#“twin” marston

[read1ntomymelanchol1a]

indulgent fanart of my own fic fallen tree

Xanthus hiding + Initial Sketch

[soscarlett1twas]

Midnight Church Bells

↳ Andrew and his brother sneak out. ↳ 2k words / also available on ao3! ↳ This fic is literally a year old lmao?? I was sorting through docs and found this finished draft, so I polished it a bit and here we are. Please forgive past me if the prose is... how we say 'shit'.

The holidays always snuck up on Andrew the same - sudden and unwelcome, but inevitable. This year, he’d been too invested in his studies, and, surprisingly, his own love life to notice much of withering leaves or decorations, but when he turned on the radio and heard those familiar jingles, he groaned in recognition. 

Really, it was none of those things (despite how much he did tire of those songs) that bittered Christmas for him. It was the fact that once the break started, his family would come calling. And despite all protests, his parents would never let him stay at college during the advent. 

“It’s time for the Lord.” His mother’s voice lifted through the phone he propped up on his dashboard. “And family,” she added after a moment. He resisted the urge to slam his head against the steering wheel, instead opting for biting his tongue. The one time his parents didn’t want him studying. 

Her saying that added to the sting of the season. And family. It seemed that this was the only time of year where that was on her mind. 

Which all led him to the same spot he was every December 24th: Sitting on his childhood bed, with whatever book he was currently reading in his hands, and classical music playing from his phone. 

Reclining into his pillow, Andrew lifted his glasses off and put them on the bedside table, a thumb folding the wings as the other worked as a bookmark. 

Yet he didn’t close his eyes. For one of those brief moments in life, he wasn’t thinking, or sleeping, or doing really anything at all. He was just there, in a limbo between sleep and consciousness, hoping that if he purposely derived himself the next day wouldn’t come as quickly.

And he stayed like that for 5 minutes. Or maybe it was 10, or maybe no time passed at all. But eventually he gave in to rest. No matter what, the morning would come and he’d rather not fall asleep during the already tedious sermons in church. So he set an alarm, put his book on the nightstand, and laid down.

He closed his eyes, and it was like he could hear the ringing already. 

Maybe he did.

A soft patter-ing rang just outside his door, the familiar sound of footsteps on carpet blotting the silence. And just as he was about to roll over, Andrew heard his door creak open, and the silhouette of a man leaned into the room. 

“Want to go on a walk?” He whispered, twinged with a sense of boredom. 

Andrew didn’t even need to turn to know who was asking. “Give me a moment,” he sighed, and motioned to push himself off the bed. 

—

“How did you know I was awake?” Andrew asked, still pulling his overcoat over his arms. 

“Your light was on, I saw it through your door.” His brother responded, turning off their driveway onto the sidewalk. He was slightly ahead of Andrew, but slowed a bit so that they were walking together. 

A cloud of mist formed from his breath as he stuffed his hands into his pockets, pulling the coat closer to himself to save some of his last remaining body heat. A near-midnight flit wasn’t what he had planned, but he’d prefer it than trying to sleep. Besides, this may be the only quality time he could spend with his twin during the break. God knows the time they’ve spent at college has already distanced them enough. 

“So,” he huffed, searching for a topic of conversation. “How have you been?” 

“Fine. Uni’s been beating my ass though - we spent practically the entire week leading up to the holidays in the lab, just sweating over our assignments. Jesus, I’m not even a Biochem major but Chemistry is just not letting up.”

It had been years since he was in a lab, but with the track he was on, he got the stress with ‘crunch time’. “I understand. I’ve recently had to rush a project for my Literary Theory course.” 

“What do you even do in that class?” He questioned, half serious, half mocking. 

“Analyze texts, find out how the culture of the author influenced their works.” He could go on: Literary Theory was one of his favorite classes, no matter how rigorous the course was, but he knew his brother wouldn’t care to hear the details. 

Winding down their street, the two carried on talking about academia with a partial interest, not fully understanding either’s field of study but trying to be supportive anyways. Soughing wind bent branches to a static beat as they approached the neighborhood's egress. By and by they were talking about the more social aspects of their schooling: Andrew’s literature club, the parties either rarely attended, his brother’s friends.

“How has your roommate been?” Andrew asked, kicking a rock under his shoe and watching it roll along the concrete. 

“Good.” He sighed out a laugh. “He’s great, actually.”

Andrew glanced over to his brother, and if the slight warmth in his voice wasn’t enough, the red on his cheeks told him everything he needed to know. He chuckled too, and gave a soft nudge on his shoulder, making them both smile. 

In a weird way, they never needed to tell eachother about any of this stuff. Equal parts the awkwardness that surrounded telling your sibling, your twin of all people, who you were interested in and an unspoken alliance against their parents had kept them from ever openly speaking it. But Andrew knew his brother was into guys ever since they were teens, he just didn’t know if his brother had caught on to his own preferences yet.

The stone made a sharp sound as it drifted over to his brother, who promptly kicked it back to Andrew with the inside of his shoe. 

“Helios, right?” 

His brother hummed in response. 

