#my sister also finally did a chore but it was putting up dishes... she who i bet rarely washes her hands

[guideaus]

My mom tested positive for covid 😑

#personal #3 years after it was considered a big deal... now u have to pay to even get a test from the store #idk im so mad. she said over and over 'i SERIOUSLY doubt its covid.' then went to the post office and didnt even use a mask when she finall #y went to the doctors #then my dad told my sister and she left her room coughing w/o covering her mouth. she then made fun of how my dad looked wearing a mask #why are none of them taking it seriously 😭😭 two days ago i told my dad to go to cvs to get a test and he said he didnt want to #meanwhile my mom didnt even quarantine herself #my sister also finally did a chore but it was putting up dishes... she who i bet rarely washes her hands #this is making me so reactively individualist i swear. im like wow if i lived alone this wouldnt have happened #none of them want to clean too. normally but even now and im like :/ #and why couldnt this have happened before covid treatment stuff started costing money

[justabooknerdposts]

Final Prompt Response - Home

Prompt 19: Annabeth with Ryder and Kira when they're little

*Great prompt, loved this idea, thanks!*

***

By the time they got back from the park, Annabeth was tired. But a good tired. Ryder had gone up and down the slide possibly literally a hundred times, then begged to go on the swings, so Annabeth had put Kira in a baby swing, plopped Ryder into the regular swing next to it, then pushed both of them while they shrieked happily, kicking their legs out at the bright blue sky. Annabeth had to laugh along with them, even as her arms started to get tired. They always did Saturdays in the park, usually as a family, but Percy was at his mom and Paul's today, helping them move in some new furniture. So Annabeth was on her own with both kids. She'd been a little worried it would be hard to keep track of Ryder while also watching Kira, but her son had done an impressive job of listening today, and it had been a great trip to the park.

When they got home, Annabeth put Kira in her baby swing, then got Ryder set up at the coffee table with crayons and a coloring book. Once they were settled, she headed into the kitchen to finish up some dishes and see about prepping something for dinner later. But she'd only been out there about ten minutes when Ryder called, "Mama!"

"What's up, baby?" Annabeth dried her hands off on a dish towel and went back into the living room. Kira was dozing in her swing, pacifier bobbing in her mouth. Ryder had moved his coloring book and crayons from the coffee table to the floor and was laying on his stomach. When his mother came out, he sat up with a bright smile, showing her the picture he'd drawn. It showed a swing set, with two scribbled shapes that he said were him and his sister. The other, slightly larger, scribble was Mommy pushing them on the swings. Annabeth pointed to another scribble in the corner, with a square leaning up against it. "What's that?"

"That's Daddy," Ryder said proudly. "He carrying a sofa."

Annabeth laughed, then kissed her son's forehead. "It's a great drawing, Ry. I love it."

He beamed at her. "Will you draw with me, Mama?"

Annabeth hesitated, thinking about the handful of dishes still sitting in the sink, the chicken that needed to be put in a marinade for dinner, the laundry in the washer that needed to be moved to the dryer, and the load in the dryer that first needed to be moved to a laundry basket and then folded. But looking down at Ryder's expectant face and bright eyes, she couldn't find it in herself to care much about the chores at the moment. "Of course."

After sneaking another glance at her daughter, who was still sleeping peacefully, Annabeth laid down on her stomach next to her son and grabbed a piece of paper and a crayon. "Alright, what are we drawing?"

"Aquarium!"

"Awesome. Let's design an amazing aquarium." She tickled his side and Ryder giggled before picking up his crayon and getting intently to work.

For a while, they laid on the floor, designing different fish tanks for the aquarium, then trying to join them together with hallways, slides, and climbing tubes like the ones at Chuck E. Cheese (or Hebe Jeebies, but Annabeth tried not to think about that particular experience). Ryder chattered to her while he colored and passed the paper over to her when there was something more complicated he wanted sketched; Annabeth obliged, smiling as she followed her son's very specific instructions for a slide that wound around a giant fish tank, "Like the one in Dory!" Ryder said.

As she passed the paper back to him and watched him get to work, focusing on colors and making coral with little fish dots around it, Annabeth was suddenly overwhelmed in the best way. This was her life right now. She had a family. They were hers.

She snuggled Ryder closer and kissed the top of his head. He allowed it for a moment, then wriggled free, telling her very seriously, "Mama, I's designing."

"My bad," Annabeth said with a grin, dropping another kiss into his blonde hair, still windswept from the slide and swings. She pushed herself up to her knees, then leaned over to where Kira was still sleeping in her swing, even though it was now still. Very softly, she kissed her daughter's forehead, brushing the baby's dark hair back just because she could. Then she scooted back down next to Ryder to help him with the trickier parts of his drawing. It was turning into quite the impressive aquarium. Her professional brain couldn't help calculating what the cost of a place like this would run; to build this aquarium in reality, he might need to call in some favors with his sea god grandpa. But for a Saturday drawing session, it was perfect.

That was how Percy found them half an hour later when he got home. Annabeth and Ryder had the aquarium laid out across half the living room floor, all the different levels connected by walkways and tunnels (and a few slides).

"Whoa," he said, walking in and looking with surprise at the floor. "This looks cool."

"Daddy!" Ryder scrambled up and threw his arms around his dad's legs. Percy picked him up, swinging him in the air and Ryder laughed before telling him, "We is making aquarium!"

"Awesome." Percy kissed his son's cheek, then set him down. "Want to show it to me?"

"Yes!" Ryder hurried back over to his drawings and started shuffling them around again, trying to figure out the one he wanted to show his dad first.

Meanwhile, Kira had woken up with a squeal when she heard Percy's voice and was smiling at him around her pacifier, holding her arms out. Percy grinned and scooped her up, nuzzling his nose against hers, which made the baby clap her hands and made Annabeth pretty much melt into a puddle.

Percy sat down cross-legged on the floor beside Annabeth, bouncing Kira on his knee. Kira spit out her pacifier in order to suck on her fist, cooing contentedly. Ryder appeared in front of them, holding up two different pages and giving a very detailed explanation about these particular tanks and the awesome twisty water slide connecting them.

While their son talked, Annabeth pushed herself into a sitting position and kissed Percy's cheek.

"Hey," he told her quietly, turning to meet her eyes while Ryder was once again shuffling through papers, deciding on the next one to show.

"Hey, yourself." Annabeth patted his knee, right below where their baby was balanced on it. "How'd it go at your parents'?"

"It was good." Percy bounced Kira, who waved her hands cheerfully, one covered in drool. "Although I think I'm going to be pretty sore tomorrow. I told Mom and Paul that next time, I will be happy to cover the cost for them to have the delivery that includes movers who actually carry the furniture up the stairs."

When Annabeth laughed, Percy grinned. He gave her a quick kiss on the cheek, then asked, "How was your day?"

"Great," Annabeth admitted, holding out her finger for their daughter to grab. Kira squeezed it tightly, even as she continued to wave her hand up and down while Percy bounced her gently. "We hit the park, then came home to just hang out."

Percy smiled at her, the late afternoon sun highlighting the green in his eyes. "Sounds like a good day."

"It was." Since Ryder was back to laying on his stomach, working on a new drawing, tongue poking out adorably as he concentrated, Annabeth took the opportunity to give her husband a real kiss. "I'm glad you're home."

"Me too." Percy shifted the baby to his other knee, then slid his arm around Annabeth's waist, pulling her closer. "Home is a good place to be."

She nodded, laying her head on his shoulder, grateful for this moment with her family. "It definitely is."

***

* I don't know how to make the future fics not syrupy sweet—but I make no apologies! Even if this one turned out as fluffy as a blue pancake lol

This also feels like a good last prompt to finish up on—for now anyway I have a few other fanfic ideas I'm playing with, though, so no worries—there will be more stories coming this year. Got to do something to fill the PJO void now that the show is finished (and while we wait for Season Two!) and until Wrath of the Triple Goddess comes out.

Thanks as always to everyone for reading!*

#pjo #percy jackson #fanfic #percabeth #writing #fanfiction #ff #annabeth chase #stories #request #closed to prompts

[jojoturnip]

Sometimes I feel like I'm just made for service.

I won't pretend to know anything about creation and life. I'm not religious, but the universe likes to line things up. She likes patterns.

I grew up filling the gaps of my parents. Caring for my sister in the way they wouldn't. Growing up, I started sneaking extra food in my lunchbox to feed classmates who didn't have enough food in Kindergarten. I have soothed panic, pain, grief, and hate in friends, friends' parents, family, and strangers all my life. Even my job is categorized as service staff.

I have always served others.

My roommate last year convinced me they had narcolepsy or some kind of chronic illness that kept them bedridden the majority of the time. I made them food. I did their dishes, their laundry. They asked me to keep coming to help after I moved out.

When I tried to tell them I felt like their mother, like I was a trapped 1950s housewife, and I just wanted to be their friend, they didn't take it well. They got aggressive and defensive, eventually apologized and started to change, but then grew tired of it and just wanted me to submit to them again. I refused, and I lost that friendship.

They finally got a sleep study, I heard. Something I begged them to do for a year.

It came back normal. There was nothing wrong with them.

They just didn't want to deal with the world. Didn't want to get out of bed, do the chores if someone would rush to do them for them.

They weren't sick. They just liked being taken care of. Even if they knew it was hurting me.

Once I refused to dedicate myself to serving them, there was no reason to keep putting effort into a friendship.

Tell me, universe, why did you make me to serve others?

When most people reach out to me, they're asking for help on something. It's so rare that they just want to hang out, be around me. It's always when they have homework they need help with, a paper that needs proofreading, starting to emasculate flowers for crossing, a breakup that's weighing on their shoulders, help moving their stuff.

Don't get me wrong. I want to be there to help. I want to be there on bad days for my friends.

But I also need them to want me when things are going well too. Because I'm worth that.

There are a few people in my life that I feel want me for more than what I can provide them. Who are excited by my successes and proud of me and the leaps and bounds I've made across the past two years. My sister, my current roommate, my creative writing friends, my coworkers.

I'm going to continue caring for people. It's what I do. But I'm becoming okay with cutting out the people who only want me for selfish reasons.

Maybe it's okay that I'm built to serve. I can make peace with that. But I can grow other parts of myself, too, and stick around the people who are into watering and fertilizing themselves. Caring for themselves and growing alongside others.

Yeah, I can get behind that. At the end of the day, I'm going to be okay.

#my writing #on reflecting on recent abuse and abusers #still cant fathom that my old roommate literally wasnt chronically ill and just wanted to use me #actually i can fathom it theyre a lil fucked up tbh #but thats on my my patterns on befriending assholes #and thats for my therapist to tell me theyre familar to my parents so im especially good at befriending them 👀 #personal reflections out into the void today #sending good growth vibes out into the world tonight

[whatwewishwesaidandothersecrets]

Tw for child neglect, childhood trauma, (mild) child abuse, gaslighting, divorce, domestic child labor, alcoholism, non-specific eating disorder, depression, traumatic memory loss, imposter syndrome, emotional / mental abuse / manipulation / gaslighting

I'm fourteen. My parents divorced when I was three and my little sister was one. Even before that, I'm told I used to try to step in between their arguments. I don't remember that far back. I used to spend a few days with my dad followed by a few days by my mom etc etc. My mom moved in with a guy who I instantly hated; they even got engaged. The guy had a son. My mom admits that their relationship was mostly sexual- they would stay in their room every day until like 12 pm, and we weren't allowed to bother them unless it was really important. That put me, a 4 year old, in charge of my little sister and stepbrother, 2 & 3 years old. Tbh I was a bit of a tyrant- my world was unstable and my only safe way of lashing out was to become a control freak over what my siblings did during the time that I was responsible for them. I was also responsible for tidying our shared room, sorting and folding our laundry, and setting the table. My mom's then-fiancee was also the first adult to ever hit me, which was quickly followed by my mom. When we moved out from there, I was six, and my mom was sick. She went through multiple operations and wasn't allowed to carry anything remotely heavy, leaving me to not only do the washing, but the cooking and the dishes and the shopping. Among the operations she went through was a hysterectomy, and the hormone crash resulted in a depression that never left. We moved through a lot of houses before she finally bought one a few years ago. All the while, I was doing way more in the household than a person my age should've, and practically (co-)parenting my little sister. There were a few years where I simply refused to cook because it reminded me too much of how down I felt when I had to. My mom's always had a habit of drinking alchohol when things are too much, putting on sad songs and crying when she got drunk. I still have trouble telling when people are drunk because I grew up just thinking people acted like that. She's very depressed nowadays. She barely eats, which I often remind her to. Dinner at her house consists of meat in the airfryer that we individually get whenever we get hungry- it's not a sit-down event. She doesn't parent us, I don't think she knows how. She works mostly from home, having online meetings and sitting behind the laptop all day. She falls asleep on the sofa or stays up until late watching crime series, and I have to get her to bed. Sorry that this got so long- the problem is this:

My dad hasn't seen any of this. He doesn't really know. I've tried to tell him, but he just keeps acting like I'm making stuff up. He tells me I'm being dramatic and that I just want to be traumatized so I can martyr myself, and that I blame everyone else for my problems. He says that I never do any chores, and he doesn't believe I do everything around my mom's house. He says that I've made it up that I parent my sister, that none of the examples I give of how I parent her are parenting, that I'm just her sibling. And- I'm not. I know I'm not. My sister knows I'm not, she knows I raised her and she regularly refers to me as her 'motherly figure' or something like that. I also have a lot of issues now due to how I was raised, both on my mom's and dad's side. But, sometimes I start to believe my dad, because I don't really remember a lot of those times very well. I was still a toddler when my mom was engaged to that asshole and I barely remember anything about the time my mom was sick. I put it up to trauma, but- how do I know I'm not lying to myself or misremembering if I don't remember? Is my dad gaslighting me or am I wrong?

OK, full disclosure, I'm no therapist. I'm just a 20 year old who struggles a lot and goes to a lot of therapy, and wants to help people.

That being said, while I was never in such a severe situation, I have gone through (on a waaaaay smaller scale) some similar experiences. I know what it's like to do the cleaning while your mum is crying, to live on pot noodles as a kid because you can't cook and your parent's can't (because they actually can't or they can but won't) make you anything. To raise yourself. I'm the youngest, so I was "lucky" in not having to raise anyone. I can't imagine that burden and I am so, so fucking sorry that was put on you, especially from such a young age. That's beyond not fair. I hope you know that I'm so so proud of you, for making it this far, when not only did you have to raise yourself and your siblings (that's a thing called parentification) but being stuck with bouncing homes and violence. I am so sorry. Please know it's not your fault. You never did anything wrong. And even if you in some way hurt your siblings (being a "control freak") you were doing the best you could. That's all that matters. You are strong, and amazing, and deserving of love and peace. Just know that, OK? And you're not alone.

What your dad is doing is just wrong. First of all, it's 10000% not in your head, you even have someone else agreeing with you. And forgetting memories? That's a trauma symptom. When things get too hard emotionally, sometimes the mind tries to block it out as a defense mechanism. It goes "this is too much" and puts it in a little box to be opened later when it deems safe enough. Not remembering an event well doesn't mean it didn't happen. Trust me on that, I've had times when I'm falling asleep and suddenly tense up, fists clenched cause I remembered that one time in 2014 when Bad Things ™ happened. It doesn't mean it didn't happen, it just means your mind is being a dick but trying to help by blocking it out.

The tricky thing with gaslighting is it all depends on what the gaslighter actually believes. If he genuinely believes none of this happened, it's not gaslighting, he's just an asshole for not listening… but the part that makes me think "huh, that's not right" is that he gets so defensive. Something is definitely off with that. If he genuinely thought you were making it up, he wouldn't get so angry. I don't know all the facts, but I would say that's gaslighting, or manipulation of some kind. And how you can tell if you're lying to yourself? Well, your sister has seen how things are now. And things are still bad now, so even if you're wrong about the past, a lot of shit is still happening. You are valid either way. And if you're lying about the past to make yourself feel like a martyr, you wouldn't be asking that question, with genuine fear that you're wrong. One question, how do you feel when you think about what's happened? Do you feel sick, uncomfortable, angry, fight-flight-freeze-fawn? Does a certain sound or object or smell make you panic? If you can't remember properly, maybe you have triggers. And if you have triggers, it (or something) happened. (I'm sorry if this sounds harsh!! I just know how overwhelming it can be when your mind tells you you're crazy, and I find harsh truth works best in those instances, I'm sorry if I'm wrong!!). Also if you were making it up, you wouldn't be traumatized and have mental issues. For what it's worth, I believe you wholeheartedly.

OK, sorry this is so long!! I just want to help, but again, please know I'm only a 20 year old with trauma, I'm not a therapist or anyone with a degree, I could be wrong. But I'm not wrong in the fact that you are strong and deserve better than this. I'm not wrong when I tell you something is bad there and to please seek help, tell a teacher, talk to an aunt or uncle or some adult you trust and could possibly live with. Even just talking with a councellor on the phone if you can after school. And I'm not wrong when I tell you you're not alone. If you want to talk more, I'm always here for you, through asks or dms or whatever. You are going to be OK <33

#safe space secrets #you are not alone #asks #tw child abuse

[yukidragon]

Our Life Snippet - Clingy

As I mentioned in my asks today where I was gushing about Our Life: Beginnings & Always by @gb-patch, it’s about time for another clip of my fanfic novelization of this lovely game!

It’s been a while since I showed a clip of Step 3, so here is a slice from Errands! Thank you to @gb-patch​ and everyone else who enjoy seeing me gush and write about Cove and Jamie! You all make me so happy I cannot even!

Oh, and since this is Step 3 content, spoiler warning for those who haven’t played this far in the game yet.

...

Liz folded her arms over her chest and let out an amused chuckle. “We couldn’t have picked a more perfect trip. It’s been too long since we’ve had a true family outing.” She then gave a pointed look to her little sister and the baby boyfriend for emphasis.

The three parents laughed approvingly at the familiar joke. Jamie rolled her eyes at their mirth and the teasing note to her older sister’s tone even as she fought to keep from smiling herself. Her favorite next door neighbors had joined the Leimomis on this outing, which was what made it a ‘true family outing’ as Liz put it.

Cove offered Jamie a sympathetic smile when their eyes met. Some things never changed and some jokes never died, especially when it came to teasing them about their relationship. It was something they had both long since accepted. The fact that they had been holding hands since they left the cars behind naturally didn’t help lessen such teasing, but neither of them felt inclined to let go of each other.

Jamie finally allowed herself to smile as she squeezed his hand a little, her smile only widening when Cove returned the gesture. Teasing aside, she was bubbling with anticipation to explore the market and see what sort of hidden gems they might uncover. Sure, that meant wading through a sea of people to find them, but she wasn’t alone, so she didn’t pay them any mind.

The idea of spending a day traversing through such a dense crowd of strangers was not something Cove looked forward to, but at least he wouldn’t have to deal with them by himself. He could tune them out as long as he had Jamie by his side. Seeing her so animated with excitement as she looked around raised his spirits, and when she smiled at him, it was like the world around them no longer mattered anymore.

Cliff turned to the group as he clapped his hands together, the sound catching everyone’s attention. “Well, I’m ready to get started. I’ve got plenty of dishes in mind I could use ingredients for.”

It was easy to see that everyone held the same sentiment. Noelani and Pamla were especially excited as they shared a conspiratorial smile with one another.

“Yes, that’s a very good idea, Cliff,” Noelani said cheerfully as she turned back to the others. “This place is much larger than it seems. It’s difficult to visit each part in a single day.”

Such a challenge did nothing to diminish Cliff’s enthusiasm. “I’m sure we can make a decent dent together at least.”

“Actually…,” Noelani said as she let her gaze wander to the rest of the group. “Since there are so many of us this time, we could take different sides of the market.”

For a second, Jamie swore she saw a hint of mischief in Pamela’s eyes before her mom turned away to look at the stalls.

“Divide and conquer, eh?” Pamela said. “That sounds brilliant.”

The suggestion took the rest of the group by surprise. No one else had considered splitting up to be an option.

Pamela flashed the group a dazzling smile to banish any misgivings there were towards the idea. “Though, it’s a little unfair that there are four Leimomi family members and only two Holdens here, so I’ll go with you boys to even out the odds.”

“That’s fine with me,” Noelani said cheerfully.

Despite the upbeat attitude and smiles Noelani and Pamela showed the group, it was clear that they were the only ones excited for the idea. Liz pursed her lips in a frown, her brow furrowing, but she kept her mouth shut. By contrast, Jamie’s mouth hung open in a small ‘o’ of surprise. Cliff awkwardly scratched the back of his neck and his gaze wandered aimlessly, as he found himself at a loss for where to look or what to say. Neither was a problem his son had.

Cove tightened his hold on Jamie’s hand reflexively, drawing her attention to his frowning face. The grip wasn’t anywhere near painful, but it made his thoughts on them being separated crystal clear even before he spoke up. “I don’t like that idea.”

Noelani was nonplussed by the resistance, smiling at Cove despite his obvious disapproval. “Don’t worry, we’ll be apart for only a few hours, and then we’ll have something to talk about at the end of it.”

Cove wasn’t especially convinced. He had never been comfortable with plans being changed without notice, especially when he wasn’t even consulted about the change. Unfortunately, he could already tell that this was a battle that he wasn’t going to win. He could be stubborn with his own parents or peers, but when it came to the Leimomi matrons, he couldn’t dig in his heels with only the argument that he didn’t want to be separated from Jamie. His shoulders slumped in defeat, and he let out a sigh. Reluctantly, he nodded and released his girlfriend’s hand.

Liz let out a thoughtful hum and shrugged off her confusion. “Alright,” she said, her frown melting away into an easy smile. “I don’t get the point, but I also don’t mind spending the first part of the trip with Jamie and Ma.

Delighted, Noelani clapped her hands together in a brief show of cheer. “Wonderful. Are the teams ready to go?”

Like her sister, Jamie didn’t understand why their moms thought splitting up was a good idea. The entire point of both of their families going to the farmers’ market together was to enjoy each other’s company, wasn’t it? Splitting the group in half felt like splitting the fun in half too.

Actually, it would be even less than that if they expected Jamie and Cove to spend the day apart when they could be together.

If this was going to happen regardless of any of their opinions on the matter, Jamie knew that she had to at least suggest a compromise. “Can I be the one who goes with the Holdens instead?”

Jamie clasped her hands together as she looked between her moms hopefully. They would understand why she wanted to spend the day with Cove, right? He just got back from Nevada, and after he had been gone a long time to boot. It felt almost cruel to spend a day apart from one another when they didn’t have to.

Cove immediately perked up at the suggestion, his defeated frown turning into a hopeful smile of his own.

Unfortunately, the expressions Noelani and Pamela wore were not promising. Noelani pouted at their youngest daughter while Pamela merely shook her head with a grin.

“Sorry,” Pamela said. “No can do this time, kiddo.”

