as she rested her hand on her temple and gently massaged it, "can i at least know who i'm getting married to?"

"Jo-Vaughn Scott. his father is just as successful as me, if not more, and it'd be great help for my business to grow much larger than it already is." Richard, Valentina's father, answered as Valentina's brows furrowed and she let out a humorless laugh, shaking her head while she looked away from her parents and looked down at the coffee table in front of her.

"of course, i have to marry him. out of allll people... him." Valentina mumbled, pinching the bridge of her nose, as her eyes closed and she let out a heavy sigh.

Jo-Vaughn and Valentina weren't exactly a "match made in heaven" like her parents wanted them to be. in fact, she couldn't stand Jo-Vaughn. from the way he acted, she viewed him as an arrogant jackass who thinks just because he's good-looking and rich that he could have any and every girl that he saw as attractive, and Valentina was one of those girls. sure, he was charming and a big flirt, but nothing could compare to how irritating he was.

sometimes Valentina thought he did annoyed her on purpose just to see her reaction, and to be honest, she still does. but the thought of being married to him was something she couldn't bare to think about.

"don't be like that, Val, he's a good kid! he's well-educated, handsome, charming, a sweetheart, can cook, a caretaker — he's the perfect match for you. at least we considered his traits before setting you up to marry him," Magnolia explained, a small smile on her face, as Richard chuckled and Valentina looked over at the two with a blank stare, "and you might as well wipe that look off your face because him and his parents are coming over for dinner tonight, and you're gonna be here."

"i—" Valentina parted her lips to protest against the dinner plans, but she cut herself off with a chuckle as she shook her head and leaned back against the couch, "what time is dinner?"

"8 o'clock sharp. i expect you to be there in your best attire."

"oh, i'll be there."

—

ringing the doorbell of her parents' home, Valentina looked down at her dress and smoothed out the wrinkles in it as the door swung open and her head raised, revealing her mother while she looked at her daughter with a smile.

"oh, Val, you look so beautiful, sweetheart!" Magnolia smiled, looking at her outfit, as she stepped to the side and gave her room to walk in, making Valentina smile while she let out a soft chuckle.

"i had a little help from Vena because i didn't know what to wear," Valentina chuckled, walking into the house, as the clack of her heels sounded off against the wood floor and she adjusted her breasts in the folded down top, "but i'm glad you like it, mama."

"you arrived at such a good time, Jo-Vaughn's mother just called and told me that they're on their way." Magnolia smiled, closing and locking the front door, as she grabbed Valentina's hand and led her to the dining room, the smile on Valentina's face slightly dropping at the mention of Jo-Vaughn while she followed behind her mother.

"how amazing," Valentina fake smiled, her voice holding fake enthusiasm, as she looked at the layout of the dining room table, "where's Dad? and which seat is who's because i know you set up some kinda' seating arrangement like you always do."

"he's upstairs. you know he takes longer gettin' ready than any of us do," Magnolia chuckled, earning a laugh from Valentina, as Magnolia walked towards the end of the table and adjusted the tablecloth, "we'll sit on this side and they'll sit across from us. you'll be in the middle and so will Jo-Vaughn, so he'll be sitting directly across from you."

"it just continues to get worse," Valentina mumbled, her phrase unheard from her mother's ears, as she heard someone clear their throat and she turned around, seeing her father stand at the doorway, "hey, Dad, i was just askin' about you."

"your mama said something smart about me still being upstairs, didn't she? i already know she did, you ain't gotta' tell me," Richard chuckled, causing Valentina to laugh, as she walked over to him and gave him a hug, wrapping her arms around his torso while he wrapped his around her shoulders, "you look beautiful, Val. i'm sure Vena helped with that, right?"

"she was always better at figuring out what to wear than i was." Valentina chuckled, pulling away from her father's embrace, as the doorbell rang and Valentina immediately tensed up while Magnolia smiled and softly squealed.