His mind trailed to the man at his college, the one who he had desperately wanted to introduce to him, and found himself grinning at the mere thought. God, he hoped Isaac would like his brother. 

He opened his mouth, then shut it quickly. What would he even say? He trusted his brother, but to come out was something entirely different, and with Christmas just around the corner? No, he’d wait. Right after, though, he’d tell him. Andrew silently swore it to himself. 

“Honestly, I prefer the dorms to the house.” 

That snapped Andrew out of his thinking. “Really?” 

“Yeah.” He stopped abruptly, and threw his arms out in exasperation. “Isn’t it suffocating to you too?” 

Everytime he was in his room, Andrew could only remember the sleepless nights he spent hunched over and studying. The dining table was a barrage of moments he spent silent as his parents and brother fought. The living room was a danger zone, as he never wanted to catch his parents when they were disappointed in his brother, or worse, him. The whole house could burn down and the only memories that would go with it were the most futile. Worse was, even without flames, Andrew felt like he wadded through smoke every time he was in those walls.

He silently nodded his head. His brother just stared at him, as if he wanted voice confirmation. But how can one speak up against the pyre when its fumes had already scorched his vocal cords? 

After a moment, his brother kept walking, and Andrew followed. “I contemplated not coming back this winter.” He muttered.

“As did I.” Andrew responded, suddenly getting his voice back. 

“What could you possibly be avoiding?” 

A million and one answers filled his head, but none escaped him - no matter what he said, not a single one would measure up to his brother's reasons. So why even bother trying to compare? 

His twin huffed as he turned away, suddenly gaining some distance on Andrew, and he let him keep it. 

For a while, the only sound they made was their shoes against concrete sidewalks and the crunch as they occasionally had to step into snow. Andrew brought his hands up to his face, cupping them to breathe and warm himself up. Normally he kept gloves in his pockets, just in case. But, of course, he just had to forget them tonight. His fingers combed through his hair, forcing him to look straight ahead at his brother's back. Again, he bit his tongue. But wasn’t that what had gotten him into this situation, unintentionally pushing his brother away by not talking? He didn’t understand it, but only continuing the cycle wasn’t going to help anything. 

So he opened his mouth, just in time to slam right into his brother. 

He stumbled, but his brother didn’t flinch. Or even look at Andrew. His eyes remained trained to the tree line, frozen in place. 

Regaining his footing, Andrew tried again. “Dar-“

“Stop.” He whispered.

“No, D-“  

“Shut up, Andrew, just listen.” 

So he did. 

For a few seconds, he didn’t hear anything. His eyes fell where his brother’s were focused, though without his glasses, the details were fuzzy. 

Then, a distant chime hit his ear. 

More followed. 

A symphony of church bells rang, each peal like a glimmer in the air. 

Andrew knew they rang the bells at midnight every Christmas Eve, though he couldn’t remember the last time he had heard them. During mass, he could imagine it would be unbearable. But from here? The sound was quite pleasant. 

As the bells continued, the twins stood there, listening to it all. Andrew was the first to tear his eyes away from the church he couldn’t see, glancing over at his brother through the corner of his eye. It was the first good look he had gotten at him in a long time. 

Andrew hadn’t realized how short a decade was. Though in context of anything else, the last ten years of his life had dawdled. But with his brother? It was like the blink of an eye. One moment they were running and laughing, a mirror image of one another - even the Christmas’ were tolerable. Fun, even. The next, blooming into adulthood - mimics of who they used to be.

In fact, the longer he looked at him, Andrew realized just how much his brother had changed. His hair had definitely grown, locked into a short ponytail that hung low with swooping bangs, and he made the full switch to contacts some time ago. He even got taller, and next to Andrew, he was a lofty inch or two higher. Though that could also be accredited to the boots he wore. (Ashamed to say, Andrew didn’t remember when or how he got them. They certainly weren’t a gift from their parents, but did his brother even have a job to afford them?) He was more muscular, which wasn’t saying much compared to Andrew, but he was certainly leaner. The man never made a mention of continuing his secondary school athletics, but maybe he did as an extracurricular? Again, Andrew was straining to remember specifics. Though, he supposed any reason to play was now null, as originally it was a brilliant excuse to come home late without his parents accusing him of deviancy. 

But he wasn’t too alien to him. There was something still familiar to him, like flecks of gold shining through, no matter how small. After all, they began to sneak out when they were fourteen and are still doing it now. There must be something that still connected them. 

Right?

Just as he had that thought, he missed his brother's pass, and the pebble went flying into a curb. 

They walked in silence for a while longer, bells fading to the wind. Eventually they found themselves back on their driveway, and their silence became deafening as they lightened their footsteps. God knows what their parents would do if they found out they had been out so late.

They followed one another up the stairs, crossed the same hallway, and went to rooms adjoining. There was a time they shared one, but that was before they had moved. 

Andrew slipped open his door, the knob turning slowly as to mute itself. As he slipped in, he turned half-way to see his brother doing the same.

His brother looked up, catching his gaze. 

Andrew saw himself in the reflection of his eyes. They were bitter, burning with… not rage. But a violent form of disappointment. 

Andrew was the center of it. And he could smell the smoke wafting. 