Jamie saw not even a flicker of reluctance between her parents, and the disappointment on Noelani’s face, however played up to keep the mood light, made her feel a twinge of guilt for suggesting she leave her ma’s group. Her shoulders sagged in surrender as a quiet sigh escaped her. “We won’t be split up too long, right?” she asked weakly.

A cheerful smile returned to Noelani’s face as she moved to her youngest’s side and wrapped an arm around Jamie in a little side hug. Her comforting gesture was rewarded with a lopsided smile from her daughter. “Yes, thank you, Jamie.”

With things finally settled, Pamela walked over towards Cove and Cliff, grinning in spite of the confused looks they still sent their way. “Come on, boys, we’re heading out.”

“Sure,” Cliff said.

“Okay,” Cove said with far less enthusiasm than Pamela. This trip had suddenly become a lot more of a chore than it started off as.

His gaze then turned to Jamie, and he offered her a soft smile when her eyes met his. He was drawn towards his girlfriend, stopping just short in front of her. The smile he wore wavered as he hesitated to leave. “Bye,” he said quietly, unable to hide the note of regret from his voice.

Jamie was no more thrilled to separate than Cove was, but she managed to offer him a small smile in return anyway. “Bye.”

Cove took his girlfriend’s hand in his once more and gave it a gentle squeeze, which Jamie returned. Her smile grew just a little stronger at his attempt to reassure her, which raised his spirits as well. He then dipped his face towards her for a parting kiss, his cheeks warming as his eyes drifted closed.

Jamie started to close her eyes as well in anticipation of the kiss, only to notice Cove suddenly jerk to a halt stiffly a few inches away from her.

The reason why became immediately clear as Cove twisted his head around to stare back at Pamela with wide eyes. She had seized the hem of his shirt and physically held him back. She gave another firm tug, urging him upright before letting go.

“No, no, no,” Pamela chided with a wide grin on her face as she wagged a finger at Cove. “Time’s a wastin’, Cove, and I’ve known you long enough to be aware that you’re one to linger. If I don’t stop you now, you’ll only drag your feet on parting ways more.” Her smile then turned mischievous as she shifted her gaze from him to Jamie and back again. “The two of you can snuggle and make out as much as you want later. We have important shopping to do now.”

Jamie felt her face grow hot from being called out so publicly by her mom. Cove outright gasped at Pamela, completely taken aback by what felt like a truly obscene thing for her to say.

Once Cove overcame the initial shock, he forced himself to ignore how fiercely his cheeks burned as he made an unimpressed show of rolling his eyes. “You don’t need to literally pull me away from Jamie. I’m not that clingy.”

Pamela made no effort to hide her snickering as she shook her head wryly.

The reaction wasn’t one Cove expected. He raised his eyebrows at her before he looked over at Noelani. However, the other Mrs. Leimomi refused to look him in the eye as she whistled in a supposedly ‘innocent’ manner.

Cove noticed the look Liz sent his way, particularly the sly smirk she wore that stretched from ear to ear. He whipped his head around towards his dad next. Cliff met his gaze, but could only offer a lopsided smile and an apologetic shrug.

It was only then when it dawned on Cove - everyone really thought he was that needy.

Finally, Cove dared turn to face Jamie, his eyes wide and pleading with the desperate hope that at least she didn’t agree as well.

To his relief, the look Jamie gave him was a sympathetic one. She then leveled a stern gaze to the rest of the group, folding her arms across her chest. “Cove is totally capable of being independent when he wants to be,” she said in a very matter of fact tone.

After all, Cove had recently traveled to Nevada by himself for weeks. Willingly separating from her for that long was the exact opposite of clingy. In fact, that was all the more reason for them to enjoy each other’s company as much as possible now. There was no reason for them to poke fun at her boyfriend for wanting to show her affection. How they expressed their feelings for one another was no one else’s business but theirs.

Unfortunately, it seemed that no one else saw it that way, and her attempt at chastising them for their teasing was met with a few snickers from her family. Unlike them, Jamie was not amused.

Cove, on the other hand, beamed at having his girlfriend’s support. Without thinking, he took a step towards Jamie, feeling drawn to her once more. Also, once more, Pamela snatched the back of his shirt, freezing him in his tracks.

Pamela attempted to suppress the urge to laugh, but a few chuckles escaped her anyway. “Actions speak louder than words.”

Caught newly embarrassed all over again, Cove struggled to come up with something to say in his defense. His mouth twisted and his cheeks reddened as he looked sideways at their families, who were having way too much amusement at his expense. “Yeah, well…” After a few moments of struggling, he finally had to look away with a frustrated huff. “So what?”

That admission had their parents and Liz bursting into laughter, much to Cove’s mortification.

Jamie felt her irritation grow when everyone started laughing at Cove. “Yeah, so what?” she said in a challenging tone. Before anyone could make what she was certain would be another teasing retort, she closed the distance between herself and her boyfriend. She cupped his cheek to turn his face back towards her and stole a kiss from his lips before her mom could stop them a third time.

Cove barely had a moment to register the kiss before it ended. It was so brief that he hadn’t had the chance to really enjoy it, much to his regret. He could only stare wide-eyed at Jamie as she moved back from him, though involuntarily, as this time it was Noelani pulling her back by the shirt.

“I believe you were saying something about being independent?” Noelani said, though her chiding didn’t come across as particularly authoritative since she was chuckling as she said it.

Jamie was unrepentant for her act of defiance, her grin wide and proud, though she did step back at her ma’s prompting, if only to spare her shirt from further punishment. “Cove is, but I didn’t say anything about myself,” she said wryly. That comment along with her little display set off another round of laughter from the group, but it was worth it.

 Pamela shook her head with a wide grin. “I don’t know about that, but I think we both better keep the kids on a short leash if we want a chance of getting any shopping done before nightfall, ‘Lani.” She gave a little tug on Cove’s shirt for emphasis, much to his chagrin.

“I think you’re right,” Noelani giggled as she kept her grip on Jamie’s shirt firm.

Cove didn’t have any further defense for himself or Jamie, not with the way everyone was having way too much fun at their expense. Grimacing, he strode several feet from the group, his face red all the way to his ears. He wanted to move on from this teasing, even if it meant physically moving on and away from her. At least Pamela let him go despite her idle threat to keep him on a leash.

Seeing Cove start to leave washed the taste of victory from Jamie’s mouth, but she just had to accept it. “I’ll see you soon,” she called after him. When he glanced back at her, she smiled softly at him and gave him a little wave.

Despite how Cove still burned with embarrassment, the reminder that he had Jamie’s support helped him relax a bit. He nodded at her ever so slightly as he pulled his mouth into a bent smile.

“See you in a few hours!” Pamela said as she gave her wife and daughters a cheery wave.

“Take care of yourselves,” Cliff said with a nod of his head.

With that, the groups were divided. Pamela picked a direction and set a course for destinations unknown, leading the Holden men who followed not far behind her.

Noelani gave the departing group a grin and waved enthusiastically with her whole arm. By contrast, Liz gave a much more dainty wave of her own.

Jamie continued to wave goodbye as she watched Cove disappear with his dad and her mom into the dense crowd. Because of his height, she could still spot glimpses of his pale green hair for a little while, but all too quickly even that small sign of him was lost from view.

As her arm fell limply to her side, Jamie tried to banish all the negative feelings she had towards this turn of events. Sure, this wasn’t what she wanted, but that didn’t mean the trip couldn’t still be fun. Sure, it sucked that she wasn’t going to explore the market with her boyfriend, and that was the thing she was looking most forward to and now, poof, that wasn’t happening… but she would see him in a few hours. It was silly to feel sad or let down that they wouldn’t all be traveling together.

It wasn’t as though she was actually clingy like she joked.

#My Writing #Our Life Beginnings & Always #ourlifeba #Our Life #Cove Holden #Jamie Last #Jamie Leimomi #Elizabeth Last #Pamela Last #Noelani Last #Cliff Holden

[itsclydebitches]

I adore talking about this with you, it's so cool to be able to agree, everything I've read is just excusing yen lmao.

And with "geralt would rather do and say things Yen wants to avoid pissing her off" LIKE YEAHH I guess I annoyed yen with my answers and she teleported Geralt out of the tower thing, and then threatened to do it again like??? Like he pissed her off so she has fuck all care about him, was over water thank god but like girl??? omg and her refusing to tell the wticher bros what she was planning on doing to Uma, like I get that they would be hesistent but I mean it's cause it's cruel and painful and they have that trauma around that. She just expects everyone to do what she asks when she asks no questions. (Lambert's "I'm not geralt" when he and Yen are kinda arguring, bb red flags)

I just assumed she didn't believe him cause if she did whats her excuse for behaving how she is lmao??? Like you believe he has amnesia and you still blame HIM over the person who maniplated him KAY.

And goodddd that fucking scene when Triss and Yen see Ciri in Kaer Morhen is genuinely the worst, Triss and Yen see their sis/daughter (not gonna get into how weird I find it that Triss considers Ciri her sister and Geralt is Ciris father and she still wants to fuck him, uncomfy) for the first time in forever, she's alive and well and while Triss is hugging Ciri, Yen kisses Geralt and Triss throws a glare at her. I hated that scene so damn much, it's stupid and shouldn't have been there. (aso I get emotions and all but Yen kissing Geralt is so bitchy, idk even full of gratitude and emotion I wouldn't kiss the man who just dumped me lol, especially not in front of a situation like Triss)

I'm still mad about the women, I really wanted to like them fuck meeee

YOU GOT TO THE PART. Oh thank god, anon, I've wanted to talk about this since we started these conversations lol

Okay, let's set the scene, shall we? You arrive to find that, with our playthroughs anyway, your ex has barged into your home. I say "barged in" because although we (Geralt) know that Yen's help is necessary and she'll be tagging along, the other witchers living there are given no prior warning and, according to Vesemir, Yen teleported in without so much as a "Hello." She then immediately starts ordering everyone around like her servants, failing to explain the situation beyond there being a curse that they have to help with. No, this isn't negotiable. She (still being an ex) takes your old room for herself, which just happens to be the biggest in the keep, and proceeds to toss a bed out the window. It's only later that Vesemir recalls that Triss used to use it, so prior to that everyone apparently just accepted that Yen was destroying their stuff for no understandable reason. Classic Yen. You go upstairs to find her cursing a blue streak at her failed experiment and when you try to lighten the mood, she snaps at you. If you're of the opinion that Yen's every order must be obeyed, this is when you're supposed to drop the conversation entirely, because she said to. Except, funnily enough, you'd like to know why she's up here being The Worst Guest Ever and destroying your property. She tries to justify this by saying that destroying a bed is better than how she could be dealing with her anger over Triss. Be grateful and all that. Except, it's not really about Triss, is it? The line is "You shagged my friend. For upwards of a year. I don't know what your witcher's code says on the matter, but ordinary folk would consider it obscene, base, vile." The blame is not on the woman who knowingly manipulated Geralt into having sex with her while he was vulnerable, it's on Geralt himself! He is the "obscene, base, vile" person for... daring to have amnesia? And when you point that out - "Yen... told you already. I lost my memory" - she yells that she's "lost [her] patience" and teleports you into a lake! This is, apparently, how she really wants to deal with her anger. Not by destroying beds, but by attacking you for things outside of your control. And I do consider it an attack. Yen is meant to be insanely powerful, she is leveraging her magic as a weapon here, particularly when Geralt has spent the whole game commenting on how much he hates portals. Yen knows this. Not just because he says so in her presence, but because she frequently reads his mind, something else he's expressed discomfort with. She's not just demonstrating her power (controlling) and sending him away when he makes a point she doesn't want to acknowledge (immature), she chooses the one thing she knows makes Geralt uncomfortable, perhaps even scared. Then when you've swum your way back to shore and returned to, despite all this, begin her list of chores, she makes a dry comment about how next time she just might drop you high enough for the fall to be fatal. With the next time implied to be, you know, the next time you disagree with her. The next time you dare to do anything other than agree with her every belief and jump at her every command.

The fandom interpretation of all this: "Lol Geralt getting yeeted is so funny. And their banter is just 😍"

Me:

You mentioned red flags and yeah like that ENTIRE SCENE is a crimson banner for me. I mean, by all means, love the fictional ships that are super messed up (I often do), but it astounds me how many fans honestly think this is just a cute interaction with absolutely no problems attached. Nothing to question here, folks. I've mentioned before, but last I discussed this in depth the asker wanted to know if I'd been an asshole to Yen and... that's it. That's the perspective. Any disagreement with her, any pushback, anything that's not complete, blind obedience is something she will not permit AND something most fans take as a given. If you're not doing what Yen tells you to, you're automatically the asshole, and if you're the asshole, you automatically deserve any punishment she chooses to dish out.

Comic spoilers coming up if you want to skip, but this is made abundantly clear in "Curse of Crows." Yen and Geralt are at their best in the moment below, enjoying one another's company on a nice day. Yen asks if Geralt wants to swim and he says nah, he'd rather watch her. She appears to like that idea and, indeed, swims naked while Geralt admires from the shore.

Actually cute right? I really liked this moment! They're cuddled up together and exchanging smiles. It's a rare moment of peace where I can believe that they truly care for one another, outside of passionate sex and not wanting the other dead. Finally, something beyond that incredibly low bar.

...except Yen starts flirting with a young man who shows up, invites him to travel with them, all while refusing to explain why she's interested in his company. The sudden third wheel is clearly bothering Geralt, but Yen continues to ignore his questioning. The answer she finally gives later that night?

She did it purely to mess with Geralt! It's his "just desserts" for "refusing to swim with [her]." She is "not one to be refused - I thought you needed reminding" by giving him "a flick on the nose." When I say that Yen treats Geralt like a dog I mean she literally treats him like a dog. He's a servant who must jump at her every command and if he doesn't, he'll punished for disobedience. He might not even know why he's being punished for a long stretch because Yen enjoys making him think she's a normal person capable of accepting that he doesn't feel like swimming right now - insert the Kaer Morhen scene where she wants to go have sex upstairs, but Geralt wants to catch up with the brothers he hasn't seen in an age here - only to reveal that actually she's made their formerly nice outing uncomfortable because he needs to be put in his place. All of which is followed by, "So... willing to join me now?" The message is very clear! Geralt had better get his ass in that tub unless he wants to be punished some more. Whether he wants a bath right now or not is inconsequential.

This is also the run where she scares the women Geralt was with, despite them being separated right now. Why? "I could."

Claims that Geralt is allowed to return to his companions (who he actually waves away) only for him to realize she's cast a spell to burn him with the water. Yen loves pretending she's okay with things only to punish Geralt for them later - sometimes with physical punishments. And what would have happened if the women had actually joined him again? Do witchers weather hot water better than the average courtesan? Who knows, but Yen clearly doesn't care who might get hurt.

Just like her time in Skellige and at Kaer Morhen, she refuses to explain what's going on. She just expects people to obey her, so-called loved ones included. Geralt was to get her cider, and arrive before her bath went cold, not question what they're doing on this dangerous hunt. He's a servant.

And my favorite, petty moment: transforming her awful inn food into a lavish meal without offering to do the same for either Geralt or Ciri.

"But, Clyde, that's just the comics. They're not really canon." Nah, questions of canon aside, this is 100% Yen's characterization. She's prideful. Immature. Beyond controlling. And punishes anyone who dares to tell her "No." Fans are always pointing out that she's meant to be horrible, she could have been a villain in another life, like any of that explains why I'm supposed to root for this relationship or enjoy her existence outside of being a complex character. Yen is interesting, but she's interesting in a "I can't wait to see her get her own just desserts" way. Not "Wooo now I get to watch this story ignore her behavior again to push a True Love narrative."

She punished Geralt frequently during their first meeting, she punishes him whenever they get together, and, I think, she punished him during the reunion with Ciri. Given our playthroughs, do we really think that after breaking up with her and all this fury over Triss - an anger so deep she destroyed the bed and attacked Geralt - she's just overcome with such joy that she forgets they're not together anymore and forgets the anger she's been nurturing for years? Yen doesn't forget. She's staring at Ciri during that moment, right where Triss is currently running towards them, and then after a considering look at Geralt pulls him in for that kiss. That was calculated. She did that to make a claim she no longer had. To punish them both: make Triss uncomfortable by playing at the "perfect" family reunion; make Geralt uncomfortable by kissing him when she knows he doesn't feel the same way. But of course, the popular reading is that she just loves him so much she couldn't help herself. Riiight.

It's just all SO BAD. (Including, as you say, the ickiness of having Triss lusting after Geralt and referring to Ciri as "little sis.") I love a lot of the women in Witcher - Cerys is a fave, Ciri, Saskia, Philippa, Keira, etc. - but the two I'm supposedly meant to fall in love with are just the worst lol.

Basically:

Half the fandom: TEAM TRISS 🤬

The other half: TEAM YEN🤬

Me: TEAM REGIS 😭

#witcher #mymetas #long post

[b3k1720]

Tainted food : Jacob Frye

TW: mentions of death, poisoning, swearing and violence.

It was common practice in the Victorian era for grocers, butchers and bakers to substitute some ingredients in their food to save money or because certain things weren’t available.

But these things always lead to people getting sick...

Rebekah came home one afternoon with the groceries, everything from meat for dinner to milk for little Cecily.

“Emmett sweetheart go out to the garden and grab four carrots and six potato’s for me” she announced before putting down the bag and starting to put things in their proper place.

“Ok mum!”

Soon Amelia came in holding Cecily’s hand.

“Mum ceci says she’s hungry and I am to”

“I Hungry mama! The little two year old cried out.

Rebekah wiped her hands of on her apron as she hummed and shook her head,

“Alright you can both have a slice of this new bread” she told them before slicing off two pieces from the loaf, buttering it and giving it to Amelia,

The young girl placed her little sister in her high chair before sitting in the chair next and handing the other slice to the toddler.

“I got them mum!” Emmett shouted with excitement as he entered through the back door with the carrots and potato’s bundled in his arms, his hands and somehow his cheeks covered with dirt.

The boy dumped them in to the basin to be washed, Rebekah knowing he’d also be hungry prepared a slice for him as well.

But she stopped him as he reached for it,

“Ah ah! Go wash your hands and face before you touch that bread young man your father and I didn’t raise you in a barn” Rebekah sternly told him as she pointed to the door leading to the bathroom.

“Yes mum”

...................................

Before long all the children had eaten their snack

And as dinner was just about ready, potato, carrot and beef stew with a side of bread,

“I’m home!” A charming voice rang out from out the kitchen and down the hall leading to the mud room.

“Dada!” Little Cecily cried out with a shrill little voice as Jacob entered to find his family about to settle in for dinner, the table set and Rebekah about to dish out serves of the warm delicious stew.

“Hey little princess” he chuckled before placing a kiss on her strawberry blonde ringlets, causing the little girl to giggle.

Amelia and Emmett quickly jumped up from their seats to greet their father with a hug which was met with a warm tight hug from the assassin, he smelt of smoke and gunpowder.

And before sitting down he gave his wife an affectionate kiss and a charming smile,

“Stew tonight? You definitely know my favourite my darling” Jacob chuckled.

“It’s been your favourite since I first cooked dinner for you and Evie” Rebekah laughed as she sat down, her mind returning to years gone by when she was living in the train...in the reign of Starrick’s terror...

Amelia giggled at the romance of her mum and dad which caused Cecily to giggle without knowing the reason, poor Emmett rolled his eyes, it was all gross!

Finally all settled down the family began to eat, Making small talk about their days from the children about school and play with little cecily’s input of seeing a puppy which needed some translation from Rebekah.

“This isn’t the usual bread we buy” Jacob commented with a raised brow after taking a bite of his slathered with butter and a spoonful of stew on top. He couldn’t help but think it tasted powdery.

“No it’s not, the usual baker raised the price by five shillings and I heard from someone at the market a new baker set up shop and his bread is a bit cheaper” Rebekah sighed, the prices just kept rising!

“Oh well that’s alright I guess” Jacob shrugged but he still couldn’t help but feel cautious.

.........................

Through the next week Rebekah served bread and butter with every meal, making strawberry jam sandwiches for the children for their lunches, she even packed lamb sandwiches for Jacob which he did quite enjoy.

But as they went on with life...that’s when the troubles began.

Amelia, Emmette and cecily began to constantly complained of sore stomachs, little cecily cried every night from the pains.

Both Amelia and Emmette had to stay home from school after two days!

It was hurting both Rebekah and Jacob to watch their children cry, even now when Rebekah got the same cramps in her stomach causing her to curl over in pain, wincing and groaning as her stomach tightened during the household chores.

Even Jacob was now starting to get the pains!

He had to stop every so often when running over the roofs of London to console his stomach and take a break.

And soon enough the doctor was called in after Jacob came home in a fury but stopped by a massive cramp.

“My children are suffering, my wife is in agony and it’s now affecting my work!” he cursed at the physician who only nodded and checked everyone over.

After an hour he could make his diagnosis.

“I’m afraid I’ve had quite a few similar visits and complaints of stomach cramping, one little boy I visited was just buried this afternoon, poor thing was only four years old” he explained.

“Dear god” Rebekah gasped hugging her youngest child closer to her chest.

“What’s wrong with us?” Amelia asked as she hugged on to her father, trying not to cry out in pain.

“I’m afraid your all being poisoned...arsenic in this case”

The children looked confused as they hugged their mother and father, Rebekah was shocked and mortified!

Jacob saw red!

He had a sneaking suspicions of who was doing it as well!

Carefully he let go of his daughter and paid the doctor.

Then in such a chillingly calm tone asked for the address of the baker from his wife...

Then left the house immediately after throwing on his assassins coat.

.................

‘How dare someone hurt them, hurt my children, hurt my wife...” Jacob seethed inside his head as he stalked down the street.

His mind wouldn’t stop going back to the nights his poor children curled up in bed with them whimpering in pain...begging “daddy” and “mummy” for the pain to go away!

Once at the bakery Jacob didn’t wait for the baker to come greet him, he hurled himself over the counter and launched in to the kitchen.

The stocky man who reeked of yeast stood no chance against Jacob’s knuckle duster as they pounded in to his stomach.

“Where do you keep the arsenic you bastard” he growled in such a low tone he was only just heard by the mans cauliflower ears.

“W-What arsenic?”

Jacob snarled and punched him hard in the gut two more times, now he was coughing up blood.

“Don’t play dumb with me! The arsenic you’ve been using to poison your customers and MY FAMILY! WHERE IS IT!”

Now trembling and wheezing the baker pointed to a cabinet.

Once opened it revealed twelve small blue bottles filled with the deadly powder.

“I should slaughter you right here...and burn down your shop..” Jacob spat.

But before the man could utter another word the assassin knocked him out...then tied him up and dragged him out to an unoccupied carriage.

The carriage made its way to Scotland Yard and the baker made his way half unconscious in to Fredrick Abberline’s office!

“Abberline, when you go to the address you’ll see evidence of arsenic poisoning, if he doesn’t do life I’ll be back to slaughter the bastard” Jacob announced as he slammed the paper with the address on the desk along with the man.