"that's them! okay, you two go sit down and i'll go get the door." Magnolia smiled, walking out of the dining room, as Valentina and Richard made their way to the table and Richard pulled out Valentina's chair, watching his daughter sit down in it while he pushed her up to the table.

hearing Magnolia greet Jo-Vaughn and his family, Valentina cringed and her legs crossed underneath the table as she looked down at her dress, beginning to regret coming to the dinner. her siblings didn't have to get married to someone they despised, so why should she? though she knew she didn't have a say in who she'd be married to, she wished they would've picked someone other than the most cockiest and irritating man known to mankind.

and she'd have to get married to that? oh, her life would be hell after that wedding.

hearing multiple footsteps lead into the room, Valentina greeted Jo-Vaughn's parents and spoke to them as politely as she could, despite disliking their son. as she conversed with Kimberly — Jo-Vaughn's mother — she couldn't help but feel a burning stare on the side of her face, and as she wrapped up the conversation, her eyes averted to Jo-Vaughn, who was staring so hard at her that his gaze could've burned a hole into her face.

as she greeted him, there was this smugness in his voice as he spoke, and Valentina didn't know if she was only one who noticed it or not, but most likely she was. while the family sat down at the table, Magnolia rushed off to the kitchen to grab the meal she prepared for dinner while Kimberly and Denzel — Jo-Vaughn's father — spoke to Richard, and Valentina assumed it was about business because she was starting to tune out every word they were saying.

"why did i agree to come to this? i should've just acted like i was sick or somethin'." Valentina thought as she looked up from her empty plate and locked eyes with Jo-Vaughn, a smirk crossing his dark-skinned face while Valentina rolled her eyes at him.

"dinner is served, everyone!" Magnolia smiled, coming back from the kitchen, as she sat the dishes of various foods in the middle of the table and walked over to her chair, pulling the seat out and sitting down in it while she scooted up to the table, "before we eat, i'd like to lead us in prayer, if you guys don't mind."

everyone around the table held hands and bowed their heads, listening to Magnolia talk to God and asking Him to bless the food they were about to eat. as she listened to her mother's prayer, Valentina began a separate prayer to God in her head and asked Him to grant her the blessing of patience because she knew she'd need it tonight dealing with Jo-Vaughn, especially since she wanted to make a good impression for his parents.

she might not like him, but she would rather show it in private than be seen as a rude person in public, especially since it could affect her father's business.

"in Jesus name we pray, Amen."

"Amen."

—

"...thank you, i'm glad you liked it," Magnolia smiled, thanking Kimberly for the compliment on her meal, as she looked over at Valentina and parted her lips to speak, "Val, you mind cleaning the table up for me? i wanna show Kimberly some of my achievements."

"yeah, mama, i will." Valentina smiled politely, pushing her chair in, as she grabbed her mother's plate and reached to grab Kimberly's plate before a hand suddenly grabbed it for her.

"i'll stay and help you." Jo-Vaughn smiled, looking at the woman, as Valentina looked up at him and smiled, fighting the urge to roll her eyes while she looked down at the table once again.

"thank you, Jo-Vaughn, you're so sweet." Valentina smiled, internally gagging from the words that left her mouth, as Magnolia and Kimberly left the room and Valentina quickly picked up her and her father's plates while she grabbed the pot the pasta was in, making her way to the kitchen and carefully placing the dishes in the soapy dishwater that sat inside the large sink.

"you complimenting me now, huh?" the sound of Jo-Vaughn's voice made Valentina jump and she glanced back at him over her shoulder as she rolled her eyes.

"don't get used to it, alright? i already can't stand you, so don't make it worse with being irritating," Valentina retorted, walking away from the sink, as she attempted to walk past Jo-Vaughn but was stopped by his arm wrapping around her waist and pulling her towards him, "get the f— get off me!"

"you know i love to see you mad at me, princess," Jo-Vaughn smirked, biting down on his bottom lip, as two of his dreads swung in his face and the rest sat up in a ponytail while Valentina writhed in his grip and both of his arms wrapped around her to keep her close to him, "that's not any way to treat your future husband, is it, pretty?"