[caughtinred]

luv u lots, cowboy!

[beeblelady]

Twin... Where Have You Bean

The fanart of Andrew is by: @//potchi_hannah

[insanostyle1231]

god jack marston is such an awful flirt, theres this thing called autistic rizz and he does NOT possess it

source: low honor jack talking to prostitutes

[sakuversetomodachilife]

they’re so silly in this game 😭

[the-neigh-sayer]

[kitxkatrp]

Tag Dump 47

[soleminisanction]

I've always really liked DC's in-house choice of referring to their various superhero groupings as "families," but it has gotten a little frustrating recently with people both in canon and in fandom seeming to forget that families aren't just a parental-unit-and-kids formation. They're complicated, and a lot of the DC families are too messy to fit into that neat little nuclear family mode.

Which is to say... here's some scattered thoughts/summaries about how these families are actually structured in canon, because I think it's interesting:

Supers -- The smaller, more traditional Superfamily (Clark, Lois, Kara, Kon, etc.) is a pretty traditional Midwestern nuclear family, with Jimmy Olsen filling the role of close family friend/goofy neighbor sidekick (in the Silver Age, he was Kara's would-be suitor) and Steel feeling more like part of Clark's personal circle of friends. The recent line up, though, with Jon, the twins, Kong and Nat? Starts to feel more like some old dynasty or noble house, complete with fostered foundlings and the Steels acting almost like knights under a noble's banner, possibly reflective of what the House of El would have been on Krypton.

Arrows -- Might currently be the closet to a traditional nuclear family structure. You've got Ollie and Dinah, their younger sisters, Ollie's adopted and biological children, and Ollie's granddaughter through Roy, plus by some counts Roy's co-parent and her sister as "in-laws." Bonnie and Cissie King-Jones are adjacent to but not technically "part" of the family, though I believe it's implied at one point that Ollie might also be Cissie's bio-dad. Pretty straightforward, these guys are actually family and they act like it, for good and ill.

Shazam Family -- Also a literal, actual family. Not originally, the original golden age "Marvel Family" was considerably more complicated and only Billy and Mary were full siblings, but nowadays the whole point of the modern Shazam family is that they're foster siblings united by familial love and that's fantastic. Meanwhile your average Black Adam story is 75% angsty family drama, 25% Egyptian mythology references.

Flashes -- Technically closer to three nuclear families (the Allens, the Wests and the Garricks; four if you include the Quicks), two of whom are united by marriage and all of whom are bound by the Speedforce, which, given its semi-spiritual connections to things like Speedster afterlives, can act almost like a religious force that connects them to the additional members like Avery, Circuit Breaker and Max as Bart's foster-dad. They're a big, sprawling tree with more cousins than siblings, the kind of family that functionally has a reunion every Christmas and Thanksgiving.

Lanterns -- Now these guys are the exception that proves my point about the whole 'family' thing not being straightforward. The lanterns aren't a family, they're a corps. Soldiers. Space cops. Comrades-in-arms. They respect each other, have each other's backs, might even like or care about each other, but those last two are optional, and they don't have the same kind of assumed obligations towards each other that a family would have. They're friends and co-workers, not family, but that doesn't mean their relationships are less significant, they're just different.

Wonders -- Roughly half of them are either one of Hippolyta's daughters (Diana, Donna, Nubia pre-Crisis) or related to them through the gods (Cassie), and the other half (Artemis, Yara, modern-age Nubia) use sister as a term of endearment more in a utopian lesbian commune kind of way. I think they brought Steve Trevor back recently? He's basically the Ken in this equation and perfectly fine with that role. None of which should be surprising if you've seen Professor Marston and the Wonder Women.

Bats -- This is the one that people get really wrong when they try to force it into a traditional family structure. Don't let WFA fool you, the Bats are and have always been way more a snarled mess of tangled interpersonal relationships than they've ever been a cohesive family. Whether Dick is Bruce's son or his brother depends on what era you're talking about, and the former reading is much more recent than you think -- as in "started cropping up in the early 2000s" recent. Barbara is both Cassandra's sister and her mother. Duke and Steph both have living parents and neither of them want or would ever dream of treating Bruce like their dad; Tim was the same way until his dad died. None of the Robins ever lived in the mansion together, nor did Cass. Babs considered Jean-Paul Valley her brother and Huntress is so close to Tim she once hallucinated him calling her Big Sister. They're a beautiful mess of people finding places where their broken edges fit together into something that works for them and trying to reduce it down to a cozy nuclear family is just so goddamn reductive and lazy.

Blue Beetles -- Are only tangentially related to each other. Seriously, they never even get direct mentoring, each one just takes over when the previous one dies and works on completely different rules from the other two. They're complete strangers bound by a legacy and that's honestly pretty fun.

Zataras -- There's only three of them and they're literally a father, daughter and cousin.

Martians -- Not really a family because there's only the two of them, but an interesting case where the two survivors of what was functionally a war of mutually assured destruction came together in an attempt to find some peace in the aftermath of what they'd lost.