“A-Alright then” in all his years of knowing Jacob he’d never seen him so...so angry..

.........

Soon enough time passed and the small family healed from the traumatic experience.

Rebekah never brought bread anymore and never again did so for as long as she lived.

Every week she baked her own with the children....

And if there any more reports of tainted food...Jacob was on to it...

@thatcrazycrowgirl @assassins-and-hidden-blades @nemo-my-name-forevermore

#jacobfryefanart #jacob frye #assassinscreedsyndicate #assassins creed #jacobfrye #jacobsfamily #tainted food

[wrenhyperfixates]

Of All the Places

Chapter 3

Pairing: Loki x reader Series Summary: Washing up in a small town in Oklahoma was definitely not part of Loki’s plan when he came to conquer Midgard. There is one good thing about it, though: No one recognizes him as the one who just wreaked havoc in New York. So, Loki plans to recover from the battle and move on with his life. The only problem? He’s not sure he can leave you. Chapter Summary: Loki battles with new thoughts and feelings as time goes on. While trying to convince himself to leave, he does his best to stop his growing connection to you and Matt. Chapter Warnings: some angst, but also fluff A/N: Third chapter done! For anyone wondering about James, there’s some more information on him in this chapter. And for anyone who saw that other post, this isn’t the super long chapter yet, sorry! Updates every Friday. As always, hope you enjoy :)

Tag List: @lucywrites02 @frostedgiantfavs​ @lunarmoon8​ @twhiddlestonsstuff​

✥ Start at Beginning ✥ | ← Previous Chapter | Next Chapter →

Disclaimer: Gif not mine

One week later, Loki was ready to leave. At least, that’s what he kept telling himself. He’d done his best to keep his distance, and yet he kept getting roped into conversations with you. Surely, though, that was wholly due to your persistence and in no part because he was drawn to you. And this family breakfast he was at yet again? Simply because he was addicted to pancakes. It had nothing to do with you, or your family, or your kind eyes. Okay, maybe it had the tiniest bit to do with your kind eyes. The way you looked at him was like nothing he’d ever known before. Frigga had always done it with a gentle love, but it was always reserved and hidden behind a queenly mask. With you, he could see every thought that passed through your mind reflected in your eyes. He shouldn’t have enjoyed being seen as a bird with a broken wing, but the care you gave him was something he quite liked.

“Hey,” you whispered, nudging him in the side as the rest of the table laughed at something. “You ok?”

“Yes. Just lost in thought I suppose.”

“I hate to interrupt,” Mama curtly interjected, “but whispering at the table ain’t polite.”

Ah, now if Loki was looking for a reason to leave, he could certainly find one in Mama. Though you’d been the one to start the hushed conversation, she was looking pointedly at Loki as if he was the instigator. Then again, she acted like every bad thing that happened since his arrival was his fault, even things he had no control over. Maybe spiting her by staying was reason enough for his delayed departure.

“Sorry,” you said before he could deliver a withering insult. “It’s my fault.”

Mama just made a little humming noise in reply that obviously showed she neither blamed you nor appreciated you taking the fall. In the time that Loki had been at your farm, she either avoided him like the plague or dealt thinly veiled insults his way. It was grating on his nerves, but there wasn’t much he could do bar revealing himself as an all-powerful god. Or leaving. That was always an option, he reminded himself.

“Son, I’ve been meaning to tell you,” Papa started, ignoring the tension like always, “I’ve misplaced that dang camera again. I’ll find it again soon though, don’t you worry.”

Little did he know, that camera’s disappearing act was entirely due to Loki’s magic. He’d hidden it around the house a number of times, never anywhere too outrageous as to avoid suspicion. Perhaps this time he’d just keep it in a dimensional pocket. Or let Taffy knock it over. Maybe if it was broken, you’d give up on the missing person ad idea. He’d worried that you would just use your phone cameras instead, but Papa was convinced that the quality would not be good enough.

“It is quite alright, sir. Your hospitality is more than enough. In fact, I really ought to be on my way soon,” he finished, throwing a glance at you to gauge your reaction, feeling an odd spark of happiness when you sank down in your seat.

“No!” Matt cried. “I don’t want you to.”

He crossed his arms as if that solved everything. It did, however, soften Loki a little. As it turns out, he was very fond of the little guy. On Asgard he’d never had much time to spend with children, but it seemed like he had inherited his mother’s natural ability to be good with them. Inherited is the wrong word, actually, he bitterly thought to himself. She’s not your real mother, after all.

“Matt, if he wants to leave, we really should let him,” Mama scolded, with an almost hopeful expression.

“Actually, I do not see why I shouldn’t stay a bit longer,” Loki said, flashing a false grin at the woman. “There really is no rush, I suppose.”

“Yeah,” she muttered. “No rush.”

“Well, Loki, since Matt has taken to you so well, maybe you’d like to watch him this afternoon?” Ana asked, pretending she didn’t hear Mama’s latest remark.

“It would be my pleasure,” he responded, surprised by the sincerity of that statement.

The family had still been avoiding giving Loki strenuous tasks, believing that he was just incredibly good at hiding his ailments. To keep up appearances, he pretended to have a particularly bad ache or pain every once in a while. Whenever he did, you’d instantly appear at his side and usher him to a seat. He’d try to get up, but you would tell him to stay put in your best stern tone, which he found rather adorable, though he’d never admit it. Then you’d fetch him a glass of water and watch over him for the next hour, or until you decided he was well enough to get up again.

Fifteen minutes later, it was time to start the day and everyone helped clear the table. Your family had made the process as efficient as possible. Mama and John would bring the dishes to Papa in the kitchen, who would hand them to you to put in the dishwasher after rinsing them off. Ana and Matt would put away all the leftovers and toppings from whatever had just been on the menu. Loki helped out where he could, but most days everyone besides Mama insisted he should take it easy, that he could help when he was fully healed. It was odd, he realized, that you were all planning on him being around that long. He felt that familiar, nagging, guilty feeling he’d been getting ever since he arrived. He was not a fan.

By the time Ana and John were ready to leave, Loki had already collected the eggs, the only daily chore he was given, and was ready to watch Matt. It was only as the boy was hugging his parents goodbye that Loki realized he wasn’t really sure what to do with the child for the next few hours. He was thankful that you seemed like you were planning on sticking around, too. It did make sense, he supposed, that they hadn’t completely trusted the boy with a near stranger.

“Aren’t you healthy, mommy?” Matt asked, clinging to Ana’s leg as she tried to get away. “Why do you have to go to the doctor?”

“Because you’re going to have a little brother or sister soon,” Ana explained in a sweet tone as she gently pried her son away. “Mommy and Daddy have to go to the doctor to make sure the baby is healthy.”

Loki’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. He had not yet realized that Ana was pregnant. She must not have been very far along because she wasn’t showing much yet. Though, now that he knew to look, the god could see a small baby bump. Based on Matt’s reaction, he was already aware that he’d have a sibling soon, but he still couldn’t quite grasp the concept of everything that went along with that.

“Will you be back soon?” Matt questioned, finally giving up his efforts to keep his parents where they were.

“In the blink of an eye, small fry,” John said, placing a kiss on his head.

That seemed to satisfy Matt, who wandered over to Loki and put his arms up, clearly looking to be picked up. He hesitated for a second before scooping up the boy. It wasn’t that he was afraid of dropping him, in fact he was sure he wouldn’t, but he’d never held a child before. Up until a few days ago, he wasn’t sure he even had the slightest inkling how to be nurturing. And then there was the whole problem of Matt becoming too attached. Not to mention the way you looked at him when he did held him. That soft gaze was a problem for sure.

“Alright,” you said once Ana and John were gone. “What do you want to do, buddy?”

“Hide and seek!” he shouted. Then he put his small, chubby hands on Loki’s cheeks and used his most serious tone. “You’ll never find me. I have the best hidey spots.”

Loki let out a nervous chuckle. Truth be told, he didn’t know how to play this game. When he and Thor were kids, they played run and attack, but he felt like this was probably not very comparable. Midgard was a very different place, after all.

“Just count to sixty and then come look for us. We’ll stay in the house,” you informed Loki as he passed Matt off to you. “Oh, and just shout out when you’re starting to look.”

“Thank you,” he replied, turning around to face the wall.

It was odd, he thought, that he seemed to have said thank you more in the past week than he had in the last century of his existence. He’d never meant to let himself get so bitter, but here he was stewing in that awful feeling. When the flash of anger receded, the God of Mischief realized he was face to face with a framed family tree. Highest up were pictures of couples he could only assume were your grandparents. Next line down was Mama, Papa, and their siblings. You and Ana were in the next row, and it struck him just how much you and your sister looked alike. Matt and John were there too, but the person that most captured his attention was your brother. The middle child, he guessed, since the picture was in between those of you and Ana. He gently ran his fingers over the looping gold cursive of James’s name. Loki loved a good mystery, but he needed clues and evidence to solve one. He knew next to nothing about the guy, other than that he’d been wearing his clothes for the past seven days.  

“I am starting to look now,” Loki awkwardly shouted, feeling self-conscious about seeming like he was talking to no one.

He thought he heard a small snort coming from one of the upper levels at his gawky declaration, so he headed up first. It felt odd to go rifling through things, so he mainly tried just to peer under furniture, though he did open a closet once or twice. He huffed and considered if he should venture into any of your rooms. If you weren’t there, though, he’d feel like he was intruding on something private and sacred. Hesitating with a hand hovering over the doorknob to your room, he noticed the attic hatch out of the corner of his eye. Standing still, he could hear a very subtle shuffling noise coming from above him, so either you were there, or you’d better call pest control.

As soon as he climbed the ladder, Matt started giggling, but Loki pretended he couldn’t hear. He loudly walked in between the boxes littering the floor, every once in a while dramatically peering around an old piece of furniture. It only made the laughs louder.

“Now where could they be?” he sighed in mock exasperation. “Maybe, they’re here!”

Then he jumped around the couch you were hiding behind and started tickling Matt. The boy squealed in delight and squirmed away. When Loki looked at you, he saw something shocking on your face. Admiration. It was something he’d longed for from so many people in his life, and here you were giving it so freely to him. He moved his gaze elsewhere before his mind could wander any further.

“What’s all the ruckus up here?” Mama asked, her head appearing from the door. After spotting Loki, her eyes narrowed. “Oh. It’s you.”

“We were just playing hide and seek, Mama. Don’t worry,” you said.

“Indeed. I must say, it is much fun,” Loki added, though more to annoy her than ease her mind.

“I’m sure,” she replied before taking Matt by the hand. “Come on, let’s get you something to eat.”

You shot Loki an apologetic glance as you headed out after her. Once Matt’s snack was finished, Loki partook in some coloring. He was oddly pleased to know the little boy’s favorite color was green, and you seemed fairly partial to it, too. Ana and John returned roughly an hour later, and Loki finished the day by doing chores around the farm. Another thing he’d learned about himself was that he really didn’t mind doing manual labor. Growing up in the Royal Palace Valaskjalf, he never had to lift a finger to help cook or clean or do anything much besides training and lessons, really. Now he found himself almost eager to get into the kitchen for a cooking lesson with Papa or help out in the fields, the latter of which definitely had nothing to do with showing off for you.

He’d been on his way to the kitchen that evening sometime after dinner, his infamous sweet tooth bugging him again, when he heard Mama’s hushed voice.

“I’m telling you Earl, something about that boy just don’t sit right with me.”

“Come on, honey. He can’t even remember nothing. It’s our duty to help him out,” Loki heard Papa reply as he hid just outside the door.

“He may say he can’t remember, but I ain’t buying it. We should get him out soon as possible.”

It shouldn’t bother him as much as it did, but there was nothing to stop him from feeling the sting of those words. He really should just leave; it had been his plan after all. As if they had a will of their own, Loki’s feet carried him away from the conversation, out the door, and off the porch. He never should have taken advantage of your family’s generosity. He regretted thinking about you, though, because it made his steps falter a bit. And then there was sweet little Matt. It hadn’t really hit him until now, but Loki actually enjoyed himself today. He couldn’t recall the last day he could say that about.

“I hope you weren’t going to leave without saying goodbye.”

The trickster god whirled around at the sound of your voice. He’d been too caught up in his tumultuous thoughts to notice you leaning on one of the porch’s posts.

“Certainly not,” he lied. “I just needed some fresh air is all.”

“In that case, I know the perfect place. Come on.”

You took his hand and led him away from your land. He tried not to pay attention to the feeling of your hand in his. In fact, he tried to block it out altogether, but to no avail. Eventually, you reached a peaceful creek and picked up a rock to skip.

“If I was going to leave,” he began after a few minutes of contemplative silence, “I really would be fine. I appreciate all that you and your family have done, truly, but perhaps it’s best if I go.”

“Look, I know you’re pretty much all healed up, but you still don’t remember anything. I cannot in good conscience let you out into the world like that.”

“I suppose that is fair. Your mother certainly does not agree with your assessment, though.”

You sighed. “If Mama’s the reason you feel you should go, please just ignore her. She means well and all, but... Well, let’s just say she has her reasons for acting this way,”

Loki said nothing but raised his eyebrows at you. One part of him felt bad to press you for more information, even if it was done without words. The much larger part of himself, however, was entirely too curious to not know.

“Okay, so remember when I told you about my brother?”

Loki nodded eagerly, ready to get some answers about what exactly had happened there.

“Well, he was... He was killed in an accident with a drunk driver a couple years ago,” you recounted, tearing up a little bit. “Mama had trust issues even before, but they’re much worse now.”

“I am so sorry, darling,” Loki said, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder, but not daring to go any further than that.

He felt bad for your loss, but right now there were major alarm bells going off in his head. He’d just called you darling. It wan’t even something he’d thought about doing, it just happened. That, coupled with the fact he cared how you were feeling, had him panicking. His plan to leave after a week was already out the window, but leaving at all was becoming harder to fathom by the day.

“It’s ok,” you replied, wiping a few errant tears off your cheeks. “It was a little while ago. I’m alright now. Really.”

Neither of you said anything for a moment as he awkwardly pat your shoulder, not really certain of the correct way to comfort someone. He wanted to say something else, but he wasn’t sure what.

“I think I had a brother!” he shouted, giving in to his desire to confide in you, but his web of lies making it impossible to tell the whole truth.

“We have to put that ad in the paper then. So he can find you.”

Little did you know how awful that situation would be for everyone involved. Still, it meant a lot that you cared, especially when you’d just been saddened at the memory of your own brother.

“Maybe, but I do not seem to think we had a very good relationship.”

“All the more reason then. You never know how long you have, so you should try to make amends.”

“Perhaps.”

You lapsed into silence again, not really sure where to go from there. By now, the sun had been down for a while and a chill was settling in the air. Loki noticed you shiver and shrugged off his hoodie.

“Here,” he embarrassedly mumbled, holding it out to you.

“Oh, no. I couldn’t,” you refused. “You’ll be cold then.”

“Nonsense,” he insisted, “I will be perfectly fine.”

You reluctantly agreed and pulled it on. Though it had only been in his possession for a short time, his scent had already claimed the soft fabric. He acted like his attention was averted elsewhere, but was actually watching you out of the corner of his eye. You didn’t notice his gaze on you as you took a gentle sniff, trying to take as much of it in as possible. Sandalwood, leather and something otherworldly that you just couldn’t name, other than to call it heaven. He turned his head ever so slightly and you started sheepishly picking at your nails, hoping he hadn’t caught you. He expected to be appalled by the notion, but just found himself confused. Why would you enjoy something that was so distinctly him? Then he remembered you didn’t know the truth. That’s why he had to get out as soon as possible before he, or anyone else, got hurt.

“We should probably head back before it gets too late,” you said after a bit.

“I agree,” was all he replied.

As you walked away from the creek, he tried to leave the new feelings bubbling in him by the water, but they followed him all the way back to the house, and into his dreams that night.

#loki x you #loki x reader #loki x y/n #loki laufeyson #loki odinson #loki #mcu loki #loki fluff #fluff #loki angst #angst #reader insert #gender netural reader #endgame timeline #loki multichapter #marvel #mcu #marvel reader insert #marvel fanfiction #loki fanfic #mcu reader insert #loki friggason #loki friggason x reader #loki laufeyson x reader #loki odinson x reader #marvel multichapter

[snowbellewells]

CSSS20 Fic: “One Little Ray of Hope”

Merry Merry Christmas @let-it-raines!!! Can you believe we ended up being each other’s Secret Santas?!?  It was all I could do not to spoil the surprise yesterday when you posted your amazing story gift for me, but here I am finally with yours in return, and I truly hope you will enjoy it.

You mentioned that you like friends-to-lovers and mutual pining, which I genuinely tried to do to the best of my ability. However, I discovered neither of those things are actually types of fic I have done much.  This comes out more like bantering crushes, and Emma-in-denial-finally-admitting-what-everyone-else-already-knows. I did set it in the Enchanted Forest for you, and I tried to mix in the humor and the feels so it has a bit of everything. And there are Christmas touches but it isn’t holiday overwhelming. I got to the stopping place I envisioned though, and it just wasn’t enough. I hope you will forgive me if I say this is only Part One and there will be a Part Two coming shortly once the holiday hoopla dies down. (In all honesty, I was anxious that my story was for you - I love your writing so much, and I am not at all sure this measures up! And then I read your gift and was even more blown away.)  Still, here’s hoping this brings a smile to a shipmate like you who has been so friendly and kind and made me smile with your writing all year long!  Part Two - and hopefully some fic cover art - to follow soon!)

“One Little Ray of Hope”

by: @snowbellewells

               Though the fire in the stone hearth was blazing merrily, the lights from their lamps combatted the dark sky and frigid wind blasting flurries of snow outside their windows, and the jovial voices of many of their regulars mingled on the air to make things cozy inside the little inn and tavern, Emma Swan still shivered at the winter's chill. There, was some hint of frost that wouldn't go away, forming small icy crystals inside her chest - one particular voice that always stood out from the rest to her ears, was missing. She cursed herself for noticing, cursed him for being so unmistakable, and slammed an empty tankard onto her tray as she cleared the just-vacated table more violently than she had meant to.

               Naturally Ruby would be passing by just then, on her way to wait on some exuberant new arrivals, and she playfully arched one of her dark brows with a teasing smirk. "Looks like someone's a little frustrated this evening."

               From over her shoulder, where Emma hadn't even realized anyone was nearby, Tink tittered with a playful little giggle to Ruby, "Well, you know, we do seem to be short some of Emma's favorite guests this evening…" pirate was not her special anything. Honestly, she was just tired, overworked, overheated, and ready for some fresh air away from the evening crowd. It didn't have anything to do with the fact that Captain Killian Jones, with his unfairly blue eyes and his stomach-flipping accent wasn't here pestering her and getting in her way. What did she care if his farewell to her before he set sail nearly two months' back was that he would return in time for the Yuletide festivities? False hope and nonsense, all of it anyway…

               And yet… tomorrow was Christmas day, her traitorous mind whispered as she plunked her heavy tray of dishes on the counter where the Widow Lucas - the proprietor of their inn, and 'Granny' to all of them - was serving up orders and Ashley was doing dishes as fast as she could to serve warm bread and hearty stew on them once more. Again, her approach was none too gentle, as she huffed out a breath of air and pushed her hair from her face impatiently.

               "Careful there, my girl. Any dishes you break will be comin' from your pay," the widow threatened idly. Granny put on a tough front - one had to in a rough and tumble harbor town - and she meant business if she had to bring out her crossbow from where she kept it close to hand beneath the counter, but she was a soft heart beneath the necessary bluster and hard shell. She loved all "her girls" and most of her patrons dearly, wanting them to know they were welcome and cared for in her inn - and while many like she and her granddaughter had little in the way of blood-related family, she aimed to give them a feeling of home in her place.

               Emma smiled slightly, acknowledging Granny's words without comment, despite knowing the older woman would do no such thing. She unloaded the dirtied tankards and bowls more carefully into the soapy water for Ashley and forced herself to draw a couple of deep breaths as Granny loaded her up with the next order.

               Just as Emma moved to lift the tray and move off again, Granny placed her own hand over Emma's kindly, keeping her there until Emma met her eyes. "Don't let Ruby irk you. She means no harm," was the quietly offered advice, to which Emma nodded sagely, already knowing as much. It was only when Granny winked and added, "Of course, if you're awaiting some handsome sailor, I wager he'll be here soon," that Emma let out an exasperated huff and spun away to the sound of her boss and pseudo-grandmother's laughter at her back. Shaking her head, she seethed, 'Everyone thinks I'm waiting for Jones…. Well, I'm not!'

               The night went on without much further interruption; the snow fell in continued flakes, swirled and eddied by the window and pilling up on the windowsills. Inside their crowded tavern, however, the cozy warmth continued to rise right along with the songs and laughter of those gathered within. Soon Emma found her face flushed, cheeks pinked from the heat and close quarters. Even as the gathered crowd began to dwindle, slowly trickling out the door and homeward in twos and threes, as she, Ruby, Tink, and Ashley began to wipe down empty tables and see to storing up leftover food and seeing drinks stoppered and sealed for the night. Granny had gone upstairs nearly an hour before as the midnight hour had come and gone, claiming her old bones needed the rest, and Mulan, who did not appear the musical type, but who had once confessed when more than a bit tipsy on dwarf mead that her parents had seen that she was learn all sorts of marriageable skills in the hopes of seeing her matched with a smart, dashing husband before she had left hoe to make her own way - had switched from plunking out bawdy sea shanties and reels for the gathered revelers and lighting begun pecking out chords to a few softer and slower Yuletide carols as a background accompaniment to the cleaning and the quieter murmurs of those who still lingered in conversation over their last drinks.

               Not long after, Ruby silently slipped out the kitchen exit in back with the solemn huntsman who came every night to break bread and drink not at all other than to drink in her presence and bask in her company had stood and followed her like a silent shade as she beckoned from the doorway. Ashley had headed upstairs herself for some rest in her own apartments, as had Tink, saying the last town gazette's gossip section was calling her name. Mulan had paused at the door before heading to her own house a couple streets over, telling Emma she would make rounds of the block first, to see that all stragglers had gone home, and no trouble was lingering about them before she left.

               Emma thanked the beautiful warrior sincerely, knowing that it was no more or less than the other woman did every night, determined that these friends who took her and all others at face value, welcoming all lost and weary travelers without trying to change them were safe and secure. She would see no harm come to the Widow Lucas and her adopted "sisters" on her watch; Emma knew Mulan took that charge upon herself as a sworn duty. The rest of them would never have put such weight on her shoulders, but each one of them also slept easier knowing Mulan was nearby. The slim build, shining curtain of silky black hair and delicate features could have long ago earned Mulan the hand of any prince, pirate, or nobleman who laid eyes on her, but those physical attributes all deceptively hid her strength, speed, and core of deadly steel if anyone threatened harm to those she loved.