'princess' was Jo-Vaughn's nickname for Valentina because he believed her parents treated her as one, especially since she was the youngest. her coming from old money and being born into riches was also an addition to the nickname because her house was as big as a castle in a fairytale and it reminded Jo-Vaughn of princesses in old Disney movies, so her being called 'princess' was practically inevitable.

"just because we're gonna be married doesn't mean i have to like you, Jo-Vaughn." Valentina grumbled, narrowing her eyes at the man, as she rested her hands on his chest and attempted to remove herself from his arms but to no avail.

"one day you gon' love me, princess. and when it happens, i won't be surprised," Jo-Vaughn chuckled, kissing her forehead, as he removed his arms from her waist and stepped back from her to observe her attire, "you look too good in that dress to be doin' dishes, mama. go take a seat and get off ya feet, i'ma take care of all this."

—

FOUR MONTHS LATER.

"...enjoy yourself, gorgeous!" Valentina smiled, waving a guest goodbye, as she walked through the crowd of people and made her way to her friends — Kassidy and Simone — and her sister, smoothing out the ruffles in her dress along the way due to it getting bunched up from how much she was moving.

over the course of just four months, it was like Valentina had went through a roller coaster of events and emotions. first, Jo-Vaughn proposed to her, which still leaves an achy feeling in her stomach to this day. then, she was forced to quit her job by her parents because now that she was engaged and soon-to-be married, she "shouldn't be working." next, her and Jo-Vaughn's parents went half on a large house for the two to live in together and they were forced to sell their old homes because they "wouldn't need them anymore." after all of that, the two got married — which happened earlier today — and they were currently at their reception — which just so happened to take place at their new home.

it was a lot to adjust to at just one time, and it was extremely difficult for her to do, but she had no choice but to adjust to them because she had no say in anything that was happening, and she was sure her siblings felt the same way she did when it was their turn to get hitched.

"y'all, i don't know how much more of this i can take." Valentina sighed, shaking her head, as she grabbed a glass of Champagne from the platter in front of her and took of a sip of it.

"trust me, i know that feeling. i'm just glad mine is over with." Vena chuckled, rubbing her shoulder, as Kassidy chuckled in agreement and Simone let out a sigh.

"if this is what it feels like to set up to be married, i don't wanna turn 25 anymore." Simone declined, shaking her head, as Valentina downed the glass of Champagne and grabbed another, causing the trio of women to laugh at her.

"no, this is what it feels like to be set up to marry somebody you can't stand." Kassidy chuckled, earning laughs from Vena and Simone, as Valentina groaned and shut her eyes, resting her forehead against her palm while she caressed her temples.

"and i had to kiss this man... in front of everybody... man, i almost threw up," Valentina complained, taking another sip of the white wine, as Kassidy snickered and Vena shook her head, "speaking of him, have y'all seen him? i haven't seen him since we got here, and that was almost an hour ago."

"i ain't seen him. girl, i lost my own husband when i got here." Vena chuckled as Kassidy laughed in agreement and Simone let out a giggle while she pushed her hair behind her ear.

"tell me about it. as soon as we walked in, it was like he ditched me. i guess he love his friends more than me." Kassidy joked, playfully shrugging her shoulders, as Vena laughed and Valentina chuckled, shaking her head at the two and taking a small sip of the wine in her hand so she wouldn't get too intoxicated due to the fact that this was her second glass.

"...Val, ain't that him right there?" Simone questioned, causing Valentina to open her eyes and raise her head from her hand, as Simone subtly gestured towards Jo-Vaughn and a woman that was clearly flirting with him, the woman enticingly running her fingers down the male's arm and causing all four of the women to stare at the interaction with different reactions on their faces.

Vena was skeptical, Kassidy was repulsed, Simone was confused, and Valentina was... jealous? sure, she might've been married to him, but she didn't think that'd change how she felt about him. something about seeing him with another woman who wanted him angered her, and if she wasn't sure if it was because they were married or if it was her repressed feelings beginning to surface for the first time.

but whatever it was, the feeling was strong, and it took everything in Valentina not to show how upset she truly was.