Titans -- The JLA and JSA aren't really in the "family" category, but the Titans lean into it hard, mostly because they're a textbook found family. They don't mirror a nuclear family structure, they're simply a group of people who came together to form a mutual support network. They're the idealized college friends you grew into your own with, some of them childhood companions and others you only met once you leave home for the first time, but all of them friends that you manage to maintain contact with for life, with everyone coming back together even as you scatter and do your own things.

Young Justice -- Meanwhile, this team is the chaotic group of misfits you hung out with when you were a teenager, especially when you were just starting to be allowed to act without adult supervision. You drive each other crazy, none of you know you're all queer as fuck, and you'd fight a bear for any of them even if they asked you not to. They'd probably be insulted if you tried to call them a family. They come out here to get away from their families, thank you very much.

[belladonnadawn]

Sakuverse men phone headcanons!

Silly headcanons about men and their phones! ft. Kayson Mayer, Andrew Marston, Isaac Rhoades, Xanthus Claiborne, Elias, and Dontis

Kayson Mayer

Will have those clear case where he puts a picture of listener or his family on the back of his phone.

Merged his calendar with listener's so he'd be able to plan dates and breaks with them.

Has an album dedicated for his family and listener, I also believe that he curated a playlist for them.

Plays those volleyball mobile games.

Kayson is the type of guy that will see two cats or any silly picture and send it to listener with a caption 'us'.

Probably did a tiktok.

Andrew Marston

I'd say that he'll have those fuckass flip cases that grandparents have but that'll be harsh 😭

He'd have those quotes from classic literature as his lockscreen and of course he'll have his darling as his wallpaper.

Deleted his social media after what happened, but I'd like to think that he had Facebook where he used to connect with his family (even uses it to search for his twin).

Has candy crush, believe me he does.

His note app are filled with poems and ongoing literary works, some of them are dedicated to his darling.

Isaac Rhoades

Plain black case.

Black lockscreen and wallpaper before the listener came into his life.

He probably has a stolen picture of pickle as his wallpaper or lockscreen. And he sometimes stare at it when he's having a bad or hard day.

Not gonna lie, I kinda believe that when he takes pictures they taken in such angle in a way that makes it look like something you'll see in a true crime documentary. He's literally a private investigator, so those angles are not a surprise.

Probably has no apps except the default ones just like Xanthus, but in a way that he's paranoid that a small info can immediately track him down because of his line of work.

Xanthus Claiborne

Okay, Xanthus probably does not care for phone cases. He probably believes that he's so fast and he'd be able to catch his phone before it falls on the floor or if it does and it breaks, he'd just buy one again.

Everything is default, he probably doesn't use it that much except for communication and information.

If he has a social media, he'd probably lurk on those forums where they discuss historical events or artifacts. He'd sometimes comment if he's so invested.

He probably tried to take a stolen picture of love, but he can't get his angles right. So he'd make a stupid excuse to take a picture of them and put it on his wallpaper.

He gets sentimental when it comes to pictures, since the people that he knew or loved never had the privilege of having one.

Dontis

His phone cases are personalized, fit for his aesthetic.

Instagram feed so good people thinks that he's a model (he should be).

He's the type of person that you'll see in comment section hyping up people or cheering them on.

His phone is so lively, like you'd discover apps that you never knew before and you'd be shocked on how good it was.

He'd send you pictures of himself, what he was doing, or his location just to update his hunter.

He loveeess video calls so he could see his hunter.

Elias

He sticks to dark colors so his phone case is probably plain black or has simple design.

His wallpapers are stars, galaxy, or the nightsky (probably taken by him)

Of course, he has games on his phone!

He follows NASA on his social media, best believe he's updated on space facts.

He has a playlist for when he's gaming or stargazing.

I'm sure that he has Discord, but he only uses it for gaming.

Unironically had an emo phase where he shares lyrics from mcr, ptv, fob, and 21 pilots.

Elias probably played roblox and convinced his listener to download one so they can play with him.

[tobybestupid]

Masterlist

★ Also, if requesting please add what gender you would like if it is for NSFW!! (Gender neutral is okay too!)

★ Btw! Please, do not spam like my posts!

★ from this point on, July 20 2024, I will STOP writing for bands. Extremely sorry but it makes me uncomfortable to be writing about real, living people. I will continue to do games however!

★last updated: September 15, 2024★

Before we get into this, info for requests and such!

★ I do nsfw, angst, fluff, ECT.

★ I do NOT allow/do racism, homophobia, rape, icky bodily fluids, anal, beastiality, etc.

★ I will do character x character, character x reader, character x character x reader!

★ hope this makes sense!!

+ if I missed anything I'm so sorry!

----------------★---------------

Bands I do

Guns n Roses

Mötley Crüe

KISS

Hanoi Rocks

Megadeth

(No longer writing bands)

Other

Call of Duty mw2-mw3

Red Dead Redemption 1-2

----------------------★-----------------------

Mötley Crüe

All of them together x reader

Mötley x reader hc's

🖤Nikki Sixx🖤

Sick mötley x reader

Mötley dealing with you being drunk

Taking care of him after tour

Fourth of July with mötley

You pampering mötley

Big ol' crybaby

Doing so good

⛓️Mick Mars⛓️

Sick mötley x reader

Mötley dealing with you being drunk

How to take care of him after tour

Fourth of July with mötley

Please, stay

Bubble bath- with cats?