               "We'll be alright," Emma assured again, as Mulan bid her goodnight. "Everyone was in good spirits this evening. No fights, no trouble. Please rest easy once you get home. I can't imagine anything should happen until we see you again tomorrow."

               "As you say," the raven-haired woman replied simply, and with a slight dip of her head in a bow, she turned and slipped into the night with such soundless agility and grace that she seemed to melt into the darkness - unseen in mere seconds.

               Closing the door at last, Emma latched it securely, making certain the tavern and rooms above were locked properly for the night. She then began to move about the large, open main room, blowing out the candles still left aglow on scattered tabletops and snuffing out the wall sconces as well as she made a final pass around the main space. At last her final chores were complete, one last lit candle in her hand as she stood before the front window, looking down the moonlit street toward the docks for a moment longer. Captain Jones and his crew had yet to be seen in town, and while she could tell the others she didn't care - could even tell herself that in the light of day - here alone in the silent frosty night, Emma couldn't help wondering where he might be, and if he were well.

               "Jones, if you're out there," she murmured, hoping only the snow and ice and the Christmas star would hear her, "Take care or yourself… and be safe 'til we meet again."

               She had crossed the darkened room, placed her hand on the stair rail and was on the first step up to the second floor, when she heard the lightest rapping at the side door into the alley. Pausing there, Emma held her breath, listening uncertainly for the knock again, hardly daring to hope. She only had her candle in hand, the shadows long around her. Were Ruby and her huntsman still outside keeping each other warm despite the winter's chill? Could there be a prowler who had lain in wait until their self-appointed guardian had left for the night, or might it be the visitor she had been promised? The face she had looked for in anticipation every time the inn's door had opened to welcome a new patron that night? She would deny it to anyone, but those dark brows arched up into his windswept hair in challenge or jest, over eyes as blue as his beloved ocean, had been sorely missed; she had hoped to see him home again for Christmas more than she wanted to allow herself.

               She drew nearer to the side entrance, not wishing to give any her presence if the person on the other side bore ill intent, but straining to hear all the same; seeking some sign she was right and to confirm the feeling she had about who awaited on the other side. Gathering her courage, Emma reached for the fireplace poker beside the large stone hearth. Its embers were now dead for the night, but only a short while ago it had been blazing hotly, heating the entire space. She was not some frightened child at any rate; she'd hold her own against any intruder if the opened door led to a nasty surprise.

               Sure enough, the rapping came again, more firmly and with the added hushed entreaty, "Swan? Are you still about, Lass? Emma Swan! It's Captain Jones if you're still about and wish to see your sailor!"

               Her concerns brushed aside at the tones of that voice she could not mistake, Emma let the metal of her makeshift weapon clatter against the stone as it dropped from her fingers. With an exuberant little cry, she was at the door and lifting the latch in a second. The candle in her hand flickered and nearly went out with the stunned breath that left her upon glimpsing his handsome form once again after so long away.

               To his credit, Jones didn't tease; instead looking rather stunned himself as his gaze appeared busy drinking her in as well. Soon, he slipped inside out of the blustery chill and, seeing that her hand holding lighted taper was shaking considerably, he took it from her with care and reached to light the nearest sconce, casting their immediate surroundings with enough warm glow by which to see.

               Finally, she regained enough of her faculties to speak, and Emma stuttered, "It seemed you were not coming, Captain. Ruby mocked me all day for my foul temper and Tink joined in of course to say it was due to my missing and certain pirate and his crew. The busybodies!" she scoffed. But then she reached across the space between hem to catch his hand. "I did worry you might have been arrested, or hurt, or wrecked…or lost…any number of things. Or perhaps I gave you no clear assurance, and instead you had moved on, not to return."

               Killian shook his head just barely, looking troubled that she could even think he would abandon or fail her so easily. "Hardly Lass," he stated fervently, a sort of fiery glow in his eyes she had not seen before. I did say I would return by Yuletide, did I not? A pirate I might be, but I still have my honor.  It would take more than the increased vigilance of the Evil Queen and her forces to keep me away."

               Emma sucked in a worried breath at the cause of his delay. They all hoped to keep far under the notice of the usurper monarch - as cold and cruel as she was darkly attractive, she would end a life as easily as snapping her fingers, and at the slightest provocation, real or imagined. Life had been all the harder and more fraught with danger since Regina had wrested the crown from her kind and gentle stepdaughter Snow White, the rightful heir to the crown. If Killian were wanted by Queen Regina and had snuck back into her borders only to keep his promise, Emma could not bear to consider what would happen if he were discovered.

               Now was the moment of truth, before anymore needless time slipped past. It was time she told him what she had realized while no teasing friends or rowdy onlookers were listening in. "I missed you," she finally managed to croak out around the lump in her throat. "Thank you… Killian…for keeping your word."

               He dipped his head to look into her eyes where she had dropped her gaze to her feet. A strong, calloused hand, warm and gentle in its intent, tipped her chin back up to stare into his searching gaze. "Of course, Swan - Emma. All I could have wished for this holiday was…" he paused, his tongue darting out to wet his lips nervously and a hand coming up to worry the spot behind his ear - gesture she had long ago noticed signified nervousness. But he plunged on determinedly, "was to see you again, to see you and give you this."

               Pulling a small pouch from some inner pocket of his long leather jacket, he held it out to her with sparkling eyes, appearing almost boyish for a moment in his eagerness to see her open his gift, and whispering "Happy Christmas, Emma," as he placed it in her upturned palm.

               Emma's mouth formed a surprised "O", having not expected or hoped for anything more than his safe return. Opening the ties, she tilted the soft material until the item within spilled out in her hand. Holding up a long, golden chain with an exquisite stone of lovely pale green, near to jade in color, swinging from it, she was enchanted by the pendant he had brought her. "Oh, it's gorgeous," she breathed, rather stunned at how nice the piece of jewelry was.  She wore (or even owned, to be honest) little of such finery.

               "It's sea glass," Killian explained, taking the piece back in nimble fingers when she offered it, then turned, lifting her long hair so he could place the chain around her neck and fasten it for her. "Though sailors believe sea glass is good luck, that it keeps the wearer safe, and I would always wish you to be so, I knew it had to be yours because of the color. It reminded me vividly of your eyes…" Though the necklace was secured, his fingers still grazed featherlight along her skin, causing prickles of awareness to course throughout her body, and his own voice had turned decidedly husky.

               At last, Emma turned to face him once more, breaking the trance between them, but needing to thank him, and for him to see how touched she was by his gift, even if her voice was breathless and her words trembled with emotion. "I don't know what to say. You shouldn't have, but I adore it all the same. I'll treasure it, Killian. Truly." And without further hesitation or pausing to think and second guess, Emma threw her arms around him, squeezing him tightly to her. "Thank you," she whispered against his chest, breathing in the salty, spicy essence of him and nuzzling against his chest. She realized with a force that almost knocked her off her feet that she never wanted to let go.

               She felt Killian Jones' fingers thread through her hair, stroking gently, reverently as they stood there wrapped up in each other, swaying slightly in the candle glow and the howl of the wind outside. Emma felt they might indeed stay that way forever, and that neither of them would mind at all, until more rapid knocking interrupted their silent moment. The door handle rattled urgently, and she heard a nervous voice she recognized as Killian's first mate's speaking in hurried words. "Cap'n, you told me to summon you when an hour had gone. I've already seen one patrol of black guard go by. If they notice the Jolly in the harbor…"

               "Aye, Smee," he gritted out, stopping the anxious flow of words. "Head back and make ready to sail. I'll follow in a moment."

               He sighed as he turned back to Emma, tracing his thumb over the apple of her cheek and pausing to caress the dimple in her chin as he cradled her face in his hand.

               "You have to go," she acknowledged reluctantly; hating it, but understanding and wanting to see him safe, just as he did her. Her words were wistful, wishing he could stay there with her - or that she could run away with him - but it was too much, too quickly, no matter how she dreaded being parted again so soon.

               "I must, for now," he affirmed, the regret lacing every syllable of his words. "But I hope that now you know I will return."

               She nodded mutely, her mind trying to memorize every detail of his face, his voice, his touch, until she could see him again. "And I will be here waiting for you," she promised with equal intent.

               Bending slightly, Killian brushed his lips against her cheek, his stubble tickling her skin and again making her shiver at the sensation. It was the lightest and most gallant of kisses, and yet it only served to make her burn for more - for him to take her in his arms, for those firm lips to kiss her everywhere, for him to take her to her own apartments, or back to his cabin. It would keep her burning for however long they might be kept apart.

               As he had to leave, heading out again into the dark night, Emma stood at the door watching until the very second his vanished from her sight, no longer able to deny how anxiously she would await his return.

#csss20 #cs EF au ff #cs two shot #gift for @let-it-raines #one little ray of hope #part one #cs secret santa 2020

[zarahxan]

Day 9 - Spice

“So,” Inaraeon asked, setting down his fork onto his plate. “What do you think?”

Kelantir hummed in thought, fork still in hand and her mouth full of pie. It was the perfect mix of tart and sweet apple. The crust was airy and had the right amount of crisp, and though it seemed rather subtle, she could’ve sworn that she detected a small hint of spice and floral notes from the filling.

She wasn’t too sure of what that was, but it was certainly like Inaraeon to sneak in some magical herb into his culinary ventures. Either way, it tasted good.

“Hrmph..!” Kelantir held her free hand up as she finished her last bite.

Inaraeon barely resisted the urge to laugh.

“It’s good, I never knew you could cook!” she said, her mouth finally clear. “First you being an expert in alchemy, then your cousin telling me how long it took for you to hold a sword right, now this.”

“Haha.” Inaraeon finished the last bite of his serving. “I say that cooking is just another form of alchemy. It requires that same attention and thought to the choice of ingredients, measurement, and the methods and timing of which you use to combine them all together.”

“Guess the Firesong name has more than enough surprises than I expected. Delicious ones, at that.”

Inaraeon let out a chuckle. “Thanks, though I’d like to think that some surprises can still be deadly.”

“Like your sister?”

“Hah! Don’t let her know you said that.”

“I said she was deadly, that doesn’t mean I’m scared of her.” Kelantir set her fork down. “Anyway, how did you learn to cook that good without any help?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, aren’t you people rich and have servants at your beck and call?”

Inaraeon rolled his eyes. “You don’t think that there are people who happen to take cooking up for a hobby? Well, to answer your question, we did. But ever since the Scourge invaded, we’ve had to get by on our own, as you can imagine. Can’t really employ anyone when most people had… well. You know.” A remorseful glint appeared in his eyes.

…not when most people had been dead.

Kelantir grimaced. “Ah.”

“Regardless, me and my sisters managed. Because of the shortage of magi, Illianah had to work more often. So she didn’t always have time to attend to household duties.” Inaraeon sat up and began to clear our the tableware.

Kelantir couldn’t help but observe his movements. Whether he was doing chores or swinging his sword in the battlefield, Inaraeon always seemed to have an inherent gracefulness about him. Perhaps it was typical of a noble like him.

She followed suit, clearing out her own plate and utensils. “And Soranthia?” She asked, recalling the young, sardonic redhead she met not too many hours ago.

Inaraeon smiled bitterly. “She needed a lot more time to adjust to the whole situation. It took her a while to get back into the field. But that’s why I put it up to myself to maintain the house and do the cooking. At the time, it seemed like a better option than showing my face again.”

“…I’m sorry.”

“No need to apologize. You weren’t responsible for that apocalypse, someone else was.”

Kelantir could’ve sworn she saw a cold flash in Inaraeon’s eyes, but she wasn’t too sure under nothing but the candlelight.

She followed him into the kitchen and offered to help him with the dishes.

“Oh, you shouldn’t have.” Inaraeon said. “Feels a bit inappropriate to ask a guest to help me clean in my own home.”

“I insist. It was also rather inappropriate for me to ask questions leading to matters you probably didn’t want to bring up.”

Inaraeon waved it away. “It’s fine! It’s was the truth of that situation. You’ve been rather good to me, Kel. I don’t feel the need to hide any of that from you.”

Kelantir nodded. “…thanks. But this will still be quicker of we did it together.”

Inaraeon didn’t reply, but he scooted a spot for her next to him by the sink.

So the two stood by each other, with Kelantir soaping as Inaraeon rinsed.

“But to veer away from the sadness,” he turned, golden eyes fixed on Kelantir’s own. “Is it safe to say that I make the some of the best desserts you’ve ever tasted?”

“Hmm, perhaps.”

“Ah, an admission of my skill?” Inaraeon smirked.

Kelantir held up a spoon at him like a small sword, a drop of sud flinging onto his tunic. “Don’t get cocky, Firesong. I said ‘perhaps’. Still doesn’t best bloodberry tart, in my opinion.”

Inaraeon raised a brow. “Really? Blood berries are quite good for its strengthening benefits, but as a dessert? Their sourness is overpowering.”

“That’s because you don’t know how to cook it right!” Kelantir declared smugly. “…yet.”

“Yet?”

“You remember the reunion feast with the other knights that our Lady of Light was planning for the Harvest festival?”

“Yes.” He peered at her in curiosity as he finished the last of the dishes. “Where is this going, Bloodblade?”

“I plan on bringing some of that tart to the feast. So if you’re not busy, maybe before the day of the event you could come pay me a visit this time, and I could show you how to make it.”

Inaraeon closed the faucet, his golden eyes flashing. “My, my, an invitation to your home?” He offered Kelantir a cloth to dry her hands with.

“That’s what it is.” Kelantir replied matter-of-factory as she stood against the kitchen wall. “You can come so long as you behave yourself.”

Inaraeon chuckled. “Believe me, I quite familiar with restraint in terms of my countenance with others. But the question is…”

He leaned towards her, setting his hand on the counter next to her. “Will you?”

Kelantir smiled. “I behave in any way I want, Firesong. It’ll be on my turf, after all.”

“Ohoh.”

“Anyway,” she pushes the cloth onto him as she shuffles out of their close proximity. “Is that a yes or not?”

“Sure.” He replies. “It will certainly give you a week to tidy up.” He smirked.

“Excuse me! My place is perfectly clean.” Kelantir insisted.

“It will be, knowing you’ll have a guest over.”

Kelantir sticked out her tongue at him.

“How mature.”

“Oh, knock it off.”

——

That ended up longer than I anticipated. 😂 But these two are nonstop when it comes to their banter.

Anywho, I dedicate this theme to my Warcraft OC, Inaraeon. Kelantir is actually a canon character. She only appeared in one of the books though.

Prompts by @oc-growth-and-development.

#warcraft #warcraft OCs #Inaraeon Drathir #Kelantir Bloodblade #she was a minor character but not in my heart! 😭 #either way #it gave me an excuse to get creative with her #oc-tober #day 9 #sorry for the roller coaster of angst and banter guys

[wonkasmissstarshine]

The Chocolate Prince and The Lovely Maiden {Willy Wonka x Rose Bucket AU}

Chapter 5

A Girl and her (Secret) Fairy Godmothers

Tagging: @holdmeicant @frozenhuntress67 @pastelmoonwitche @arinnasweetslove​

Rose finally reached the sisters’ cottage. It was small, but it was very lovely home. There were a bunch of colorful flowers and oddly beautiful fungi that grew in the garden. It made Rose think of a fairy garden. Rose had heard stories about fairies. There was debate as to whether they existed or not. Some people say that they were small; some say that they’re the size of humans.

And then there were those that said that fairies born with an evil heart aren’t fairies at all. They were called witches. Rose had never seen a witch either, but she was sure they were real. Hell, she was positive that Avonmora was secretly a witch.

Rose and Honkers approached the front door. The clanging of various pots and pans could be heard coming from inside. “What in the world is going on in there?” Rose wondered out loud.

“It sounds like some kind of party in there” Honkers somehow thought. “How come we weren’t invited?”

Rose giggled at her goose friend. “I don’t think they’re having a party, Honkers. I’m thinking it may be chore day” She knocked on the door. Everything fell eerily silent and then a voice spoke.

“Who is it?” It was Fiona’s voice, the eldest of the three sisters.

“It’s Rose”

Suddenly, there was a loud crashing noise. And someone also made a shrieking noise. It sounded like Briona, the youngest sister. After a moment the door was opened by Liona, the middle sister. A smile graced upon her beautiful face. “Hello dear”

“Liona, is everything alright?” 

“Yes. Everything is fine” Liona said.

Rose peeked over her shoulder. There were a whole bunch of dishes, utensils, and pots and pans scattered all over the floor. “Really? Because it seems like you made quite the mess in here”

Briona popped up beside Liona. “It’s dish day for us! Our messiest cleaning day”

“Girls, step aside and let our Rose inside” Fiona said. The two sisters stepped aside, and Rose and Honkers entered the small home. “Hungry? We’ve made a few sandwiches”

“Please!” Rose took a seat at the table. “I’ve been cleaning all morning. I haven’t the time to make myself even a small meal”

Honkers hopped onto one of the other empty chairs. “Just bread crumbs for me. I’m looking a little puffy these days and it isn’t from my feathers”

Briona giggled at the goose. “You’re not puffy. You’re pleasantly fluffy” She placed a plate of bread crumbs in front of Honkers. “You’re adorable” Briona gushed over the goose. Honkers’ feathers puffed out. That was his version of blushing.

Fiona placed the sandwich in front of Rose. “What brings you by today?”

“A couple of things, actually” Rose began, pausing to take a bite out of her sandwich. “One, I was hoping to pick more cherries from your tree today”

Liona smiled. “You’re always welcome to, Rose! Remember, the cherries are fresh everyday”

“I’ve always wondered. What does make your cherries to fresh everyday?”

Fiona and Liona shared a look with each other. Then they looked Briona, ignoring the way her two sisters were staring, answered. “You could say it’s just a bit of gardening magic”

“Briona!” Fiona and Liona hissed.

“What!?” Briona asked, confused as to why her sisters said her name so condescendingly.

Fiona rolled her eyes and then smiled at Rose. “What is the other reason for you seeing us today?”

“I wanted to ask you all about something. Or rather, someone” Rose explained.

“This isn’t about Avonmora, is it?” Briona asked suddenly. Fiona and Liona gave her warning glares. “What?”

Rose became confused. “Is there something about her I should know?”

“No” Liona quickly answered. “We just don’t like to talk about her in this house. From what we hear from you, she’s a cruel woman”

Rose huffed. “You don’t know the half of it. Anyways, no this isn’t about her. This about a man I met this morning”

“You met a man?” Fiona grinned. “Is he handsome? Was it love at first sight?”

Rose snorted. “Love? No way! That man has an ego so big, the only person he could ever truly love is himself”

Briona’s face scrunched in confusion. “Well, that doesn’t sound anything like Pri-” The pink haired sister shrieked when Liona smacked her in the back of the head. “Li! Why!?”

“You talk too much sometimes, Bri” Liona sneered at her younger sister.

“Oh” Briona muttered, now realizing what she was doing.

Fiona sighed, and then pressed Rose for more information about this mysterious man. “Tell us all about him”

“Well, like I said, I only met him this morning” Rose disclaimed. The sisters all leaned in with interest as to what Rose had to say. “His name is Harry. But, just from our brief meeting, I already feel like I know everything I need to about him. He cornered me in the garden, backing me up against the wall. He said that he had been admiring me for quite some time. He gave me a gardenia, I told him that they weren’t my favorite, and now he’s going to bring me a different flower everyday until he brings me my favorite”

“And what happens when he does bring you your favorite flower?” Fiona asked.

“He said that I owe him a romantic stroll”

The three sisters exchanged looks. This poor girl. As if having to deal with her step-mother wasn’t bad enough, now she’s gained the unwanted attention of a man who doesn’t seem to understand the word no. “Sweetheart,” Liona spoke up. “You know you don’t owe that man anything, right?”

“I know” Rose sighed. “I just fear the continuous pestering I am to receive from him”

“Well, hopefully he learns to back off” Briona spoke up. “Because, he isn’t the one you’re destined to be with anyways”

Rose furrowed her eyebrows. “What do you mean?”

Fiona gave a stone cold glare in Briona’s direction. “Yes, what do you mean, Briona?”

Briona, realizing she had said too much again, nervously giggled. “Oops. There I go again. Uttering complete nonsense”

Rose shook her head, ignoring what Briona just did. Having finished her sandwich, Rose stood up, grabbing her basket. “I’m off to the cherry tree” She announced. “Thank you for the sandwich. Come on, Honkers”

Honk! “But I want to hear more of Briona’s nonsense” Honkers said as he hopped off the chair.

“You just want to stay because you think she’s pretty” 

“What? No!” Honkers quickly denied as he followed Rose out the door.

As soon as Rose was out the door, Fiona whipped out her wand. With a flick of her wrist, the mess on the floor was quickly cleaned up. “Briona, you need to be more careful about what you say in front of Rose” Fiona chastised.

“Otherwise we’ll have to put a zipping spell on your mouth” Liona added.

“I’m sorry, sissys” Briona apologized. “I don’t mean to”

“We know” Fiona said. “We’ve managed to keep the secret from Rose for this long. We just need to hold out a little longer”

“And how much is a little longer going to be?” Briona complained like she was a young child.

This time, Liona pulled out her wand. She pointed it at the table. Glittery magic came out of the end of it, and conjured up a large piece of parchment. “According to my prophecy, Rose and the Prince should be meeting very soon”

Liona was what was known as a psychic fairy. She had the ability to see the future and all it’s possible outcomes. Fiona was an alchemy fairy. She was very skilled in making all kinds of potions and tonics. Then, Briona was a garden fairy. Her magic specialty was with wildlife and plants. In fact, she had been the one to enchant the cherry tree that Rose was so fond of. Briona could also interact with animals and give them the ability to speak.

“Does this prophecy of yours include this Harry idiot?” 

Liona skimmed through the parchment. “Hmm. I see his name here. But not much is said about him” Sometimes, Liona wasn’t able to tell the whole future. Some things only became clear the closer the event would come. 

“And Avonmora,” Fiona piped in. “Anything about her?”

Liona took another look. “Fortunately, no, but I suppose that could also be a bad thing. Dark magic is unpredictable. I wouldn’t be surprised if she interfered with the parchment somehow”

Yes, Avonmora was a witch and the three fairies were very aware of that fact. The reason the fairies chose to live in the forest was to keep tabs on Avonmora. But, they knew that they couldn’t keep their own eyes on her at all times. So, enter Honkers the goose.

“Not only do we have our evil sister to worry about,” Briona started. Ah yes, Avonmora was related to the three fairies. Avonmora was the bad apple of the family, cursed with an evil heart. “But now Harry? What if he tries a love potion on Rose or something?”

“That is not going to happen” Fiona assured. “And we’ll make sure of that”

Liona nodded. “It is destined for Rose and the Prince to meet. It is destined for them to fall in love. That is what fate lies in store. And no matter what happens, no matter what Avonmora or Harry do, they cannot change fate” 

Liona took another look at the future telling parchment. “And, it is also fate that the Prince will finally slay that witch once and for all, with the help of a mighty huntress, and a young boy. Then, everything that once was, will be restored”

#willy wonka x oc #willy wonka #rose bucket #my oc #rose and willy #tcpatlm

[eviesmyspiritanimal]

Very Sneakily Accomplished

Summary: A detailing of Uma’s first kiss that just happened to be with Harry Hook that just happened to be instigated by the one and only CJ Hook. Huma fluff, a hint of Sea Three and CJ and Uma friendship.