"i'll be back." Valentina spoke flatly, no emotion in her voice, as she downed the rest of the wine in her glass and sat it on the platter with the other one, walking away from her friends and her sister before they could utter a word to her about the change in her demeanor.

wiping the corners of her mouth with her thumb, Valentina ran her tongue over her lips to remove any excess Champagne that may have rested there as she approached Jo-Vaughn and the unknown woman, a fake smile finding its way onto herself the closer she got to the conversing pair.

"hi, honey, i was looking all over for you," Valentina smiled, fake enthusiasm in her voice, as she grabbed Jo-Vaughn's hand and subtly moved his arm back from the woman's reach, entwining their fingers and kissing his cheek while she looked over at the woman in front of him, "who's this?"

"hey, baby. this is Arianna, she's the daughter of one of the dads that work with mine," Jo-Vaughn introduced, a smile on his face, as he looked down at Valentina and kissed her temple while he looked over at Arianna, "Arianna, this is Valentina, my beautiful wife."

"it's nice to finally meet you! i've been hearing so much about you, i couldn't wait until i saw your face," Arianna smiled, holding her hand, as Valentina gave the woman a fake smile and shook her hand with her unoccupied one, "you're a very lucky woman to have someone like Jo-Vaughn."

"and he's a very lucky man to have someone like me," Valentina smiled, removing her hand from Arianna's grasp, as she secretly wiped her palm on the hem of her dress and she looked up at Jo-Vaughn, "Jo-Vaughn, can i talk to you for a minute?"

before Jo-Vaughn could respond, Valentina walked away from the woman with his hand in hers, practically pulling him away from her while she headed straight for the staircase. saying 'excuse me' and 'pardon me' whenever she bumped into the partygoers, Valentina made her way up the stairs with Jo-Vaughn behind her, her jaw clenched and a mug sitting comfortably on her face now that no one could see her.

walking into their bedroom, Valentina's grip tightened on Jo-Vaughn's hand and she yanked him into the room, shutting and locking the door behind them while she turned to face him with her arms crossed across her chest.

"damn, what you yankin' on me for?—"

"what the fuck was that? huh?" Valentina asked angrily, raising a brow, as Jo-Vaughn looked at her in confusion and his brows furrowed, "we ain't even been married for 24 fuckin' hours yet and you already flirtin' with other bitches? in front of me? at our reception? is that what we doin'?"

"Val, what are you—"

"you lettin' these thirsty ass bitches touch on you, Jo-Vaughn?! huh?! nigga, you 'posed to be my fuckin' husband and you thottin' already?! what the fuck is your problem?!" Valentina exclaimed, stepping close to him, as she grabbed the collar of his white Polo shirt and gently pulled him down to her level, "i don't want that bitch here no more, you hear me? you better go tell yo' dad to get her outta' here or i'ma tell mine. either way it goes, i want that bitch escorted off my muh'fuckin' property. i'm not fuckin' playin' with you, Jo-Vaughn, you got that?"

Jo-Vaughn remained silent as he stared into the woman's eyes, seeing a side of her he's never witnessed before. Valentina's stare was firm and cold, and she was determined to get this "Arianna" bitch out of their home, no matter how long it took. as long as she left, that's all that mattered to her, even if she had to be thrown out instead of leaving peacefully.

she couldn't hide how she felt any longer. yes, she was jealous. yes, she was mad as hell. yes, she wanted to whup her ass. and yes, she has feelings for Jo-Vaughn. she suppressed them because she didn't want to give him the satisfaction of knowing she was feeling him, but to see another woman flirt with him after she had just gotten married to him was her first and final straw.

she wasn't going for it, and if her sister or her mother was in her shoes, they wouldn't be going for it either.

"Valentina," Jo-Vaughn began, letting out a soft chuckle, as he removed her hands from the collar of his shirt and raised a brow at her, "princess, i know you not jealous."

"i'm not fucking jealous," Valentina retorted, snatching her hands from his grip, as she raised her right index finger and poked his chest with it, "no bitch should be at my fucking wedding reception touching my fucking husband and playing dumb in my fucking face like i'm some slow bitch. i'll stomp that bitch out with these muh'fuckin' heels on, Jo-Vaughn, stop fuckin' playin', nigga."