Peachy Keen

You pampering mötley

Mick Mars x Reader injury (appendix, I think)

NSFW hc's

🌜Vince Neil🌛

Sick mötley x reader

Mötley dealing with you being drunk

Fourth of July with mötley

You pampering mötley

NSFW Alphabet

❤️‍🔥Tommy Lee❤️‍🔥

Sick mötley x reader

Mötley dealing with you being drunk

Fourth of July with mötley

You pampering mötley

You're still beautiful

🥀Terror Twins x Reader💣

Terror Twins x Reader hc's 1

Terror twins x Reader hc's 2

Terror Twins x reader hc's 3

Terror Twins x reader hc's 4

Terror Twins x reader hc's 5

Terror Twins x reader hc's 6

Sick!Terror Twins x reader hc's

My turn

So, so good

Cuddle..sex?

Calm down, ey?

(y'all are so hungry for Terror Twins omg...)

Hanoi Rocks

🌚Razzle🌝

Late night kisses

🕸️Sami Yaffa🕸️

NSFW Alphabet

Such a tease, huh?

KISS

💫Paul Stanley💫

Snow

Guns n Roses

🎩Slash🐍

Do you love me more?

They fell asleep with your kid

❤️Axl Rose💋

They fell asleep with your kid

Axl x Kurt Cobian sister!Reader hc's

NSFW Alphabet

Cold baby?

Bad day?

🎸Duff McKagan🎸

They fell asleep with your kid

🚬Izzy Stradlin🚬

Sick as a dog

Sweetheart

They fell asleep with your kid

🍿Steven Adler🍿

The, fell asleep with your kid

Paradise City

NSFW Alphabet

Megadeth

🍃Dave Mustaine🍃

Your not my baby

Tour rat

NSFW Alphabet

Dating Dave head cannons

Call of Duty (COD)

🦴Alex Keller🦴

Coming soon!!

🖤Simon "ghost" Riley🖤

Reader with sensory issues

💣König💣

Dating him head cannons

Roommate könig

🧼John "Soap" Mactavish🧼

Coming soon!!

🌜Farah Karim🌛

Coming soon!!

🥃John Price🥃

Coming soon!!

🦎Nikto🦎

Red Dead Redemption (2)

Coming soon!!

🦌Arthur Morgan🦌

If they were parents

🦬Charles Smith🦬

If they were parents

🃏Dutch Van Der Linde🃏

If they were parents

🐀Micah Bell🐀

If they were parents 2

🎸Javier Escuella🎸

If they were parents

🐎Kieran Duffy🐎

If they were parents 2

🐺John Marston🐺

Coming soon!!

🖤Jack Marston🖤 (1911)

If they were parents 2

🪶Eagle Flies🪶

Coming soon!!

🍷Molly 0'Shea🍷

If they were parents

🔪Sadie Adler🔪

If they were parents

🪻Abigail Roberts🪻

Coming soon!!

☘️Sean Macguire☘️

If they were parents 2

Character x Character

Coming soon!!

[atopvisenyashill]

and if House of the Dragon S1 were POV chapters? Would your opinion change?

OH like specifically HOTD verse? Hmmmm.

I'd still want Larys, even with him being like "Tyrion but slightly to the left" some of my favorite Tyrion chapters involve his relationship with Jaime and getting that dynamic but worse would certainly be beautifully written. But I'd also really want Harwin as well. We get all three Lannister kids (I say as if they aren't all like my age or older lmao) so I think it's fine to get Harwin and Larys, even interesting to see the differences in how they view their relationship with each other and their father. Absolutely we need dragon twins PoVs and Jacaerys PoV because they got paid jack shit in the show so far, especially the girls. I'd want a Laena PoV, a Rhaenys PoV, and a Helaena PoV here as well.

I think in the show, with the way it's vibe is, you could justify an Alicent and Rhaenyra PoV BUT only if there is absolutely NO Otto, Viserys, Daemon, or Corlys. Honestly the less men the better. Every man we get needs to either die before the main action - Laenor, Harwin, Harold Westerling - or just is NOT a grown man involved in the physical fighting - so still Jace, Larys, you could argue for Steffon largely because he's not inheriting anything, he's just in the Kingsguard, etc, but I'd be okay with dropping him in favor of one of Aegon's bastard Kingsguard like Mervyn Flowers or Marston Waters. I think Helaena and Alicent being our main looks into the minds of Aegon, Aemond, and Otto is really keeping on theme, and I think our main look at Daemon and Corlys being their wives and children also keeps on theme, even though Daemon is a second son who isn't inheriting anything.

I guess we should have Criston too but I'm listening on 3x speed like I do with Tyrion when I'm angry.

[soscarlett1twas]

Fallen Tree

↳ Lawrence and Nathaniel had a favorite childhood tree. Xanthus returns to the spot 400 years later. ↳ 3k words / also available on ao3! ↳ Inspired by Fallen Tree, a painting by Alexandre Calame

“Please, do be careful.” His voice lifted just above the rushing water, carrying its way to the little boy right above it. 