  “Uma, you wouldn’t believe the news!” CJ proclaimed as she hurried into the Chip Shop. Uma didn’t even look in the other girl’s direction as she plopped an order down on a customer’s table. However, Uma didn’t even have to look at the youngest Hook child to know that she was carrying that same dramatic air as her older brother so enjoyed flaunting about.

  It had been a relatively boring day at the Chip Shop and she was really hoping that it would stay that way. Unfortunately, it was apparently not meant to be if CJ’s appearance was anything to go by.

  “I probably wouldn’t, so therefore I don’t care,” Uma replied simply, and she could practically feel CJ lingering closely behind her as she made her way over to the counter. She retreated behind it and CJ took a seat as she stared Uma down.

  “Oh, but you need to know it!” CJ cried out in a manner that was almost theatrical. Uma rolled her eyes, starting to wash dishes as she largely ignored the young girl.

  “After all, it could wreck your entire reputation,” CJ told her a bit quieter, and Uma paused in her dishwashing as she closed her eyes, sighing deeply as she tried to conjure patience with the kid.

  It wasn’t that she didn’t like CJ. It was more that when she got into the groove of working for her mother, she didn’t like to be interrupted. The sooner she was done with chores, the sooner she was free to do what she wanted. And there was a pretty long list of chores around the restaurant.

  Uma actually really did like CJ. She cared about her a lot, and kind of even thought of her as a kid sister, and she truthfully didn’t want to run the brat off.

  “Well?” CJ prodded, and Uma groaned as she spun on her heel, placing her elbows on the counter as she stared down the kid.

  “What news, you urchin?” Uma questioned, her voice devoid of almost any emotion as she glared at the girl and finally took the time to look at her. She was sitting there, her chest puffed with the self-perceived importance of her role in the delivery of her supposed information, and her blonde hair was a poofy mess as usual.

  “Come to a table! You need to sit down for this one!” CJ told her with a wild grin before hopping up from her seat and prancing over to a nearby table that had no one occupying it.

  Uma rolled her eyes as she pushed off of the counter, reluctantly following the blonde. Uma really thought that CJ was just wasting her time now, but she figured she’d go along with it at least for a moment.

  The daughter of Ursula plopped down in the chair, lounging back in it as she figured she would take a break for at least a moment. She propped her legs on the bottom of the table and she lounged back, perfectly relaxed as she looked at the silly Hook girl.

  “Alright, you’ve got my time. Do something with it besides waste it,” Uma somewhat gruffly told the girl, signaling her to start talking.

  CJ looked around them secretively and shiftily before leaning forward, and Uma just offered her the slightest quirk of a brow.

  “The word is that you’ve never kissed anyone before,” CJ whispered almost conspiratorially, and Uma just openly laughed at the girl. CJ withdrew somewhat, looking something between utterly offended and confused.

  “You waltzed in here dramatically, stopped my chores, and dragged me all the way over here just to tell me something I already knew? Good gosh, Calista,” Uma proclaimed, resisting the smirk that was tugging at the corners of her lips as she silently gauged the girl’s reaction to Uma’s use of her real name. Sure enough, CJ didn’t disappoint.

  “Don’t call me that,” CJ told her, all emotion disappeared from the girl’s face for a moment. But too soon, it returned in the form of that same interest, gossipy look. Uma almost groaned in reply, but she managed to get ahold of herself before she could.

  “But no, it’s not that! Well, it is that, but the word on the street is that you’re scared to do it,” CJ explained, and Uma snorted.

  “I ain’t scared. I just haven’t found one worthy of me putting my mouth on,” Uma shot back at the other girl, smirking and trying to ignore how those rumors sparked an immense irritation.

  “Well, I know that, of course! You only deserve the best, and I know you’re just waiting on that best, but I don’t know how you’re going to tell that to everybody who’s talking about your chickenness,” CJ somewhat regretfully told Uma, and Uma’s eyes narrowed.

  “Who all’s talking about it?”

  “Oh, everybody. Diego de Vil---”

  “He’s always been an idiot,” Uma effortlessly expressed.

  “Ginny Gothel---”

  “She likes throwing mud on people’s reps, and no one listens to her,” Uma smoothly replied, and CJ continued down the list.

  “Mal---”

  “She’s my arch-nemesis, why is that shocking?” Uma noted, only a hint of sadness in her voice, but she quickly shook herself from that train of thought. After all, she was not going to allow herself to mourn the loss of that complete witch. Regardless of the fact that Uma had caused that divide between them.

  “Anthony Tremaine---”

  “Doesn’t surprise me, he’s a gossip from way back,” Uma waved CJ’s words off.

  “Even Harriet!” CJ exclaimed, and Uma’s eyes met the smaller girl’s for a short moment before she closed her eyes and shifted a bit in her seat.

  “And that really doesn’t surprise me. Ol’ big sis never has liked me,” Uma pointed out, but she couldn’t shake the sudden thought that hit her concerning Harry. If Harriet had been talking about it, then Harry likely knew it. And Uma quite honestly wasn’t sure if she liked the idea of that.

  Remarkably, Uma had been thinking more and more of Harry and what he would think of things, and she wasn’t quite sure to what to make of her own thoughts. She actually didn’t like how she started pausing and thinking of Harry’s thoughts, but it was how it was. She simply chalked it up to deeper friendship.

  “So?” CJ asked after a moment, and Uma opened one eye to look at the girl.

  “So what?”

  “So, what’re you going to do about it?”

  “Nothing, I don’t reckon,” Uma replied simply, a slight smirk playing on her face as she tried to push aside her annoyance with this entire situation.

  “Oh, and I forgot! Harriet personally told me and Harry how cowardly she thought you were. It was so horrible, and I tried to tell her otherwise, and Harry didn’t say anything. So, I have no idea what he was thinking,” CJ explained in that typical dramatic manner. Uma immediately lost any semblances of a good mood as she growled under her breath. She strongly resisted the urge to snarl aloud.

  “Since when do I give a crap what Harry thinks?” Uma demanded, her voice conveying more of her irritation than she wanted to portray.

  “I don’t know! But I just thought I’d tell you,” CJ defensively told the other girl, and Uma huffed in irritation, finding that this answer didn’t satiate the angry demon growing within her.

  “Look, I’m not chicken. Heck, listen to this: I’ll kiss a boy right now! The next one that comes through that door, in fact,” Uma declared boldly as she jabbed a thumb behind her in the direction of the entrance to the Chip Shop. CJ just grinned widely, and Uma narrowed her eyes as she resisted the urge to stick her tongue out at the other girl who was looking at her so smugly.

  However, it quickly occurred to her that CJ was looking much too smug for her own good, and Uma raised an eyebrow. But before she could ask the other girl why she was looking so pleased with herself, Uma suddenly heard a voice.

  “’Ey, Uma? Ye know where me coat be hidin’? I cannae find it and I really suspect Gil took it,” the one and only Harry Hook spoke up in that affected voice. Uma turned to face the boy, and then she slowly turned back to face CJ. CJ just grinned widely, and Uma couldn’t help but note that the girl was nearly giddy with the entire situation.

  Uma just boldly stood up and headed over to the son of Hook. She swallowed hard, pushing down her nerves as she wasted no time in moving toward him.

  Secretly, Uma had been experiencing all sorts of feelings toward her best friend. He had recently undergone a growth spurt, and it was quite honestly disconcerting to her. She didn’t think she would ever witness the day that Harry Hook was actually--- dare she say it--- attractive in her eyes.

  So long had he been that tall, skinny, lanky boy that she had reluctantly grown somewhat fond of despite her best efforts to the contrary.

  But here she was, a whopping fourteen years old, and there he was, a whopping thirteen but on the cusp of turning fourteen, and she was finding herself actually nervous about kissing him. Which immensely irritated her and also kind of gave her butterflies that she found particularly uninvited.

  As she grew closer, she could feel CJ’s eyes on her back, pushing her to continue, and it was all she could do to refrain from turning around and telling the twelve-year-old precisely what she thought of her meddling ways.

  It was quickly occurring to her that she had never kissed anyone before, and despite the allegations that she was chicken or something, she found it rather tantalizing to keep it that way to avoid the risk of looking like a total moron. But there was also another half of her that pulled at her heartstrings and urged her to share that first kiss experience with Harry.

  After all, he certainly wasn’t the worst option she could have. Gil was somewhere around, and she certainly wouldn’t trade Harry for Gil.

  “Cap’n?” Harry questioned, and Uma never stopped as she reached him. This was her moment, and she had to take it. It was unfortunate, because she really didn’t want to do this. However, she kept assuring herself that she was just needed to clear her reputation.

  Harry’s blue eyes were locked with her own dark brown ones. She swiftly grabbed the opening of his shirt and yanked him down to her level before crashing her lips into his own.

  She had no idea how this was supposed to feel or how to even do it in the first place, but all she knew is that Harry Hook’s lips against hers felt quite possibly more wonderful than anything she had ever experienced. They were soft and they gave easily into her own more insistent ones.

  However, she forced herself to pull away from him quickly, and Harry’s eyes were wide as he followed the tug of her lips just barely. He searched her face, those gorgeous azure pools boring holes into hers.

  She almost couldn’t breathe with the intensity of his stare, and she swallowed hard, trying desperately to think of something witty to say but failing miserably.

  “Whoo! Nailed it!” CJ whooped, and Uma smirked, stepping back and putting a bit of distance between her and Harry. She cleared her throat.

  “Had to clear up all those rumors about me not kissing anybody before. Y’know,” Uma told him. The barest of smiles crossed his face as he seemed to wake up from whatever spell that had been cast on him.

  “Umm… But Gil’s out back if you want to talk to him about your coat,” Uma told him, and he nodded emphatically before backing up, almost tripping over a chair.

  “Uh, thank ye, I’ll head out there,” Harry responded, grinning somewhat embarrassedly before rushing for the back. Uma blinked and then she turned and headed back to the table where CJ was.

  “Spread that for me, would you?” Uma commanded, and CJ grinned widely. Uma then turned away from CJ, moving behind the counter as she dried out the inside of a cup.

  “Sure thing,” CJ replied somewhat smugly. Uma just looked up at the girl and eyed her with a somewhat playful scold.

  “Scat, you urchin,” Uma sent her off as she watched the girl’s long red coattails disappear behind her.

  Years later, Uma would realize that those long red coattails belonged to Harry’s missing coat and that CJ had been much too smug for her own good about the entire situation. She would also realize that no such rumors had been spread around about her.

  But it was all in good time, and even Uma would have to admit…

  It was very sneakily accomplished.

#huma #uma #harry #harry hook #descendants #d3 #d2 #descendants 2 #descendants 3 #descendants harry hook #descendants huma #descendants uma #cj hook #cj #descendants humor #descendants fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #fic #descendants fanfic #descendants fic #original

[mcrmadness]

I’m just wondering about ADHD again and how the doctors here say that there’s no need for testing me for ADHD because I had “no signs of ADHD in my childhood”. Well, I was born in 1991. The whole terminology and the knowledge over ADHD was different back then.

I was talking about this with my mom a couple of days ago and she said that I had troubles with homework - not that I would have not understood them, I just had such a hard time focusing on them. She said that she constantly had to remind me that I need to focus on the homework and not draw doodles or do other stuff. She sais she asked even from the school how deal with a child who cannot focus on their homework and from school they just said “Make sure the table is completely empty so there is no distractions.” but my mom told them “Do you really think that helps? All they need is a piece or paper and a pencil.” and those were the tools I had - my school books and pencil. I didn’t need distractions on the table in order to get distracted from homework.

She then also said that back then no one even talked about ADHD. It was still known as MBD aka Minimal Brain Dysfunction Syndrome and since I was not “stupid” and definitely did not show signs of learning/developmental disabilities - in fact I was learning faster than other kids - there was no need to worry about this syndrome. (Nowadays it’s apparently removed from the Finnish list but can still be used as an umbrella term for things like ADHD etc.)

I was trying to google this term now, to understand when was the term replaced by “ADHD”. I only found that this was done in the US already in the late 80s but I could not find anything about Finland, but I know for sure that what comes to things like mental disorders and neurodiversity, Finland has always been running late when compared to e.g. the US... I could only find some sort of Finnish ontology and thesaurus website and it says that the article about MBD was created in 1986, but the article about ADHD only in 2000. That would mean I was 9 years old (and my social anxiety and selective mutism were starting to really grow), and ADHD was still considered very much the “disorder of hyperactive boys”. This website does not even know the term ADD so I have no clue when did they start using it for the first time (in Finland). I just know that my sister got the diagnose along with an Asperger’s Syndrome somewhere in the mid 2000s. Now I’m starting to feel like I want to go find some old books about psychiatry just to see when did they start talking about ADHD and ADD in Finland and how did they describe it as BEFORE they discovered it exists also in girls (and since I’m afab, I most likely have the inattentive version), because this is just driving me so crazy.

I just... I don’t know. I just feel stupid because why is it me who needs to read about the history of psychiatry? Shouldn’t it be the psychiatrists doing so? But I do wonder what would he say if I went to him and really said that “no wonder they never suspected AD(H)D in me as a child when the term literally did not exists in Finland yet”. I just feel like I need to start writing down something like a book about my experiences. Collect EVERYTHING I can find that I have written over the past 15 years in the internet and copypaste them into a file and print this out to him. My brain just empties itself when I’m supposed to talk to a doctor but then I just face these things in everydaylife 24/7. And he just wants to give me antidepressants for anxiety. Okay, he did offer me occupational therapy too but I am afraid that it will just... kill my creativity again. I mean, look at my “timetable” for one week if we think I’d have a random person visit me once a week, let’s say e.g. on Tuesdays:

Monday: Nothing - the resting day after weekend aka no way I’m gonna get anything done. Know that there will be occupational therapy next day - don’t get anything done because mentally trying to prepare yourself for that. Tuesday: Hypothetical occupational therapy. Not possible to get anything done beforehand. Afterwards you’re so tired and the day is done so just sit around the flat and feel like going crazy from bored but be unable to do anything because TIRED. Wednesday: Nothing - the resting day after the therapy. The next day is a grocery store day. Start mentally preparing for that. Can’t do shit because of that. Thursday: Grocery store day. Can’t do shit before or after. Before because can’t start anything in case unable to stop in time - and when having to force a hyperfocus to stop when it’s not stopped on its own, it makes me so irritable and absent minded because can’t think of anything else but that one thing I was hyperfocusing on. Friday: Nothing - rest day after grocery store day. Mentally prepare for the weekend on which I usually always visit my parents on both days. They live in the same city, just less than 2km away but I still can’t start anything before that really, and I come back home so late I won’t be able to do much. Weekend: Visit parents on both days.

And then repeat. So when am I gonna draw? Edit videos? Write? I always do the creative things at night because PEACE and because my brain just works better at nighttime - ALWAYS has. I even found a diary entry I had written when I was 13 or 14 and I had been fighting with my parents because I always did my homework so late and my dad didn’t understand that, and I was then screaming in my diary that they just don’t understand that I am not ABLE to do my homework earlier than in the evening/at night, it’s just not possible to do them right after school.

Already now as I have about 3-4 free days in a week, sometimes even 5, I feel like I need more free time from my free time. I’m constantly thinking about how I want to do this and that, like I want to draw, write, edit videos, write... they are on the top of my mind 24/7 but still it takes weeks or months to get anything started. I just wrote about this yesterday that I feel like I have two moods: either too little time AND energy or too much time but a plenty of energy. There’s no in between. Now I am lucky to have too much time for myself but it also means I have all the time in my hands so I can always procrastinate and do everything the next day because I have time. Which means I won’t do shit, because I have no deadlines, and I start doing those things only when everything lines up perfectly. It’s never a decision to take my sketchbook and start drawing. It’s more of an impulse - I just feel like now it’s the day for drawing and suddenly find myself holding the papers and pencils in my hand.

Same happens with chores, chores just never make me feel good unlike doing one of these fun things. Oh and chores are also something that will make it hard to do the fun things because I kinda... don’t let myself start doing the fun things if I have the not-so-fun things undone. Which means again procrastinating and postponing something like dishes for days. I am not sure where have I got this mentality. Because like... wouldn’t it be a lot smarter to let myself to draw instead when I KNOW I can’t start doing the dishes, instead of punishing myself with “no washing dishes, so no drawing either”? Because as a punishment it does nothing. It does not motivate me with the dishes. They will be there for days or weeks anyway and they will be done only when I get that impulse to finally do them. Or, usually it’s not an impulse even. It’s just me needing food and in order to get food, I need to cook and in order to cook, I need clean pots and pans and in order to get those, well, I need to do the dishes.

I think this mentality partially comes from my school time. I aways knew how to prioritise my homework so that I get them done the most efficiently I could. Which meant that I always made the less-interesting homework first and the homework from subjects I liked, the last. I did this because when I started with the stuff I had harder time focusing on, it made it easier to focus on the interesting stuff. If I had started with the interesting stuff, I’d have had a lot less concentration and energy left for the less interesting homework and the chances of understanding a word of what I read would have been very minimal.

I still pretty much use this with everything I do - work first, fun later. I guess for neurotypicals this is not a big deal and probably something they all do, but my brain really wants to do the fun first and the work never. (By work for myself I mean things like chores etc. When I was actually working, it actually went: work first, fun never - because I was so tired after work I could not do anything that involved brains.) If I start with the fun, I literally will never do the work part. So I have to have the work first, even when it means I will procrastinate with EVERYTHING else too. But that is the only way to get it done at least at some point. It’s just that I feel like my life is nothing but work. I always have to shower, do the dishes, clean the kitchen table or start cooking. (Let alone the rest of the stuff like cleaning the HOME.) It’s a neverending worksite. I barely have time for fun because I don’t let myself to do that because the work is not done yet. But it just... never ends.

I think the reason why I hate chores is because no matter how many times I do them, I still always have to do them again soon. I shower, but I need to shower again in a few days. So it feels like it’s a waste of energy and time! Why to shower now when I have to do that after a couple of days anyway??? I do the dishes but there they will be again in a few days as I keep eating from them! Washing a plate after every use is also not an option - then “it’s just one plate” so it’s easy to put it in the sink because it’s not a big deal to wash it with other plates after a couple of days. Until it’s been 2 weeks and there’s again the rest of my plates in there and I hate my life again because I never remember how much washing the dishes also makes my back hurt but I need clean utensils because food.

But when I create something or play a video game, there is always a finish line and once you get past that, you don’t need to start over UNLESS you want to! When I draw something and it’s finished, it will stay like that! It’s not going anywhere, it won’t fade, I don’t need to draw it ever again if I don’t want to! So it’s not waste of my time, it’s something that will last almost forever. And I love the dopamine rush I get when I look at a finished product, but I don’t have the dopamine rush when I look at my cabinet with clean plates because I know they won’t stay like that forever. They won’t stay like that even for a few days. And that literally kills my motivation with every chore I need to do.

#mcrmadness' deep thoughts #adhd #adhd inattentive #long post

[mrsrcbinscn]

Mother Mayhem || bdrptask

Word count: 6241

Description: Different moments between Franny and her mother, Sophea, featuring a common thread.

CW: Nothing triggering is discussed in detail but I wanna put some content warnings for the following; violence, implied slurs, slut-shaming, violence, mentions of what you’d expect from broaching the topic of Khm*r R*uge

Sophea Sor was never one to hide things from her daughter. Many survivors of war and the like shielded their children from their stories but Sophea was always straightforward about why she had to leave Cambodia. 

 Age appropriate, of course. 

 She didn’t whip out words like killing fields and genocide when her daughter was small, but she did explain that some very bad people caused some bad things to happen. She explained that people were very sick, very sad, and very hungry but couldn’t find food, so that was why she had to come to America.

 As her daughter grew older, she filled in the gaps.

Five years old…

 Mak had to leave Cambodia because people were fighting and hurting each other, and people they weren’t even fighting with got hurt too.

“Mak, I’m sleepy,” five year old Darareaksmey complained, crawling into her mother’s lap the second her mother sat down for probably the first time that day. 

 Without taking a sip of water from the plastic cup she’d just filled, a woman ran her hands, the color of the spiky balls that fall from sweetgum trees through the little girl’s hair and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. She pulled the hair tie out of her own hair and began to work her daughter’s hair into a braid.

 “You’ll be even sleepier after we finish cleaning the restaurant, baby. Then you can go straight to bed instead of tossing and turning until you do fall asleep.”

 “I want to go to bed nooooow.” The little girl pouted, crossing her arms across her chest and letting out an indignant huff. “Why do I have to clean, I’m five. Jobs are for adults.”

 “It’s not a job if I’m not paying you, silly.” Sophea Sor said, tying the ponytail holder around the braid. “It’s just chores. Kids don’t get paid for chores. Be lucky yours are inside and we don’t have a farm.”

 “Ew, farm cows are smelly.”

 “That’s right, now do you think you can mop the floor while I finish the dishes in the back?”

 “Mhm. Can I sit down a minute first?”

 “We can start after we finish this water.”

Six years old…

 A lot of people died, that’s why Mak doesn’t have a daddy, and she got separated from her own mak. None of her family could come to her wedding because she wasn’t sure if any of them were still alive and where in the world they might be. That was why little Darareaksmey being supportive of her mother marrying Adrien was so important.

 “Let go of my hair, Art! Or I’ll beat you up!” Darareaksmey shouted at her soon-to-be brother as he pulled on her braid, making her flail her arms wildly in her attempts to wallop him. “I’m gonna break your face!”

 Gaston groaned as he flicked a fuzz off of his wedding clothes, realizing he was going to have to step in if they kept this up. He did not want to step in! Dara might be younger than him and Art both but she could punch! But if he teamed up with her and hit Art, then Art would get mad and say he betrayed his brother for their step-sister, and Dara would cry because she can stay ‘step-brother’ all she wants but the second the boys say ‘step-sister’ she throws a fit, and then she and Art would just start a new fight.

 Being the big brother was exhausting sometimes.

 Luckily, Gaston didn’t have to choose whose side to fight on, because Sophie glided into the room to pry the youngest two apart.

 “Dara, be nice to your brother,” Sophie muttered, gently tugging her hair out of the braid to re-do it.

 “He started it! And he’s not my brother, he’s just Adrien’s son!”

 Sophie sighed and with one hand continued to unbraid her daughter’s hair, and with the other, beckoned Art to come closer. “That’s not what you were saying a few days ago, when we tried on your dress for the wedding. You said you were excited to have two big brothers.”

 “That was before I realized Art was mean!” Dara stuck her tongue out at him.