"mama, you jealous. just admit it," Jo-Vaughn smirked, a mischievous glint in his eyes, as he attempted to grab her hands again but Valentina backed away from him, making him follow her movements until she eventually backed up against a wall, "seein' her touch me made you mad, didn't it? watchin' her flirt with me pissed you off... right? admit that shit and own up to it, Val."

something about witnessing Valentina be jealous and possessive over him made him feel like he was on top of the world. after her denying her attraction for him for so long, who would've known that all it took was for her to see another woman flirting with him? knowing she secretly cared about him made him wanna continue to poke and prod at her until she admitted it out loud, and judging by how upset she was, she had surely reached her limit on how much bullshit she could take.

"i'm fuckin' jealous, a'ight?" Valentina exclaimed, looking up at the man, as her back rested against the cream-colored wall and she crossed her arms, "no other woman should be talkin' to you or flirtin' with you if it's not me! no other woman should be touchin' you if it's not me! if it ain't me, the bitch gotta' go, and that's that! so like i said, you better tell ya father to get that ho up outta' here or i'ma tell her myself—"

Valentina was cut off by Jo-Vaughn smashing his lips onto hers, and she immediately returned the passionate kiss as she wrapped her arms around his neck, his arms slithering around her waist and picking her up by her thighs while he pressed her further onto the wall. the kiss was rough and intense yet filled with love and lust, and Valentina deepened the kiss as she slightly tilted her head, her legs sitting around her husband's slim waist while her core began to ache with desire.

"i'll do whatever you want me to as long as you keep talkin' to me like that." Jo-Vaughn mumbled in the kiss, referring to her possessive and demanding behavior, as Valentina groaned in desire against his lips and one of her hands slipped between their connected bodies, grabbing his belt buckle and beginning to unbuckle it.

"then shut up and fuck me," Valentina muttered, unbuttoning his khaki dress pants, as Jo-Vaughn helped her pull them down and Valentina reached into his boxers, her fingertips wrapping around his hardened length while Jo-Vaughn softly grunted at the feeling, "i got you this hard, baby?"

"it's hard not to get turned on with yo' fine ass being possessive over me," Jo-Vaughn answered lowly, pulling away from the kiss, as the adults panted at the lack of air they experienced due to the lengthy kiss and Jo-Vaughn rested his forehead against hers, "you don't know what the fuck you do to me, girl."

"yeah? how 'bout you show me?" Valentina smirked softly, biting down on her lip, as she stroked his length in his boxers before tugging them down with his help, "we got a few minutes before they start lookin' for us, so you better fuck me like you mean it, Joey."

"demanding ass. shit, yes ma'am," Jo-Vaughn joked, making Valentina let out a soft laugh, as Jo-Vaughn slipped his hand underneath her dress and pulled her panties to the side, "put it in since you wanna tease me and shit."

"with pleasure." Valentina's grip slightly tightened on Jo-Vaughn's phallus as she placed him at her entrance, slowly working him inside of her while he pushed some of his length into her as well. Valentina's jaw slightly dropped at the feeling of being stretched out and a soft gasp fell from her lips as she felt Jo-Vaughn push more of his dick inside of her and she let go of it, her hands gripping his shoulders while a groan fell from Jo-Vaughn's lips at her walls hugging him like a glove.

"you feel so fucking good." Jo-Vaughn practically moaned, his brows furrowing, as Valentina whimpered and her eyes rolled back, her lips sitting ajar while she rested her head against the wall.

Jo-Vaughn's hips moved at a slow pace so Valentina could get adjusted to his length and moans and groans of pleasure continued to emit from their parted lips as Jo-Vaughn grabbed one of her legs and lifted it onto his shoulder, causing a loud moan to come from Valentina's lips at him suddenly hitting her g-spot.

"a-ah, Daddy, right there!" Valentina whimpered loudly, feeling his pace pick up speed, as her brows furrowed and her grip tightened on his shoulders, feeling his lips trail kisses down her jawline while she cupped the nape of his neck in her hand.