He giggled. “I am!” 

Lawrence gave a haphazard sigh, crouching down into the grass. His sight didn’t leave his brother, who had begged to go here. 

The clearing was a peculiar place - not far from Claiborne land but not owned by the family, nor anyone for that matter. All but abandoned, the plot had become a favorite of Nathaniel’s. He loved to run and let the weeds, some even taller than himself, graze his fingertips (which Lawrence found adorable). He had proclaimed his ‘discovery’ of this place as a step towards becoming a true adventurer.

And now he’s graduated from running between weeds. Now, it’s tree climbing. Lawrence found this significantly less cute.  

His brother’s tiny frame pushed from branch to branch, smiling all the way. Every time he grabbed a divot in the bark he pointed it out. Lawrence watched on in silent agony. He tensed every time Nathaniel’s frail hands seemed to loosen. He had half a mind to ban him from doing this altogether, but seeing him smile, holes from missing teeth and crooked, made Lawrence shove it all down. How could he take this away from him? 

There was one barrier he put onto the whole ordeal: He was only allowed to climb this beech tree, which stood in the middle of the clearing. Its branches were thick enough to hold his weight, wasn’t too big for any real danger, and its trunk was tall enough so Nathaniel couldn’t climb without Lawrence’s assistance. Granted, the thing was situated right next to a running stream, but Lawrence saw it as a blessing more than anything. Sometimes, when Nathaniel got winded from climbing, they drank its water because he didn’t want to wait to get home. 

Looking up at him, shadows danced across Lawrence’s frame from the shifting leaves. The winds, however calm, seemed to eddy around the clearing. Lawrence took a breath, the sugary smell of honeysuckles wafting into his nose, and felt his unease steady. The kid had never fallen. He was here to watch him. His brother was alright. 

He took a moment to look around him. It truly was a beautiful day. Blue skies peppered with clouds, flowers waxing towards the sun. Bird songs echoed from treetops, some even diving down to sit on bushes, collecting twigs and scrap for a nest. Tranquility bloomed in every crevice. He couldn’t help but smile. 

“Look! Look,” a breathy voice hailed from the beech tree. Lawrence did as it commanded. 

Nathaniel sat on a towering branch, feet dangling in the open air.

“Wow,” Lawrence half-shouted. “You’re quite high up.” 

“I am!” He threw his arms open wide. “I feel like the king!” 

For as adorable as it was, Lawrence felt a bubbling fear in his chest. “Be careful.”

“I know…” Nathaniel began to stand, one arm pushed into the bark to stabilize himself. Lawrence felt his fingernails dig into his palm.

A breeze pushed up at him, hair tickling his ears. “Maybe you should come down now… we can always come back another day.” 

“But I want to keep going!” His brother leaned slightly over the edge to look down at him. His arm was still on the tree, but the other swung at his side. 

“We’ll come back,” he repeated. The wind carried the scent of honeysuckles and streamwater back to him. 

“Come on… just a few branches higher!” 

“No. Come down.” 

“But-” 

“Nathaniel, I said come down!” 

A sudden gust of wind picked up, creating the static noise of rustling leaves. Lawrence watched as his brother opened his mouth to argue more, but lost his footing as the wood began to shake. The boy made a motion to grab the tree but it was too late: He had slipped off. 

Florals and fear mixed as Lawrence ran forward. 

Without thinking he dove into the riverbank, his brother plummeting towards it. 

He held his hands out, and by some miracle of God, he caught him. 

A deep sigh of relief hitched in his throat, almost sounding like a sob as he accidentally collapsed into the water. It rushed into his nose. He may as well have blacked out for a moment before the squirming boy brought him back to reality. 

His clothes were soaked, caked with a layer of grime the water carried. As he waded out, Lawrence was careful to not let a single drop of it touch Nathaniel. 

When they were both safely away from water, Lawrence set him down and promptly rolled into the grass, deep breaths permeating the space between words. “You aren’t climbing again.” 

“...huh? What?” Nathan’s look of adrenaline faded into shock. “You can’t do that.”

“Oh yes, I can.” 

“But…” Nathaniel started. Then he bit his tongue. 

“You could’ve gotten seriously hurt, you could’ve died!” 

“But I didn’t.” A pleading look danced on his face. 

Lawrence steeled. “The answer is no.” He got up and grabbed Nathan’s arm. 

The kid didn’t put up a fight, just allowing himself to be dragged along back to the house. But Lawrence could feel the hostility radiate off the boy. He understood the rage; Not towards his brother, but towards himself. He allowed the climbing, he enabled the fall. 

The water still on his face mixed with his sweat, and maybe even a tear. 

As they approached the beginning of the forest, the only known path back to their manor, Lawrence abruptly stopped.

He took a delicate, curling white flower from a bush and handed it to Nathan. The boy looked on in confusion, then delight. 

He took the end of it - two green leaves from the bush - and pried them off, revealing filament with a singular drop of sweetness. He licked it off. 