 “Brothers and sisters are mean to each other. Sometimes. Other times, they play together. But all of the time they don’t let anybody else be mean to each other.” Sophie explained as she started to fix Dara’s hair. “But. Art should apologize for pulling your hair.”

 Sophie stared at Art with disapproving mom eyes until he shuffled his feet and looked down at them sheepishly. “I’m sorry I pulled your hair, Dara. And called you ugly. And said I didn’t want an ugly sister. And said your flowers smelled like butt. They don’t smell like butt.”

 “Am I ugly?”

 “You’re not ugly, I was just being mean. You’re a perfectly not ugly sister I’m excited to have after my daddy marries your mommy!”

Twelve years old…

 About a quarter of the population of her mother’s home country died during the Khmer Rouge regime. Franny was lucky to have been born at all, and she should be very proud her mother taught her their language and culture.

 Franny couldn’t remember the last time someone other than her mother used her given name except to make fun of it. Even her brothers called her Franny by then.

 It was the start of a new school year and Franny dreaded the first day; not because of having to wake up early, not because of having to do homework again soon, but because new school years meant new teachers and new teachers. And new teachers for Franny and the handful of other children of Southeast Asian refugees in town meant a horrid butchering of their names at roll call.

 It was the same song and dance every year.

 Inevitably, one teacher would get to Phuc Kieu’s name and say something that sounded like “fuck you” and the class would laugh while Phuc meekly raised his hand and said, “You can just call me James.”

 Serey Mam was lucky, it wasn’t hard to correct ‘Siri’ or ‘Sare-ee’ or ‘Sar-ee’ to ‘Sa-rey.’

 It was the Lao kids that Franny felt most sorry for. Franny could only pronounce and spell Chanthanouvong, Douangphachanh, Nanthavongdouangsy, and Sibounheuang because she was also Southeast Asian so she bothered to learn. But at least with Serey’s name, teachers tried. With the Lao names they took one look at them and said ‘time to butcher it in the most egregious way possible.’ 

 She had mad respect for Chitpasong Nanthavongdouangsy, who refused to go by an “American name” and forced teachers to learn to say Chitpasong. “I was born here,” Chitpasong said one time. “Chitpasong is an American name because I’m an American person.” Franny wished that six year old Darareaksmey had had that resolve, and wished twelve year old Franny could summon it, but she didn’t. She’d rather only hear Darareaksmey from her mother because at least she said it right.

 “You look a bit glum.”

 Speak of the devil and she shall appear.

 “Hi, Mak.” Franny said, waving as she grabbed the last of the dishes from the soapy water to rinse it.

 “What’s wrong? Don’t want summer to end?”

 Franny shook her head. “No, I kind of miss all my friends. You know, the ones not in bicycling distance. I just don’t like the first day.”

 Sophie let her daughter rinse and dry the final dish before she pulled one of the dining chairs out and snapped her fingers, manicured nail pointing down at it. Franny sat down as her mother grabbed the brush from her purse resting open on the table.

 “Were girls mean to you last year?” Sophie asked as she got to brushing the knots out of Franny’s hair.

 “Not really, I just punch them if they are.”

 “Darareaksmey, we don’t resort to violence.”

 “It’s my last resort, I promise, but it’s on the table.”

 “So what’s wrong?” Sophie grabbed the hair tie from around her wrist and held it between her teeth as she started to braid from the top of Franny’s head. “You let me get this far, so you’re trapped now.”

 “It’s the teachers. I hate roll calls on the first day.” She admitted. “I feel embarrassed.”

 “About?”

 “My name.”

 That gave Sophie pause but her hands quickly got back to work on Franny’s hair. “Why?”

 “They...say it wrong. Nobody can say Darareaksmey.”

 “It’s not a name from their language, I’m sure it is difficult.”

 “They don’t even try, it’s why everyone calls me Franny, nobody has ever tried. And it makes me feel embarrassed and sorry that I have such a weird name.”

 Sophie was quiet for a long moment, her deft hands working at her daughter’s hair, until she spoke up again. “Are you embarrassed? To be Cambodian. About your name.”

 “No...it just feels bad when they get it wrong. So I let them call me Franny. Is that bad?”

 “No. I let them call me Sophie, don’t I? As long as you know how powerful your name is and why it's so special.”

 Franny turned her head toward her mother but Sophie clicked her tongue and angled her head back forward, muttering something about her hair looking lopsided if she did that again. “Heeeeey, I was paying attention to you.”

 “You’re trapped in this seat, you have to pay attention even with your back turned.”

 “Fair.  Why’s my name special?”

 “Because you are. I thought very hard about your name. Darareaksmey means ‘bright, shiny star’. I know you remember I was raising you alone before I married your father. You remember, right?”

 Franny, truthfully, sometimes forgot that Adrien Framagucci wasn’t always in her life. It was easy to forget that he wasn’t her biological father because she had never known any other man to be her father. She didn’t know her biological father’s name. Did she want to? Maybe. She hadn’t ever thought about it enough to decide anything; or to consider there was anything to decide.

 Adrien raised Franny. Not only raised her, but he’d wooed her by proving what a great dad he’d be at the same time he was courting her mother. When he came to Mr. Tran’s home to pick Sophie up for dates, he’d bring Franny some amaryllis flowers he’d grown himself. A thanks for letting me borrow your mother today, he’d say. When Franny won Kindergarten student of the month at her elementary school, Adrien asked Sophie if he could treat Franny to a celebration dinner. When Franny mentioned the memory offhand a few years later Sophie said he did that to audition to be Franny’s dad.

 Your father always knew that if he wanted me to believe he loved me, he’d have to love you, too. You were always part of the deal. He wanted to be your dad so he got to proving it to you.

 If her original dad didn’t even stick around long enough for her to remember him but the dad she had put as much effort into wooing her as he did with her mother...then was it worth knowing about him? At twelve, Franny didn’t think it was.

 “Yeah, I remember living in Mr. Tran’s shed with you.” Franny said.

 “It used to be a shed. Mr. Tran fixed it up to be a tiny little house, we had a tiny little kitchen and air conditioning! Right, so you remember it was just me and you...we aren’t the only Cambodians in Clayton County, are we?”

 Franny shook her head. “There’s some at my school. And some that live in Lovejoy, Riverdale, and Jonesboro that work at the restaurant.”

 “Mhm. Are any of them your Aunties and Uncles? I know we call everyone Auntie and Uncle, but are they my brothers and sisters?”

 “...y...yes? Yes, right?”

 Sophie shook her head. “Not one. You’ve heard me talk about my brothers and sisters in Cambodia, right? The ones I climbed trees with or who helped me sneak back into the house at night, I talk about them sometimes. I had eleven of them.”

 “...had?”

 “I’m not sure how many are still living. Or where they might be.”

 “Don’t you have their phone numbers, Mak?”

 Sophie chuckled, the warmth in it seeming out of place to Franny even at that age. It seemed like her mother was broaching a very sad and difficult topic. Cambodia was always a toss-up. It was either sad or so happy it sounded like heaven or nirvana. This did not seem like the setup to one of her mother’s rose-colored talks about Cambodia.

 “Or can you write letters?”

 “I don’t know anything, my love.” Sophie admitted. This was the first time Franny had heard her mother say ‘I don’t know anything’ since she’d been alive! “I know some of the ones who died early on during the Khmer Rouge. Because I was there when they did. But eventually we became separated, and by the time I escaped to Thailand I didn’t know where they were. My brothers, sisters, my cousins. My own mak.”

 “What about your dad?”

 “Dead. That one, I know for sure.”

 “...what happened?”

 “That part, I’ll tell you when you’re older. You’re still a child, dear. I’m only telling you some of the basics today.” She cleared her throat and continued. “I escaped across the border into Thailand and accepted I’d never see my family again. I decided it would be an insult to them to not keep living though, so I waited to be resettled to a safer country as a refugee. First I was in Thailand. Then at a re-education center in The Philippines. And then I found out I was going to America. I wasn’t here very long when I got pregnant with you.”

 “You weren’t married or anything?”

 “I was not. And I had to stop working where I was working, and then I didn’t have any more money. That’s when I walked into Mr. Tran’s restaurant and tried to trick him into thinking I was Vietnamese. He picked up my Cambodian accent right away and told me that we are united by the wars waged by the West in our countries and by our struggles in America. Mr. Tran gave me a job, right away, and even let me move in with his family. Until he converted the shed into a little house, we lived in the main house with his family. We shared a room with his youngest daughter.”

 “Leah?”

 “That’s right. So. I was alone. I was unmarried. I barely spoke English at the time; I knew French and Vietnamese from Cambodia, of course Khmer is my native tongue, but my English was embarrassing. Still is.”

 “No way, Mak! You speak English better than anybody who says that about you!” Franny argued, whirling her head around to face her mother now that she felt her hands move from her hair. “Who says that about you? I’ll cook them into soup!”

“Not. The. Point.” Sophie chastised bonking Franny on the nose with the pad of her index finger to emphasize each word. “The point is. It was a scary time for me when I first came to this country. And then when I found out I was pregnant with you it was even scarier. I wondered if I should give you up so a family with more money could raise you. Mr. Tran isn’t wealthy himself, you know, it was a situation where the poor were helping the beggar. Sometimes I still think you would have been better off...but I couldn’t do it. Maybe it was selfish to keep you, but I was so alone. I knew I’d probably still be lonely after I had you. Babies don’t learn to talk for years and even then, you’re my child, not my friend. But I could raise you to love Cambodian culture. I could teach you my language. I could make sure you knew the beautiful parts about where you came from. After everyone I ever knew was either dead or scattered who knew where around the world, I decided that raising you to be a proud Cambodian would be worth all of that loneliness.”

 Franny, had she been a couple years older, would have cried. At fourteen she might have had the emotional depth to fully comprehend what she meant to her mother. At twelve, she understood a great deal, but it did not quite move her to tears. Though, she instinctively reached for her mother’s hand, and gave it a squeeze.

 For a moment, she thought she saw the ghost of fear in her mother’s eyes, or the closest thing to it she could place at that age when her biggest fear was wasps.

 “Do you miss Cambodia, Mak?” Franny asked quietly.

 “Every day. It is a beautiful country. But it is one I will never see again so there is no use dwelling on it.”

 “Don’t say that, we can go someday.” Franny said, pouting.

 Sophie clicked her tongue at her daughter, shaking her head. “It’s too expensive. No go to your room and finish your homework. I don’t want to hear a single guitar chord until you finish.”

Twenty years old...

 The purging of intellectuals included doctors, students, artists, and musicians. The grandfather Franny never got to meet was a doctor and he died because of it. Her mother had been a university student, studying to be a doctor herself, and lied that she was a seamstress to survive. One of brothers she knew did not survive had been a musician. Sophea had more reasons than financial stability to worry about her daughter insisting on doing music.

 Franny supposed she was lucky.

 Unlike some of her first-generation friends, her mother didn’t put that much pressure on her to marry a Cambodian man. There was never any matchmaking, any suggestions of an arranged marriage meeting, nothing like that. However, the first question Sophie asked when Franny told her mother that she had joined NYU’s Southeast Asian Student Association was “are there any nice Cambodian boys, Darareaksmey?”

 It was then that Franny understood that her mother hoped for a Cambodian son-in-law even if she would not pressure her to select one.  It was also clear to her that while her mother accepted her bisexuality, she did tend to assume she’d end up married to a man, perhaps even wished she would. In the 90s and early 2000s though, Franny took that as a blessing.

 Franny did intentionally go on dates with a few Cambodian guys. She’d even had a third date planned with one.

 Enter Cornelius Robinson. Mega-genius. Absolute nerd. Hair you just wanna run your hands through. Mild-mannered. Kind. Actually interested in what she had to say. And very Not Cambodian.

 It was frankly embarrassing how quickly she was all in for that man. She didn’t have to spend all that much time with him for her to understand how her mother must have felt when she began seeing her father.

 Christmas break rolled around and she figured she should introduce her boyfriend to her family. Franny’s jaw fell right between her feet on the ground at how suspiciously well it went. 

 Hours later, she was positively mortified when, instead of telling Cornelius he could sleep in one of her brothers’ rooms, her mother followed up ‘just follow Darareaksmey to her room’ with ‘and keep it down if you get naked.’ Franny covered her face with her pillow, muttering, ‘Neil, just press down. Smother me now.’

 “Do you like him?” Franny asked her mother while they folded the laundry one afternoon.

 “Your boyfriend?”

 “No, Mak. Daddy. Of course I mean my boyfriend. So, do you like Cornelius or n-- ow!”

 Sophie withdrew the dish towel she’d just whipped Franny’s arm with and her warm laugh filled the room. “Don’t sass me, girl. I do. He’s a very rich man you’ve got wrapped around your finger, and he isn’t even old enough to be your father.”

 “Mak!” Franny’s turn to wack an arm with a dish towel. “I’m not with him for his money...okay, it’s nice that he takes me grocery shopping sometimes so I can eat decent food. But other than that I don’t care about his money.”

 Well...maybe she did a little. It wasn’t the or even a reason she began seeing him, but it was a perk she was now enjoying just like her cooking was a perk he got to enjoy. But money could only entertain her for so long. If Cornelius didn’t make her soul feel at home the way he did not even his bank account could have kept her.

 “Cornelius makes me very happy. I actually - I actually miss him when I don’t get to see him for more than like a day. I never thought I was clingy with guys or girls I dated. Guess I am.’

 “Oh, Dara. You’re just in love.”

 “Yeah, I guess I am. Are you angry?”

 Sophie stopped folding the pair of jeans in her hands and let them crumple into her lap. “Why would I be angry?”

 “He’s not Cambodian? I don’t know. You wanted me to date the Cambodian boys in the Southeast Asian Student Association.”

 “Honey,” Sophie cooed, reaching for Franny’s hand. “Only if you wanted to. I’ll admit a part of me hoped you would find a nice proud Cambodian boy. It would be wonderful if you had a husband who would help teach your children Khmer-”

 Franny bit her tongue, holding back a reminder that they’d hadn’t been dating long enough to consider marriage and kids, and that she was only twenty. Nevermind that Franny had been thinking about those things privately. Oh, not in detail. She didn’t have their future children named or anything, though, she had come to the realization that if she tried to picture herself married one day then it was to Cornelius Robinson. The idea of being a mother kind of freaked her out...but if she added ‘mother to Cornelius Robinson’s children someday’ to it, she got all giggly thinking about it.

 It was still a little early to say the M-word or the K-word to Cornelius but it wasn’t like it hadn’t crossed her mind. Franny was in love, after all.

 “- because a part of me does worry about our culture going away with your childrens’ generation if you don’t. But this is America, where there’s all types of people, not just Khmer, Chinese, Cham, or Vietnamese people. You can marry anybody you want. I speak English now anyway.”

 “Mak, I’d teach my kids Khmer.” Franny said.

 “You will?”

 “How else will we gossip about all the snobby rich families at the country club right in front of them?”

 Sophie bursted into laughter, shoving Franny over onto her side on the floor. “Oh, don’t be a gossip! Now sit up, we'll finish the laundry later. Let me do your hair so I can tell you all about the Inthavongs’ divorce.”

Twenty-three years old…

 Her mother’s life even after coming to America had been harder than Franny fully understood for most of her life up until around the time she was married. She thought she knew all about her mother’s struggle because it happened right in front of her, but there were so many parts Franny was missing.

 “Look at my handsome son-in-law! Oh, come, come, let me take some pictures to email to my brothers and sisters.”

 “Mak, they were at the wedding, they know what Cornelius looks like,” Franny whined, clinging onto his arm. “He flew them in, remember?”

 “You’re supposed to be wiping down the tables, Darareaksmey.” Sophie reminded her, gesturing around the restaurant. “Here, I’ll get that server apron off you. Thank you for helping out with dinner Cornelius. So generous with your time when you’re visiting, such a good man.”

 “He’s married, Mak.” Franny deadpanned. Sophie grabbed a mint from the bowl by the door and before she even threw it at Franny her daughter ducked for cover. “You’re getting her in the divorce!”

 It might have been the couple’s first visit to Georgia since they married a few months ago, but Cornelius knew this routine by now. In about four minutes the play-fighting would be long since over and his wife would be hanging onto her mother telling her how much she loooooved her, or how much she wanted them to treat her to a nice meal out tomorrow, or mention how priceless the look on the blonde sales lady’s face would be if two women who looked like them bought a much too expensive dress with her husband’s black card. 

 After knowing Sophie, it was clear where Franny got her...well, a lot of things from. Of course a woman like that raised Franny. Of course.

 The jangling of the bell attached to the front door interrupted Cornelius’ admiration of his wife and mother-in-law.

 Franny lifted her head up from cleaning a table. “I’m sorry, we’re closed for the nigh--”

 “YOU WHORE!” Screeched the woman who had walked in the door.

 “Hey!” Cornelius exclaimed, the scary, unfamiliar feeling of anger bubbling in his chest. “That is my w-”

 When Sophie was the one struck by the woman’s backhand, it was clear it was not Franny who was the target of that slur.

 “Did you expect me to be in the dark forever? How dare you hang around this town! How dare you show your face here!” The woman, blonde hair greying and pale skin beginning to show age, berated Sophie as she continued her assault. “You and my husband’s bastard child, right under my nose!”

 Cornelius blinked in surprise; he would have thought that his wife’s sperm donor of a biological father would have confessed to his wife about his infidelity much sooner than now, almost twenty-four years later. She must have just found out. Why else would she come to the restaurant that late at night breathing fire out her nose -- good god, he was starting to think in Franny’s folksy sayings.

 He was frozen in shock and a tinge of fear (he never was one for physical fights, see) just long enough for Franny to be the first to act. Sophie seemed fully aware of what was happening and also fully able to defend herself, yet for some reason unwilling to.

 Franny lunged forward and grabbed the oldest of the three women by the hair and tugged her away from Sophie. “Paws off my mother! She did nothing wrong!”

 The woman (if Cornelius remembered correctly, Franny’s biological father was named Peter Boyd), Mrs. Boyd, shrieked and flailed her arms until one connected with Franny hard enough to stun her into losing her grip. Mrs. Boyd turned on Franny immediately.

 “Ha! Nothing wrong? Nothing wrong? Your mother opened her legs to a married man, that’s why you’re even here! Lying like a Persian rug. I should lay you out like one.”

 “Fucking try! I’ll lay your ass out and step all over it, you wanna talk about Persian rugs.” Franny challenged, stepping around Mrs. Boyd to block her from her mother. 

 Mrs. Boyd lunged at Franny, but Franny had been in more fights that the genteel politician’s wife could have ever been in. It took her an embarrassing number of tries to land a punch on Franny and when she did, she didn’t miss her shot. While Franny was stunned, Mrs. Boyd grabbed Franny by her hair and threw her against the wall.

 It felt like hours to him that he was frozen in place, but it couldn’t have actually been more than a full minute between Sophie first being slapped and when Mrs. Boyd landed her punch on Franny. That one action finally connected Cornelius’ eyes to the rest of his body. Mrs. Boyd drew back her fist and in a display of speed and athleticism that he could never repeat again, Cornelius crossed the room and wedged himself between Mrs. Boyd and his wife.

 Lucky for him, she wasn’t a very strong puncher.

 Unlucky for him, she was wearing her ring and his cheek sliced right open.

 “You just punched my husband.” Franny snarled, reaching for a chair. “You. Just punched. My husband.”

 If Cornelius thought Franny looked scarily pissed off when a man put his hands on her at a bar, he ain’t seen nothin’ back then. If they were in a cartoon, smoke would have billowed from her nose and ears as she shoved him behind her.

 “He got in the way, that’s his fault!”

 “He has nothing to do with your cheating husband preying on and manipulating a refugee who barely spoke English into thinking he cared about her and would take care of her. Your shitty husband is the one you should be beating up right now!” Franny hissed, her grip on the chair tightening.

 “Shut up, [slur I won’t type]!”

 It was dead silent. Not one of the four of them moved. Cornelius could have sworn he heard a heartbeat that’s how quiet it was.

 Franny was the first to break the silence.

 “I’ll count to three. If you aren’t out of my mother’s restaurant when I get to three, what happens next is your fault.” 

 Mrs. Boyd scoffed. “Like I’m afraid of some gold-digging musical theatre major.”

 “One.”

 “You aren’t really going to hit me with a chair, are--”

 “Two.”

 “I’ll have you arrest--”

 “Three. GAH!” Franny only had to fake her out for her to run out the door shrieking. The chair was already back on the ground before the door had even shut. “I’ll lock the door. Mak, can we put a dish towel on his face?”

 ---

“Franny ow,” Cornelius protested as, back at her parents’ house, Franny landed a light-but-strategically-painful punch on Cornelius' arm. “Why are you mad?”

 “Because you got hurt!” She snapped, folding her arms across her chest, her eyes watering. “Why would you do that?”

 “I didn’t want her to hurt you or Sophie…”

 Franny whined. “Baby, you name your robots. You can’t take or throw punches. I’m the badass in this marriage, you’re the sweet, gentle one. I hate that you got hurt because my sperm donor’s wife would rather blame a poor lady and her daughter instead of her shitty husband.” “Honey, she slammed your head into the wall.”

 “And?” Franny knocked on her skull. “Sounds hollow to me. I don’t think there’s any brain cells left there to kill.”

 Cornelius gave a huff of a laugh through his nose, reaching for Franny’s hand to play with her fingers. He didn’t say anything, just held her hand and waited for her.

 “I’m sorry you had to see my family’s dirty laundry. Not like you didn’t already know, but.” Franny said, staring down at their hands. “I thought his wife knew. The worst part is, I can understand her. I’d hate my mom and I too if you-- not that you would -- I don’t think you’d-- I just mean--”

 “I know.” Cornelius said, leaning over to kiss her forehead.

 Sophie glided into the living room, her hair kit in hand, and gestured for Franny to sit up straight. Franny opened her mouth to protest that she didn’t feel like getting her hair messed with right now, but snapped her jaw shut as quick as she’d opened it. Just let Mak do her little ritual, it wouldn’t hurt no one.

 “I’m sorry this happened, Mak. I should’ve been quicker to fight for you.” Franny said, looking down at her hand in Cornelius’.

 Sophie tsk tsked and tugged the hairbrush a little hard, Franny swore it was on purpose. “It was overdue karma, my love. I slept with a married man whether I knew it or not at the time. Not knowing doesn’t make it any less wrong.”

 “It does too! He was the one married and lying to you! And the one tried to force you into an abortion when that wasn’t the right choice for you. How are you near as responsible as him?” Franny argued.

 “Humans see grey areas. Not everything in the universe does, dear.  Besides, I won anyway. Even after today.”

 “How? All three of us look like the school bully took our lunch money. I mean, look at him! He and Lucille have a press thing after we get back to New York, he’s gonna look like I shanked him during a domestic!” Franny looked over at Cornelius and pouted at his bandage.

 “I’ll tell the press I fought valiantly, honey. You were a worthy opponent.” Cornelius teased. Franny hissed, exactly like her cat, then immediately kissed his temple.