"right there, mama? huh? i'm where you need me at, pretty?" Jo-Vaughn cooed against her soft skin, caressing her thigh, as Valentina's head absentmindedly leaned to the side to give him more room to kiss on her neck and her back arched into his body, tightening her grip on him while she held him close.

"y-yes! ooooh, shit!" Valentina moaned, her inner thighs beginning to tingle, as wet kisses trailed up and down her neck and Jo-Vaughn's unoccupied hand grabbed a handful of Valentina's ass, speeding up his strokes and striking her g-spot with more passion, "yes! yes, yes, yes! fuck, baby, j-just like that!"

"you sound so pretty when this dick in you, princess. i love the way you call out for me," Jo-Vaughn groaned against her neck, kissing up to her ear, as he kissed her earlobe and gently tugged at it with his teeth, "you love me, baby?"

"yes! ooh, i love you s-so fucking m-much!" Valentina cried, her eyes rolling back for the second time, as the aroma of sex filled the air and sounds of skin-clapping and Valentina's cries filled the room, her stomach muscles tightening up while her orgasm came closer and closer.

who knew that all Valentina needed to make her admit how she truly felt was anger? but the real question is: who knew that her being angry would lead to something like this?

"that bitch out there will never experience this, you heard? she'll never know what it's like to be pinned against a wall and fucked by me. she'll never know what it's like to make me hard. she'll never know what it's like to be you, mama. you're all i want and you're all i need," Jo-Vaughn confessed, his hips snapping into hers, as he let out a soft groan and applied a smack to her ass, "i'm yours, princess. i'm all yours. i belong to you, my pretty girl."

"f-fuck, don't stop, i'm 'bout to cum!" Valentina cried, her stomach filling with butterflies at his confession, as she let go of the back of his neck and grabbed his jaw, pulling him away from her ear and pressing her forehead against his while a stray tear rolled down her cheek.

"cum for me, gorgeous. c'mon, baby, give it to me. gimme that shit, mama." Jo-Vaughn's words send Valentina over the edge, and her lips sat agape as her legs shook and her stomach muscles tightened, a loud cry falling from her lips while she became undone and her body tensed up. her back arched for a second time and she held Jo-Vaughn as close to her as she could as she whimpered feebly and tears started to roll down her cheeks, her leg going numb on his shoulder while Jo-Vaughn slow-stroked her through her orgasm.

"there you go, mama, handle that nut like a big girl. hold me as tight as you want to, i ain't goin' nowhere." Jo-Vaughn cooed, feeling her body relax against his, as he wiped her tears with his thumb and Valentina let out a soft sigh, her eyes locking with his while a lazy smile crossed her face.

before either of them could say anything, a knock sounded off at the door, and panic shined in their eyes as their heads snapped over to the door, wondering who it was and what they could want.

"newlyweds, i know y'all in here. mama and Mrs. Kimberly told me to come get y'all so we can start eating and cut the cake. so wrap up whatever y'all talking about and let's get a move on it, okay? we hungry." the sound of Vena's voice eased the panic in the couple's veins as Valentina let out a soft chuckle before parting her lips to speak.

"we'll be down in a minute, V, i promise we gon' feed y'all."

"y'all better. or i'll eat this cake my damn self." Vena's footsteps trailed away from the door and the sound of her heels clacking against the stairs made Valentina and Jo-Vaughn's ears prick up as the two let out breaths they didn't know they were holding in while they looked away from the door and at one another.

"we not done with this, are we?" Valentina chuckled rhetorically, raising a brow, as Jo-Vaughn let out a soft laugh and kissed her lips, his two-strand twisted dreads grazing her cheek and making her giggle.

"You damn right we not done with this. Just wait 'til everybody leaves, yo' ass is mines after that."

#x black fem reader #x black reader #black girl beauty #smut #joey bada$$#joeybadass #x reader #black stories #black culture #black community #black love #black people #black literature #enemies to lovers #arranged marriage

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