He grabbed a few more as they passed and handed one to Lawrence, a silent apology. 

He took it but left it in his pocket. He didn’t have the stomach to eat it. Not when the stench still rang in his nose. 

—

Xanthus stepped over a thick root, careful not to trip into the bramble. Underbrush and weeds had invaded the path, spattering the edges of the dirt with thorns that threatened to cut someone deep. He grumbled to himself something about wearing the wrong attire for a woodland outing. 

He had long gone off the main road. Over the years he’d been gone, these dirt pathways had become rare as most were paved over with concrete and fences, cars moving in place of carriages. Industrialization throttled every part of London the same. Even this deep into the countryside, the sounds of it never left his ears. They buzzed like gnats, unwanted pests that flew around him like he was rot long left out. 

Though, Xanthus supposed, he was rot. Undead rot in a casing of slacks and a sweater, but rot all the same. 

He suddenly became very aware of the fangs in his mouth. He adjusted his jaw. 

Xanthus kept walking, following a vague desire path that seemed ten years overgrown. It had not been set by him - but he knew it well anyway. Farther in he went, the forest swelled. The light dimmed as the trees became thicker, trunks growing greater in circumference than his height. As he passed particularly large ones, he wondered who was older: Him or it. 

In the distance, a rabbit landed. He heard its thump, saw the scurry of leaves around it, and could even feel the pumping blood in its veins. A quick object of focus before swiftly turning his attention to something else. He was used to this darting attention: The abundance of life blended together, less stimulating than the city yet still humming in his ear. He just tuned it out, focused on fleeting memories to trail him back to the clearing. 

It had been so long. Was there even hope in remembering the way? 

He kept going. 

From the ambiance of wildlife emerged the unique purr of human voices. They started small: Indistinguishable from the trotting of deer and whiz of bugs, but slowly rose to stand out among the vibrations. At first, Xanthus neglected this realization, too lost in his mind to pay attention. But they became sharp, pushing their way to the front of the symphony until they were at the forefront of his mind - and though unwittingly and agitated, Xanthus looked up. 

The voices echoed from just beyond the pathway if slightly to the left, beckoning him forward. Déjà vu struck him. They - were there two? The vocals were so similar it was hard to tell - spoke and giggled and yelled. Those were the sounds of children playing in the field. He paused. 

It was a sign to turn back. To never see this place again. One final push to save himself the heartache. But Xanthus followed the voices, one step at a time. Just one. Then another, and eventually another. Until he dragged himself the rest of the hike, and the voices boomed in his ears, and he wanted to leave and never return here or any parts of London or England because what was there even to stay for– 

“What if it breaks?”

The question struck the front of his mind, a thought so clear and strong that for a split second, he thought it was his own. But the voice wasn’t. 

Xanthus honed in on the clearing. This was it. Most of it was the same. Weeds and flower bushes, saplings and stones. But there was no stream anymore, seemingly turned into a pond and then a puddle: Unmoving and dirty. The surrounding forest was noticeably thinner as well, with shadows lighter and allowing full sun. 

Amidst it all, where a beech once grew, was a stump. And next to it was a felled log that cast above the still creek, gutted of branches. 

For a second, Xanthus forgot all else, entranced with memories of an otherwise forgotten time. 

“It won’t! Climb, come on,” buzzed a similar voice. Xanthus flinched, sharply turning his gaze from the stump to the log. On it sat a boy, dangling his feet above the still water. 

“You don’t know that…” Xanthus glanced down. This one stood in the grass, staring up at his companion. 

Xanthus felt himself lean forward, pushing out of the foliage to get closer. 

The boys continued bickering about whether or not the grounded one should mount the log. From their voices, Xanthus guessed they were 12, maybe 13 - certainly from around here, as the accents seemed local. 

The one previously in the grass hesitantly stepped onto a trunk, and Xanthus felt roil in his chest. He took a breath and felt the breeze scrap his teeth. They felt hollow. 

Xanthus watched as he leaped from the stump to the log, trying desperately not to lose balance. His arms shot out, and the giggle of his companion echoed: “You’re fine, you’re a meter off the ground. A fall isn’t going to kill you.”

“It’s still dangerous…” He muttered below his breath, quiet enough for the other to not hear. With every step the hesitancy was clear. Eventually, he shot out his arms in some vain attempt to balance and, however tentatively, he finished the climb and met the other. Almost. 

With one misplaced step, the boy slipped. His foot went straight through some rotten wood, shattering under his weight and taking his leg through the log. Xanthus rushed forward. 

He hadn’t realized he had moved until he was halfway through the clearing, jolted out of his thoughts through stinging sunlight. He stumbled to a stop. His friend had caught his arm, pulling them close, free arms clinging to the other. Their heartbeats echoed together. 

The once-still pool now rippled from the impact of moldered bark, the splash only registering after it happened. A distinctive hole was shot through the log. 

Xanthus pulled himself up from his half-lunge, placing a steadying hand on his chest. Memories boiled up to the front of his mind, distracting him from the painful taper of sunlight on skin, however much more cruel they may be. Something wet grazed his waterline. The warm air felt boiling as he took in two long breaths. 