 “I win in the end because I get to have you as my daughter.” Sophie explained, starting on the actual braid. “I don’t regret any part about my path crossing with Peter Boyd’s because I had to go through it to get you.”

 Franny was silent a long moment, her eyes watered in lieu of her finding her words. She only squeezed Cornelius’ hand tighter, and when she had words again only managed so squeak out, “Maaaaaak, you can’t say things that nice while you’re doing my hair. It’ll be all lopsided if I move to hug you.”

 “That’s why I said it when I did.”

Thirty-five years old…

 Franny was coming to understand that she would never truly be able to understand everything about her mother’s life in Cambodia. The more she knew, the more she didn’t know.

 Franny sat behind her mother, brushing out her hair, as the recording device captured their conversation. At the moment, all it was capturing was Franny’s stunned silence as she sat there, mouth agape, hairbrush frozen mid-brush in her mother’s salt and pepper hair.

 What do you say to your mother recounting in gruesome detail her father’s death?

 She spoke like all she was recalling was the serial killer’s M.O. in the last Criminal Minds, her tone calm, detached, there was even a nervous laugh in there.

 “Mak…” Franny whispered. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

 “The book was my idea, Darareaksmey. I want you to help me talk about what happened to my country and our family before I’m an old woman and can’t remember things. The world deserves to know what it let happen.”

 “It can’t be easy for you. How do you just...live after that?”

 “It isn’t easy. Keep brushing.” Sophie waited until Franny’s hands were once again busy with her hair to continue. “A lot of people don’t, I imagine. Surviving must eat some people alive. It got to me, at first.”

 Franny set the brush down and started on the braiding. “Did it?”

 “Why was my escape successful but the woman who suggested the method I used get caught when she tried it, why was I able to survive the student purge but my friends weren’t, why did the cut on my foot eventually heal but my sister’s infection kill her, and do I even deserve to be alive...things like that, I thought about those things every day in the refugee camp. Once I was able to actually think about anything but being hungry, anyway.” Sophie explained. 

 While Franny braided her mother’s hair it occurred to her that this was the most honest that her mother had been with her about her feelings (re: living through the Khmer Rouge) in all of her thirty-five years on the planet. Regarding the straight facts, Sophea Sor Framagucci was a straightforward woman. She would tell you in detail how any and every traumatic event went down but never once had she talked about how she felt or what it all did to her.

 Though, she couldn’t imagine detailing every single trauma in her life and how it affected her for Wilbur either.

 Perhaps it felt strange to Franny because her mother’s trauma was a major historical event that numerous books, movies, documentaries, and articles talked about. She knew so much about the event itself but the raw, human, emotional aspect of it was all new.

 “It’s funny because deciding not to live was never an option for me. Even before I had you. I just kept thinking about how I didn’t want to let the people who did this to me win, and I can only do that by living. So I existed. For a long time, it was just existing. I learned to be alive again. Especially once you started talking and having a personality that wasn’t just ‘Being A Baby. That’s when being a mother goes from being just a responsibility to a responsibility that makes you smile and laugh.”

 “Mm, it’s a good thing you told me that part at thirty-five and not fourteen. As a mother, I understand what you mean. As a teenager that would have killed my self-esteem.”

 “Impossible, your ego was much too big at that age. It almost could’ve used a beating.”

 “Don’t you know that was the classic pretend you’re better than God because you actually feel like trash act?” Franny said, tying the hair tie around the braid.

 “Can’t say I’m familiar. It’s never been an act for me.”

 “Mak!” Franny laughed, playfully nudging her mother. “No wonder I have a god complex on Tuesdays.” A beat. “We can stop. If you need to.”

 “I’ll tell you when I need a break, my love. I’m okay.”

#bdrptask #&&...hc #600 words they said how about a 17 page google doc i said

[photorose11]

An Unbreakable Bond Ch. 7

I am back and finally here with chapter seven. Hopefully this chapter will make up for how short chapter six is. lol  Hopefully not many typo’s in this, I spent forever going over it just to make sure. A few more characters enter this fic, starting here. :) Also for some clarification on the ages in this story: 

Karin & Yuzu Kurosaki = 15. 

Ichigo Kurosaki = 19.  

I know it is told in the story that Ichigo is a senior, let’s just say him and his friends all graduate at 19. I mean they seriously missed a lot of school in the manga, maybe they all got held back a grade? LOL Just go with me here. lol Also, did anyone else know Toshiro Hitsugaya’s age is 80 and he is supposed to appear 10? I always figured he was ‘younger’ then Rukia. So let’s say in this (since its been like three years) he’s more 83 looking like he’s 15. LOL

Disclaimer: I don’t own Bleach. (just my love for writing fics)

Chapter 7. Connections

Rukia's eyes fluttered open at the sound of birds chirping outside the window. She blinked a few times before looking over towards her right, where Ichigo was still asleep. She couldn't help giving a smile, seeing his face buried in the pillow. She went to sit up, as he moved to lay on his back, clearly still asleep. An idea popped into her head.

Leaning forward, face hovering over his. She watched as his eyes started to flicker open before she bent down, pressing her lips to his. She heard him make a sound in the back of throat, obviously surprised. He responded back slowly, hand reaching to entangle in her hair. She pulled back after a moment, opening her eyes and gazing down at him.

He was blushing slightly, before giving her a smirk and leaning up to lay back on his elbows. She sat back, giving him a coy smile back.

"Morning to you too, Midget."

Her eyebrow twitched at his words, before she stuck her leg out, pushing her foot into his side. He fell onto the floor, wrapped up in his bed sheets. She couldn't help but smirk as she looked over the bed to see him tangled in the bed sheets; glaring up at her.

"Don't you think you should be calling me something else now?" He squinted at her, trying to see where she was going with this.

"Such as?" She laid sideways on the bed, head poking out over the bed to look at him still on the floor; elbows propped up and her head in her hands.

"I don't know.. like 'dear' or 'hunny' or even 'bunny'" Her eyes lit up at the last one, as he cringed. He could not imagine calling her that. Plus he hated bunnies.

"I would rather jump off my roof in human form then call you that." He muttered, still cringing. She rolled her eyes at his exaggeration.

"Plus, no matter what I call you you're still a midget so I might as well-"

Before he could finish his face was being smothered by his pillow as she straddled his waist. He flailed his arms before reaching for her wrists, trying to get the pillow off. She laughed above him before pulling the pillow off, his face was red as he panted for air.

"Why you-" he sputtered before he realized she was on top of him. His face then became red for a different reason. All she could do was smile in accomplishment.

"Ichigo, you are a fool." She said sweetly to him before getting out of his lap and going to grab some clothes from the dresser drawer. He untangled himself out of the sheets with a huff before laying them back on the bed where they belonged. He watched her walk to the bedroom door and open it as he walked behind her, shutting it before she could walk out. She turned around, willing to throw another pillow in his face until he leaned down to kiss her. He put his hands on her waist, gently pushing her back into the door and slightly pulling away to look at her with a smile on his face.

"Still a fool." She whispered out before leaning up and kissing him back.

--

An hour later the pair were dressed and ready for the new day; cooking breakfast. Isshin sat at the kitchen table with them, sipping his coffee. Once done they sat down at the table in silence and ate before Rukia spoke up. "When will your sisters be home?" she asked, as she finished off her eggs with vigor. She could get used to his cooking.

"Should be another hour I think?" Ichigo said, looking at the clock. It was an hour before noon. Rukia nodded her head before sipping her coffee.

"Do you have any plans today Isshin?" She asked, turning her head to looking over at him. He looked up from his newspaper givng her a smile before replying.

"Just clinic work today my dear third daughter! It's usually pretty busy in the summer." He got up to put his empty coffee cup in the sink before walking over to Ichigo and ruffling his hair. Ichigo batted his hand away in annoyance. Rukia laughed.

"Alright kids, I'll be in the clinic. If it's not busy I'll be back in an hour to see my two lovely daughters reunite with their wonderful third!" He exclaimed loudly before running over to the poster of Masaki with tears streaming down his face talking about how happy he was to know his daughters will be reunited soon.

Ichigo ignored him while he finished his breakfast. Rukia watched on in amusement before looking over to Ichigo, who rolled his eyes in response muttering 'crazy old man' under his breath as Isshin left to head to the clinic, 

Rukia got up as Ichigo finished and cleared the plates off the table. She began washing them as he stood beside her grabbing a clean towel to dry them with.

"You know you don't have to do that, right? You're on vacation." He said before grabbing the clean plate from her hands and beginning to dry it before setting it in the rack.

"I actually enjoy washing dishes. I don't get to do stuff like this while living in the Kuchiki Estate."

She didn't get to do any chores living with her brother. Then again she was always busy with paperwork and the duties that come with being a Lieutenant. 

But she still enjoyed the simple things. Ichigo nodded in understanding while he continued to dry the washed dishes.

"I thought you'd be moved out of the Estate to be honest, since you're a Lieutenant now." He said, while he finished drying the last dish. Rukia turned the water off, mulling over his words. She went to dry her hands before leaning her back on the kitchen counter.

"I thought about it.. I was given the option once I was promoted. Lieutenants and Captains have their own corridors in their Division. But after the war with Aizen.. It wouldn't have felt right to leave the Estate. Nii-sama was very worried about me." She said softly, before looking at the ground. Ichigo couldn't help but be a little surprised hearing that her brother was very worried. He knew that Byakuya cared for his adopted sister. He was just never very good at showing it.  Noticing her declining mood, he grabbed her hand and led her to the living room sofa. They sat down next to one another as he waited for her to continue.

"He has been pushing for awhile about me taking some time off to relax. He knew how hard it was for me after returning to Soul Society. I really think he knew I missed you."

She glanced over at him then as he gave her an understanding look back. He would always understand. She gave a smile leaning back on the sofa as he did the same. She curled her legs up on the sofa, still holding onto his hand. "I've been thinking the last few months about moving into my own corridors now though. I wont be to far away from the Estate. Ukitake will be in the next corridor over and his illness has been acting up so I think it will be good to be close to him."

Ichigo sat back and though about her words. He was sad to hear about Ukitake not doing too well, the Captain had always been very kind to him. He was happy for Rukia, if she decided to move out of the Estate. He supported her no matter what decision she made on the matter. He couldn't help but to think about his friends in Soul Society.

"How's everyone been doing since the war?" he asked gently. He knew the war with Aizen was a sensitive subject for both of them. He glanced at her, as she looked down at their intertwined hands before leaning into his shoulder.

"It was hard for everyone at first. Renji was okay.. but was worried about everyone else. Rangiku was heartbroken about Gin's death, and she was worried about Captain Hitsugaya.. who still blames himself for what happened to Momo.." she trailed off, feeling a little breathless after saying what she had. She held onto his hand tighter before continuing.

"We all became a lot closer once we returned. We took turns seeing Momo in the hospital, Hitsugaya was there every night and was training every day for months afterwards. It was his way of coping with what had happened. Rangiku made sure to never be too far away. I decided to train with him weekly."

She couldn't help the tears that came to her eyes. She had never been very close to Hinamori but she cared for her just like she cared for every single one of her comrades and friends. It broke her heart to see Rangiku heart broken over the death of Gin, and Hitsugaya heart broken over what happened to his best friend. The times she did train with the 10th Division Captain, the look in his eyes made it very obvious how much he was hurting. Rukia looked up to see Ichigo giving her a concerned look.

"Is Momo still..." he really didn't want to ask the full question. He remembered what had happened to Hinamori very vividly. It was something he had had a few nightmares about. He may not be her friend but she was still his comrade and it hurt to remember. Rukia nodded her head before clearing her throat to explain.

"She is still alive. She's still in a coma though. They don't know if she will ever wake up. Unohana has tried everything she can think of to help her, but nothing has worked. Rukia leaned more into him, giving a shaky sigh before continuing.

"Hitsugaya still trains, not as much as before but still pushes himself when he does. He still visits with Momo almost every night." Rukia then remembered a conversation her and the 10th Division Captain had had a few days before Ichigo had gotten his powers back.

"He's actually been wanting to take a day and get clearance to come to The World of The Living to visit Karin. But he's afraid if he leaves and the worst happens to Momo.. he will not be able to live with himself."

Rukia could feel a migraine coming on, she knew it was from her holding back her tears but she could not let them fall. She had cried enough the last two years. She felt her breathing calm down as she took deep breaths; when she felt Ichigo stroke his thumb over the top of her hand; a silent comfort she was very grateful for.

"After dad told Karin and Yuzu everything, he said Karin asked him if Hitsugaya was still alive. Apparently, she got pretty emotional when he told her that he had gotten injured but he was going to be okay. Karin never gets emotional.. not since after mom died."

Rukia's eyes widened at that. She knew the Captain was friends with Karin but did not realize how much he meant to her. She watched Ichigo as he scrunched up his eyebrows, squinting at nothing in particular. Rukia could only imagine where his mind was going.

"You don't need to worry, Ichigo. Karin may be friends with a Shinigami but no harm is going to come to her. I wish he would visit though.. he needs some time away. I really think it would make him feel better if he saw a friend." Ichigo sighed at her words, while hanging his head. He knew she was right. As Karin's brother, it was just weird to think about.

"Ah, I know. It just kind of weirds me out. I mean, Karin is the same age as I was when I met you!" He said while rubbing his neck. Rukia leaned forward and smirked at him, waiting for him to realize what he had just said. A moment later he whipped his head around, looking at her with wide panicked eyes as his mouth fell open.

"You don't think.. I mean, she's fifteen!" He exclaimed loudly. He suddenly felt sick thinking about it. Rukia held back her laugh, not wanting to insult him but it was kiind of funny to see his reaction to the possibility of "feelings" being involved between his sister and Hitsugaya.

"Do you think you loved me the first year you knew me, Ichigo?" she asks with a smile. He looked at her thoughtfully, before he took his hand out of hers and wrapping it around her shoulders.

"I'm positive I did, yeah."

"That first year would you say you protected me with your life?" She asked, leaning more into his chest. He laid his chin on the top of her head, knowing the answer to her question without hesitation.

"I'd say I protected you since the first day I met you, Rukia." she smiled warmly at his response.

"Then you have nothing to worry about. Plus they're just friends." He sighed again before looking up at the ceiling.

"I mean how old even if he? Is he around your age.. does he still look like he's twelve?"

Rukia couldn't help but laugh out loud at that before playfully slapping him upside the head.

"Hey, It was an honest question."

He rubbed his head before grinning at her, he knew she thought it was hilarious.

"He's gotten a little taller."

"Unlike you?"

"OW! Rukia, that one actually hurt!"

--

Half an hour later, Rukia is anxiously waiting for Yuzu and Karin to arrive home. She couldn't hide her excitement.

"You're really excited, aren't you?" Ichigo sat on the sofa watching his girlfriend pace the living room floor. Without hearing a response, he got up and stopped her pacing; placing his hands on her shoulders. She looked up at him right as they heard the front door unlocking. Her eyes widened and an excited grin broke out on her face.

"Go hide in the kitchen while I greet them." He whispered before giving her a short kiss. She skipped to the kitchen as Ichigo went to greet his sisters at the door.

"Ichigo, we're home! OH! You're right there." Yuzu laughed, seeing her brother right by the door. Which was very odd for him to do. Karin followed in behind her sister, giving her brother a strange look before her eyes went wide. Ichigo gave a puzzled look back. Karin was looking him like she knew..

'shit, she can sense my spiritual pressure.'

He had completely forgotten that Kain's abilities had grown stronger over the last two years. It seemed after Ichigo's powers were gone, hers grew. Unlike Ichigo, she was very good at sensing  reiatsu. It was a good thing Rukia was in a Gigai and had better control over her reiatsu then he did.

"I'm going to put our bags upstairs, Karin. Then let's have a snack." Karin nodded watching her sister go up the stairs before turning back to her brother, an eyebrow raised in question; silently demanding answers. He wondered if he should just play stupid.

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Why are you leaking reiatsu everywhere?! I thought your powers were gone." She whispered, even though she knew no one could hear her.

"Let's just say, it's been an eventful weekend." She squinted her eyes at him, urging him to give more information. Thankfully, Yuzu came down the stairs then.

"How was your weekend, Ichigo?" Yuzu asked while heading to the kitchen, Ichigo and Karin trailing behind her.

"I was actually pretty good." He said, with a growing grin on his face. They were very close to finding out why.

"Oh, why's tha-" Yuzu stopped in her tracks. Eyes wide, looking at the raven haired Shinigami standing in their kitchen.

"Hi Yuzu, Karin."

"RUKIA!!" The girls rushed over to her enveloping her in a hug. Ichigo could tell Yuzu was crying, even Karin looked a little teary eyed. Ichigo watched the happy reunion before he glanced over seeing his father behind him, watching as well.

"So son!" Isshin said, slapping his son on the back. Ichigo lurched forward, but caught himself and gave his father an irriated look.

"When should I expect grandchildren?!"

The teens face turned red, scowling at his fathers question before wrestling him to the ground.

"YOU CAN'T JUST ASK SOMETHING LIKE THAT YOU OLD MAN, AND IM ONLY NINETEEN." He screamed at his father while putting him in a head lock. The girls broke a part from their embrace, watching the dramatic scene unfold in front of them.

"BUT IMAGINE HOW BEAUTIFUL THEY WILL BE, SON." Isshin had happy tears streaming down his face as he broke out of Ichigo's head lock. Rukia realizing what the conversation was about, blushes before walking to the dramatic men before grabbing Ichigo by the ear and dragging him away from his overly enthusiastic father.

"OW, OW, DAMMIT RUKIA, you're gonna tear my ear off!" Rolling her eyes, she let go before walking back over to the girls who looked highly amused at the scene that just unfolded in front of them. Shortly after, they sat down at the table; as Ichigo and Isshin brushed themselves off before sitting down as well.

"Rukia, how are you here?! Did Ichigo get his powers back?!" Yuzu asked excitedly as she looked between Rukia and Ichigo.

"Yes, he did. Kisuke developed a sword that I was able to draw my spiritual energy into and I was able to give him half of mine." she stated softly, a growing grin on her face. Yuzu teared up again before getting up and giving Rukia another hug.

"Thank you so much! He's been so sad since you've been gone!" She stated tearfully into Rukia's shoulder. Rukia softly patted her on the back before Yuzu pulled away and sat back down.

"I understand. I was very sad too." she confessed, her gaze turning to Ichigo. In moments like this it hit her all at once that she was the opposite of sad now. She went from being incredily depressed to incredibly happy in three weeks time.

"How long are you staying?" Karin questioned.

"I have twelve more days here before I have to head back. I was able to request two weeks off once Ichigo got his powers back." The girls smiled happily at her before Rukia turned her gaze to the center of the table, her face turning somber.

"I want to apologize to you both. I should have explained what had happened before I left. It was unfair to you both for me to leave without saying why." The twins eyes widened at her words, realizing she was blaming herself. To everyone's surprise, Karin spoke before Yuzu could.

"You don't need to apologize, Rukia. Dad told us everything. I will admit.. I was angry at first because I didn't understand. But I get it now." Rukia met Karin's eyes, seeing complete understanding in them.

"Karin is right. It's nothing you need to be sorry about. We know it was very hard for you to go back after Ichigo lost his powers." Yuzu said softly, before reaching a hand out over the table to grab Rukia's.

"You're so strong, Rukia.You and Ichigo both." Yuzu said smiling, feeling the tears in the back of her eyes. Rukia felt her own tears in the corners of her eyes. 

She knew they were her family. She couldn't imagine them not in her life. Her connection to Ichigo was life altering, in a way she had never experienced before with anyone else. She felt so lucky to be able to have a connection with his family as well.

For the next hour the Kurosaki family sat around the kitchen table catching up. Yuzu made tea and brought out some chips and cookies for everyone to much on as they all chatted.

"So how have things been for you, Rukia?" Yuzu asked sweetly before grabbing another cookie.

"Things have been good. I was promoted to Lieutenant." She said proudly. They all grinned and congratulated her.

"Thank you. Aside from that it's been.. busy. But things have calmed down since the war. Things have gotten a lot better over the weekend as well, since Ichigo got his powers back." she turned her gaze to Ichigo who was trying not to blush, realizing what exactly she was tallking about. She met his eyes and couldn't help but smirk.

"What was THAT?" Karin questioned rather bluntly, eyebrows raised at her brother and the Shinigami.

"Hmm? What was what?" Ichigo asked, breaking his eye contact with Rukia who in turn stifled a laugh behind her hand.

"Ohhhh! I saw it too, Karin!" Yuzu said excitedly, leaning forward on the kitchen table while looking between the two. Rukia felt her face heat up at their realization.

"Something happened between you two! I can feel it! Do you guys even realize what your reiatsu does when you're near each other now?" Karin questioned them, while leaning on the kitchen table as well. She was obviously smirking, waiting for them to fess up what she already knew.

"Wha-? What are you talking about?" Rukia was rather confused. She knew she was good at hiding her reiatsu, Ichigo not so much. Was her reiatsu coming out when she was near Ichigo and didn't even realize it?

"You haven't noticed? It's like.." Karin then made a weird swirling motion with her hands.

"It's like.. swirling together? Or more like recognizing each other and meeting? It's kind of cool, I've never seen anything like it before." Karin said with a grin on her face, patiently waiting for them to confess. Yuzu squinted at the pair, as if she was trying to see their spiritual pressure too. Rukia's eyes met Ichigo's again, waiting for him to say something. Ichigo realized they were all looking at him, even his father was with his elbow propped up on the table and holding his head in his hand.

"Please, do tell son." Isshin said with a huge grin on his face, which only made Ichigo turn more red. He scowled before throwing his hands up in defeat.

"Fine! You guys figured it out. I shouldn't really be surprised. Me and Rukia.. are together now."

Their were gasps around the table, even from his father. Ichigo glared at him, laying his hand on the table.

"Why are you sounding so surprised? You found out the night she came back!" He stated with clear agitation in his voice. The girls laughed before speaking up with excitement.

"I'm so happy for you both!" Yuzu squealed excitedly, practically bouncing out of her chair.

"Me too. It's about time." Karin said while leaning back in her chair, a smirk still present on her face. The new couple blushed, looking down at the table.

"Thank you both. And I agree, it was about time." Rukia said, laughing in her voice. The girls laughed at her remark before laughing even harder at seeing how red their brothers face was.

Once they were calmed down, Rukia glanced over at Karin. She knew she wanted to talk to her about something and felt now was the time.

"Karin. Would it be okay if you talked with me upstairs for a minute?" Karin looked over at Rukia, confusion in her eyes.

"Sure." She got up, and Rukia followed. She passed Ichigo, giving him a kiss on the cheek before following Karin up the stairs. She heard Yuzu squeal and Ichigo mutter 'oh, shut it' before making it all the way up the stairs. Karin went to her room, Rukia right behind her. Once inside she shut the door behind her. Karin went to sit on her bed and Rukia went to sit on Yuzu's. Karin had her back to the wall, her lehs cross crossed as she looked back at Rukia.

"So what did you want to talk about?" She was rather curious about what her shinigami friend had to say. Rukia gave a sigh before looking up, meeting the young girls eyes.

"I want to talk to you about Tōshirō Hitsugaya." Karin's eyes widened at her reply. She hadn't heard his name in a long time.

"I know he's your friend. I also know your father talked to both you and Yuzu and told you everything, and he told you Hitsugaya did survive the war." Rukia looked down at her hands resting in her lap. Karin felt her heart race up and Rukia talked about her friend.

"He has told me himself that he's been wanting to visit you the last two years, but there is a reason why he hasn't been able to." Rukia looked up at Karin. Her eyes were wide and Rukia could tell she was slightly shaking. Rukia slowly stood up from Yuzu's bed and went to sit next to Karin. She sat cross legged next to Karin before continuing.

"During the war.. his best friend Hinamori Momo was severely injured, because of Aizen." Rukia heard the young girls breath hitch. Rukia instinctively took a hold of one of her hands in hers and held it between them. She didn't think Karin even noticed.

"He.. he told me about her. How he grew up with her. She's like a sister to him." Karin blinked back tears, feeling the pain in her chest knowing her white haired friend has been hurting all these years.

"What exactly happened to her?" She asked hesitantly. She wanted to know but she was scared. She knew the war with Aizen was awful, with many people injured and dead. She was furious Aizen had done this to her loved ones.

"I feel it is not my place to tell you, it's Tōshirō's. The only reason he has not visited is because Momo is in a coma, and has been since the war. He's afraid to leave Soul Society, even for a day. Because he is scared the worst will happen to her. He will never be able to live with himself if the worst does happen and he isn't there by her side."

Rukia took a deep breath, trying not to become emotional. This was a very hard conversation to have with Ichigo's little sister. She knew it was effecting Karin, because her hold on Rukia's hand tightened as she bowed her head and held back her tears.

"I know.. this is hard to hear. But I know you needed to know. Tōshirō is also my friend and means a great deal to me. I want to help him, just as I'm sure you want to as well." Rukia scooted closer to Karin as the younger girl trembled.

"He didn't deserve this, neither did Momo. He is a good person, Rukia." Karin looked up then, a few tears leaking out as she looked at her friend that she saw as an older sister.

"I know, you are right. I don't understand why bad things happen to good people." Rukia said softly, through her own tears that she was holding back. Rukia thought about what she could do to help her friends. Then an idea came to her. She jumped out of the bed, motioning for Karin to follow her. She entered Ichigo's room and went to his desk where she had laid out a few of her things. Seeing the Soul Candy, she showed it to Karin and explained what it was for.

"I'm going to use this and enter my Soul Reaper form." She went to lay on Ichigo's bed, so her Gigai would not fall on the floor.

"Once I do, I'm going to summon a Hell Butterfly. They can be used to send messages to Soul Reapers in Soul Society. I can send a message to Tōshirō. What would you like me to tell him?"

Karin gaped at her, realizing what Rukia was telling her. She sat next to Rukia on the bed, her mind blank for a moment. As she thought, Rukia popped the Soul Candy in her mouth beside her in Soul Reaper form, sitting beside her on the bed.

"Can you tell him.. I understand why he hasn't visited. Tell him my father told me everything about Ichigo and about the war with Aizen. And that I don't know what exactly happened to Momo, but I'm sorry. And he's not alone." Rukia smiled at her, before nodding her head. She went to summon the Hell Butterfly before Karin stopped her, laying a hand on her wrist.

"And also that I miss him too." She whispered. Rukia looked into the young girls eyes, understanding.

"Ofcourse, Karin."

Karin watched as she summoned the Hell Butterfly. It landed on Rukia's finger, and she watched as Rukia closed her eyes and silently communicated the message. Once she was done, it flew off her finger and went out the bedroom window, heading towards it's destination.

"Thank you, Rukia."

"Anytime, Karin."

--

In the tenth Division, Captain Hitsugaya sat at his desk trying to focus on paperwork. It had been hours and as hard as he tried, he couldn't focus. His Lieutenant was nowhere to be seen and he sighed in aggravation at the thought of that. He considered going out to train for a few hours but knew he shouldn't. He had recently gotten word Momo's health was starting to rapidly decline. He felt it was best not to stray too far from her, just in case. He looked up and sighed again, before he noticed a Hell Butterfly heading towards him. Confused, he lifted up his finger as it lands at it's destination.

His eyes widen in shock at hearing Rukia's voice but even more so at what she has to say. Once the message has ended, the Hell Butterfly vanishes and he leans back into his chair before looking out the window; a small smile on his face. Karin may not be someone he has known for decades, yet it still felt like they had known each other that long; if not longer. He had felt a connection to her in a way that he really had only ever had with a few people. He was happy to hear from Karin Kurosaki. It was the best thing to happen to him in a long time. But his eyes grew sad, thinking back to Momo. Knowing what was surely to happen soon.

"I am sure you will see me soon, Karin Kurosaki."

#an unbreakable bond #chapter seven #ichiruki #ichiruki fanfiction #ichiruki fanfc #ichigo x rukia #rukia #ichigo #rukia kuchiki #ichigo kurosaki #shinigami #bleach #bleach fanfic #bleach fanfiction #ichiruki love #kurosaki family #yuzu kurosaki #kurosaki karin #hitsugaya toshiro #toshiro hitsugaya #toshiro #tōshirō hitsugaya #captain hitsugaya #connections

[raidbossmadi]

People Like Us Chapter 5

5.Settling In

Previous Chapter : Here 

Sloane awoke slightly surprised to be in a strange bed before she remembered where she was,  that this was home now. Tyreen was notably absent though the sounds of the television coming from the other room was enough of a reassurance that the other siren was still close by.  

She walked into the living room and found that Troy was sitting on the sofa scrolling through his echo-feed. She noted that he looked a little rough around the edges, well rougher, but he didn’t seem like a morning person to her anyway. Tyreen on the other hand clearly was, as she was in the kitchenette working away on breakfast.

“Morning Sloane, glad you decided to take us up on our offer. We were a little worried you just might decide to dash.” Troy purred as he set down his echophone to give her his full attention. “ C’mon sit down, Ty’ll be done with breakfast in a second and we can go over the plans for today.”  He patted the cushion next to him and smiled, his augmented canine teeth glinted as they caught the light making the smile seem more like a warning than a welcome.  

“Thank you, Troy...err...Father Troy…I um, how do you two want me to address you?” Sloane squeaked as she slid into the spot on the couch next to Troy.

“Just Troy and Tyreen are fine at least in private. You’re not one of the followers out there. You’re here with us.” The way he spoke about their followers made it seem like he sorted people into two groups, the people like them and the outsiders. Sloane was just  pleased to find herself included in the us.  

Tyreen finally stepped out of the kitchen carrying a tray with breakfast and coffee on it. Sloane noticed that two cups were marked with a specific symbol on each, one with the crown design that was painted on Tyreens door and the other the now familiar twin snakes that decorated all of Troy’s things, the other of course was just a blank mug.

“I’ll have your mug customized once Troy designs you an insignia, we all have one it just makes life easier when you're doing the dishes and laundry and whatever else needs doing around here.” Tyreen remarked, taking a seat on the other side of Troy.  

Sloane glanced at the plate that sat in front of her, a waffle and some eggs. She had been slightly nervous that the self styled twin gods would only be fond of eating foods she’d never heard of but the simplicity of the food in front of her put her at ease.

“You read the report about the fancy new tech Maliwan put out?” Tyreen asked her twin. Sloane noticed that while Tyreen was drinking coffee she notably was not eating anything. She filed that away under an ever growing list of questions she had towards the twins.

“Yeah, looks like some quality stuff, I’d like to get my hands on a gun and take it apart, see if I can’t learn anything.”  

“You like engineering then?” Sloane asked as she recalled what Tyreen had said about the ship being Troy’s baby.

Troy turned to look at her and quirked a brow pointing to his prosthetic arm. “Built this myself, and before we picked up the crew I did all the work on the old Centurion here. Still like to fix her up, so yeah it’s a bit of a hobby of mine.”

She blushed feeling a bit embarrassed, she supposed that should have been more obvious.  At least she knew a little more about him now though, she could start to read Tyreen but Troy was harder to get through to and not just because she’d spent less time around him compared to Tyreen so far. Both the twins were guarded but in different ways, neither of which seemed easy to crack.

“I’m gonna go take care of those things you wanted me to before the stream tonight Ty.” Troy stood and began to make his way out of the room before he remembered something and stuck his mechanical hand over the couch in Sloane’s direction.

“Give me your phone, gonna set you up with one of ours. Gotta monitor your activity and all to make sure you’re not sending unauthorized messages to anyone.” He demanded. She fumbled with her pocket for a moment before producing the phone and placing it in his hand. She almost expected him to crush it in his palm but instead he merely snorted as he looked it over before he left without another word.

“Right so while Troy’s off doing his chores, I need to head up to talk to some of the crew. I’ve arranged for the high priests to show you around the ship in the meantime. You’ll be meeting up with me on the bridge to take care of those biometrics after that.” Tyreen explained as she disappeared back into her bedroom to change into her usual attire.

Sloane finished her breakfast in the silence of the now empty room before a knock at the door interrupted the calm. She found Jaxon and Helios waiting just as Tyreen had said.

“Good morning Sister Sloane. We hope your first night aboard the Centurion was a restful one. Come along and we will show you the important places aboard the ship.” Jaxon said motioning for Sloane to follow.

“As I’m sure you’re aware this is the Centurion’s second level,  we’re just leaving the Twin Gods private wing and moving into the second floor common space.”

Sloane stepped through the doorway partitioning off the twins wing from the next area of the ship. The halls of the ship were a bit more busy now, with more of the hooded priests milling about though they quickly tried to look busy as the High Priests passed their way.

“The Bridge is located straight ahead, but you aren’t due until later this afternoon. This way to the lift, we have a lot of ground cover.” Jaxon gestured in the direction of the lift the three of them heading down to the lower level.

The tour was largely uneventful in Sloane’s opinion, they showed her the bar and the meeting space she had been brought into upon her arrival to the ship. The Priests had advised it was better to leave the engineers to their work so simply showed her the engine room from the viewing gallery. By the time they had made it back upstairs Sloane was ready to curl up and go back to bed but she was gently nudged in the direction of the bridge instead.

“And to your left is the infirmary, Dr.Spectra is immensely talented and will be sure to patch you up good as new.”If there was one thing that Sloane had learned in this tour it was that Jaxon had to enjoy the sound of her own voice. “Anyways, it is time we return you to the God-Queen. We wouldn’t want to keep her waiting.”  

Finally being led through the door to the bridge Sloane was greeted by the sight of Tyreen standing near the center of the room talking to the woman who had taken the Priests ID’s when they had brought her onto the ship, Lydia, she recalled, was the woman’s name.

“Oh good, Priestess Jaxon didn’t bore you to death.” Tyreen said with a smirk.

“I simply informed our newest Sister of the in and outs of the ship God-Queen.” Jaxon reassured.

“Yeah yeah, Sloane, this is Lydia. She’s the chief of engineering, she’s gonna get you all set up.” Tyreen beckoned Sloane forward and she stood in the  space between Lydia and Tyreen.

“Right first things first, let’s activate your medi-chip.” Lydia said, reaching around Sloane’s neck to remove the collar before sliding a small band over one of the sides then slipped it back around her neck.  

“It feels the same?” Sloane hazarded.

“That little band has a micro-needle on it, you can’t feel it but it’s reading your vitals and all that. Troy and I have them to keep track of each other, and now Troy and I will be keeping track of you as well.” Tyreen said as if it were something everyone did casually.

“Now I just need you to come over here and stick your hands on this screen. Need to get your hand-scan in the system so you can get in the doors.” Lydia said corralling her over to the aforementioned screen. Sloane was a bit surprised at how thoroughly the twins handled security on their ship, granted she had never been on a space faring vessel before now.

“How many people are on this ship anyway?” She asked looking over at Tyreen trying to pass time as the computer completed it’s scans.

Tyreen tilted her head, eyes narrowing in thought. “About a hundred and fifty at any given time, we swap out crew when we visit our hub worlds, keeps people from getting stir crazy. Though important folks like Jaxon and Lydia here are always on duty.”

“And it is a pleasure to be in your eternal service God-Queen.” Lydia said leading Sloane back over.

“Aw Lydia, you flatter me. ” Tyreen cooed clearly loving every bit of attention. “I’ll have to tell Troy I’m your  new favorite!”

“With all due respect ma’am, I don’t think the God-king would take well to such insinuation and I rather like my position… and my head attached to my body.” Lydia kept her tone submissive but absently rubbed at a mark on her neck that Sloane only noticed now.

“Hmm you make a good point, took us long enough to find you to replace the last head engineer didn’t it? That’s alright, it can be our little secret.” Tyreen’s playfulness seemed much more threatening now, it was obvious that she thought she was just messing around but she was also clearly reminding the other woman of just who she was speaking to.  

With Sloane now in the Centurion’s system it seemed Tyreen was antsy to get out of the ships bridge there was a clink of metal as Sloane blinked and realized the God-Queen had clipped a leash to the d-ring of her collar.  

“Come along now Sloane, Troy and I have that stream soon.” She said pulling on the leash as she began to walk away.  They walked back down the hidden set of stairs that Tyreen had first brought her up on, arriving in the Ship Cathedral only now instead of the dimly lit room it had been when she had been presented before Tyreen it was illuminated with stage lights.

“Well look who made it with more than ten minutes to spare.” Troy teased his twin as he approached.

“Yeah yeah, is Iris on set yet?” Tyreen replied giving her nails a once over.

“Of course, she’s over in the wings as usual.” Troy squinted up at something Sloane couldn’t make out before letting out a low growl. “Hey! Idiots in the box you’re gonna wash out the set, turn those damn brights down.”

Tyreen tugged in Sloane’s leash again. “Best to get out of Troy’s way during set up. He tends to be a bit of a perfectionist when it comes to this stuff.”

Off to the side out of the way of setup was a room set up with a hairdressers chair and makeup station, various pieces of clothing Sloane had seen the twins wear at one point or another were hung up on racks. In the center of the room stood a woman who looked about Sloane’s age, wearing a shirt with the CoV logo emblazoned on the front. As she looked up from the clipboard she was reading her purple hair fell in front of her face, which she brushed away before noticing her guests.

“Ah! God-Queen, is it time for your make-up?” She asked, her eyes flicking to Sloane.

“In a moment Iris,  first I wanted to introduce you to our new family member first. Sloane, this is Iris, she’s in charge of keeping Troy and I looking stunning. She does a pretty stellar job I think.” Tyreen praised with a smile. “Iris, this is Sloane, she’s the stray Siren Troy and found on Eden-4.”

“Ohhh,so you’re the one Father Troy was talking about.” Iris said looking over at Sloane. “You want me to watch her while you both are streaming tonight?”

“If it’s not too much trouble of course, I can always ask The high priests to handle it if you’re busy.”  

“It’s no trouble at all God-Queen. I’m sure we’ll get along just fine.” She said with a smile.

“Ty.” Troy leaned in the doorway interrupting the women’s conversation. “Get ready the boys want to push the screen test up a couple minutes.”

“Yeah yeah, I’ll be out in a minute.” Tyreen reassured rolling her eyes as Troy left. “Brothers am I right, when am I ever late for anything? Sloane be a dear and sit over there like a good girl while Iris and I do our thing yeah?”  

Sloane obediently went to the chair in the corner of the room and sat watching as Iris took Tyreen over to her work station. She zoned out for a bit until Tyreen walked over to her.

“Right, you be nice for Iris, one of us will come pick you up after the stream. Have fun you two!” Tyreen said as she headed out the door.  

“Sooo, how long have you been with the CoV then?” Sloane asked Iris, she was different from the other inner circle members Sloane had met so far in that she and the twins seemed to have a much less formal relationship.

“Around three years, wow I can’t believe it’s been that long already...They rescued me from slavers, Troy and Tyreen that is. Been a part of the family ever since.” Iris explained while she worked on tidying up her workstation. “What about you, I mean I know you’re new but what drew you to the twins?”

“They wanted my vault and I wanted to stay with them because, you know to be completely honest I don’t know how to put it in words, I mean sure there’s the whole thing of them being powerful and obviously knowledgeable about the whole siren thing.  But also there’s just something in me that saw them and wanted me to follow them, maybe it’s a siren thing I don’t know.” Sloane shrugged knowing she wasn’t being terribly helpful but it was the truth, something had magnetized her towards the twins, something beyond their charismatic smiles and smooth talking.

Iris paused for a minute seemingly processing some thought about what Sloane had said. “Hm you’re right, Sirens really aren’t in my wheelhouse. Don’t let that put you off though, why don’t we go grab something to eat, get nice and cozy in the media room and watch the stream?”

That was the first normal sounding suggestion Sloane had heard from one of the twins' entourage in her short time with them. She had a feeling that she and Iris would come to be good friends as they got to know each other.

“That sounds great honestly.” She agreed and was relieved when Iris made no move to clip a leash to her collar the way Tyreen did. Instead walking to the bar to pick up a pizza as if they were well established friends.

__

Tyreen leaned against the crate of weapons they had been  gifted by the citizens of Eden-4 before they left as the crew buzzed around her setting up lighting and positioning the cameras. They were unboxing them tonight and she planned to drop the announcement about the new family member. Not knowing how Sloane would take being put on the spot she had chosen to make this announcement without the other siren present. She and Troy would have to train her to get used to being on camera.

“Your head in the clouds Ty?” Troy teased as he took his place on the other side of the crate. “You ready for the show?”

“Aren’t I always Troy?” She returned and flicked him in the forehead as he leaned in her direction. They both snapped to attention once the crew gave the all quiet on set call. She straightened her cloak and adjusted her hair watching as Troy did the same as the countdown ticked off, showtime.

Troy took the majority of the night’s stream, he was way more competent when it came to explaining what exactly was so cool about different models of guns. He had tried just handing her a script he wrote once but once it got heavy into the tech jargon it had all gone over her head. It was definitely not her finest moment and it had definitely led to a squabble between the siblings.  

“So Ty, you wanna tell everyone about what else we found on Eden Four?” Troy asked as he set down the last of the guns on the table in front of him. She smirked as she watched the camera turn to focus on her. She pushed off the crate standing center stage now.

“That’s right brothers and sisters, not only did Troy and I get Eden-4’s vault, but! We also found a stray who offered herself to yours truly and how could I say no to a face like this.” Tyreen cooed as if she were talking about a small animal as a holo-Sloane popped up from her echo-device.  “As you can see, she’s a siren, she’s our siren. I have big plans for her so needless to say brothers and sisters, you should treat her with respect.”

Tyreen smiled again, her thinly veiled warning coming across loud and clear, a new member of the inner circle had been claimed publicly. She then wrapped the stream in her usual bubbly fashion,  persona not dropping until she and Troy were back in their hidden staircase headed back to their rooms.

“You take her tonight, remember to be gentle. We want her to feel safe here, and if we want to test our theory we need her to trust that we won’t hurt her.” Tyreen said, offering the leash to Troy.

“I won’t need that, trust me.” He said, giving his twin a smirk.  “I’m good with the ladies.”

Tyreen snorted and flicked his shoulder “Yeah, yeah, just don’t get over excited this time, there’ll be plenty of time for that later.”

—- A few hours spent on the media room couch talking with Iris and watching the twins stream was enough to make Sloane feel as if she truly did belong here, any lingering doubts about her life with the Children of the Vault fell to the wayside. It felt good to be around people who seemed genuinely interested in getting to know her as a person, not a siren.

When Tyreen stepped up to make her announcement Sloane blinked in surprise and looked over at Iris. “Should I be worried about that?”

Iris seemed to think for a minute before shaking her head. “What no, Tyreen does that for everyone she takes in.”

Sloane wasn’t totally convinced but she knew Iris had no reason to lie to her and she thought that whatever Tyreen’s ‘big plans’ for her were, she was sure to find out soon enough. She knew that the Calypsos expected something from her in exchange for being taken in by them.

Not long after there  was a warning knock on the door before it swung open, Troy stepped through the doorway and rested against it. “Looks like you girls had a good time, I had no doubts that Sloane was in good hands when Tyreen said she’d given her to you Iris.”

“You’re too kind Father Troy, I just wanted our new family member to feel at home the way you and Queen Tyreen did for me.” Iris said.

Troy then gestured to Sloane. “Come, it’s my turn with you tonight.”  She approached him and he rested his prosthetic hand on her shoulder, the metal appendage’s  grasp was  just forceful enough that she wouldn’t be able to wriggle out of his grasp even if she wanted to.

He led her down the hall past Tyreen’s door and into his room. Where Tyreen’s room had been neat and organized Troy’s was a mess; bits and pieces of various machinery were scattered around the room centralized around a work table in one corner of the room. Sitting out on the kitchenette counter was an intricately detailed skull shaped bong that caught Sloane’s attention, it would seem that Troy’s private life was harder to get a beat on than Tyreen’s as outside the tinkering she wouldn’t have expected any of this.

“Sit on the couch and stay put until I come back.” He said with authority, disappearing into the bedroom. She did as she was told, looking at the books stacked on the coffee table, histories of various planet systems and books with titles in languages she didn’t recognize.

“Good girl, you follow orders. I mean I figured when Ty didn’t have any complaints you must be competent but I wanted to see for myself. Then again you did offer yourself to us so you must have known what you were getting into.” Troy had silently slipped back into the main room having traded his open faced vest for an oversized tee shirt, his prosthetic arm noticeably absent as the shirt sleeve was tied instead.  

“Is there anything else I can do for you tonight Father Troy?”  She asked feeling a bit awkward seeing him so casual.

“Ah-ah, what did I tell you? It's Troy in private doll, but I’ll let it slip. This is our first time alone together isn’t it?” He smirked  his hand catching her chin and pointing it up towards his face. She caught sight of his fangs somehow they seemed more threatening in this context than they had when he’d been willing to kill her. “Anyway, as for what you can do for me; go ahead and get comfy in the bed. No funny business I promise.”

He tilted his head towards the doorway he had walked out of. Sloane hesitated slightly as she got up, she had never shared a bed with a man in any context before now and while she trusted Troy to be true to his word she couldn’t help but feel strange about it.

His bedroom was much like Tyreen’s, a bed large enough that three people could comfortably fit in it without hassle, yet Troy’s  bed was a nest of blankets and pillows piled up like a dragon's hoard. Sloane found a spot to get comfy before Troy reentered the room.

“Don’t you just look precious. Well, sleep tight, still a lot to be done in the morning.” He said curling up in what was very obviously his spot as shaped by the pillows.

It would take some getting used to for sure, but this was still better than the life she left behind.

#People Like Us #Sloane #Tyreen Calypso #Troy Calypso #borderlands 3 #My Writing #My Hcs #Iris belongs to my friend but I have permission to use her in this story