When he looked up, the boys were less tangled, only their hands still gripping the other's arm. Silently, they watched the pool, breaths and heartbeats calming in tune with the water. The nearly-fallen one slowly turned his head to his mate, a look of incredulous horror painting him. 

The other shrugged, almost slinking away from the gaze: “Well, I got up here just fine…” Skeptical humor dripped from his voice as if he were testing the waters to see if the situation was considered funny or not. It was a tone Xanthus remembered surprisingly well. 

“This is why I didn’t want to do this.” Xanthus squinted, finally registering just what he was looking at. 

“I was just trying to have some fun, I’m sorry; I wouldn’t have gone up here if I knew it was dangerous.” That’s why this was so familiar. 

“Yes, you would’ve!” They were brothers. 

Of course. Wasn’t it obvious? Only siblings could squabble like this while still hooked to one another as if their lives depended on it. That was the very nature of them. Sardonically, Xanthus wondered what it was about this valley that drew in brothers.

Moreover, they were identical. How Xanthus hadn’t noticed before, he didn’t know - but next to each other, he saw the blatant similarity. Same stature, same shape. Hickory brown swept around their heads in waves, slightly unruly in its twists. Not even clothing was an indicator of who was who. They wore the same schoolboy uniform. 

That’s why the voices were so similar.  A huff of laughter left him. 

It took a moment to realize that fast-paced noise was no longer voices, but pumping blood: Did something else happen? Xanthus refocused on the boys, only to be met with their eyes doing the same to him. 

For a long moment, nothing happened. Then the one hardened his grip on the other. 

Xanthus raised his hands. “I don’t mean any harm.” It sounded more sarcastic than he’d like. “I heard the snapping and came running.” Not technically a lie. 

They were not convinced. 

“Then why were you laughing…” One of them muttered. He pretended not to hear. 

“Are you two alright?” He made a show of scaling the fallen log, casting purposeful scorn onto the hole through it. “Do you need help down from there?” 

“We’re fine,” and “Please,” echoed from uniform voices at the same time. They traded a quick look of confusion with each other. 

“What are you doing?” Once again they said it at the same time. 

“We need help down.” 

“No, we don’t. This guy’s a creep.” Xanthus resisted the urge to roll his eyes. 

“Would you stop being so stubborn? I’m not doing that again. Sir? Yes, could you help me please?”  

A smile of gritted teeth bled onto Xanthus’ face. He truly didn’t care about them. He just wanted them gone, and if hoisting them off the timber would do it, well, he was waiting with open arms. Literally. 

He walked up as close as he could to the log, stepping to the side that they climbed up from, reaching out his hand for the boy to take. The cooperative one started shimmying along the wooden minefield, letting go of his brother's hand in the process. 

When they were close enough to touch, Xanthus grabbed his arm and glided him off the beam, catching him and carefully setting him to the ground. 

“Thank you,” he said through a wavering smile. 

Just behind Xanthus, a thud hit the ground in tandem with a bit of murky water splashing up and onto his shoes. He didn’t even need to turn: The boy stomped around him and stood next to the other, arms crossed.  

A ghostly twitch flickered in Xanthus’ under eyelid. “Where are your parents?” 

“Why do you care?”  

Xanthus took a moment to convince himself not to compel the brat into shutting up and leaving. 

“We’ll be going now, so sorry to disturb you.” 

“What? We were already here, we don’t need to leave.”

“I think it’s best if we do.” He grabbed his arm and pulled him away. 

“I’m not leaving, some guy showed up and took it upon himself to ‘help’ us. This isn’t weird to you? Andrew, please admit this is weird.” Xanthus didn’t even need his enhanced hearing for this, they were just talking right in front of him. 

“You’re berating me for him helping me down? I could’ve – you could’ve – gotten seriously hurt!” Andrew snapped at his brother. His voice was shockingly distraught. 

Those words rang in Xanthus’ ears, ripples of the past resurfacing. He had said that. A long time ago. 

He looked on at the boy and saw a wraith of Nathaniel inlaid in the shocked eyes, the agape mouth. One aching part of him hoped he would argue back, just as Nathaniel hadn’t. 

But he wouldn’t either. 

The boy just looked down at the grass, cheeks getting redder as he thought about what to do.

When he did reopen his mouth, Xanthus raised a hand. 

“It’s alright. Everyone’s fine, just… you two run along.” 

They nodded politely. “Thank you again, sir.” They turned to leave. 

When far enough away, their attempts at whispers flocked to Xanthus’ ears. “I told you none of this was a good idea!”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know–”

“That it was rotten and I’d slip? Well, I didn’t either and I still had the forethought to not climb it.”

Xanthus stared unblinking at the boles, frayed and damaged, withering into the dirt. Trees felled to logs. Wood into mulch. Bones in the ground.

He reached into his pocket and thumbed a honeysuckle he plucked on the way here.  

Don’t be cruel, Andrew, Lawrence thought. He didn’t know. It’s alright. He didn’t know. 

[gwenllian-in-the-abbey]

choose violence ask: 12 & 22 for F&B/HOTD

12. unpopular character you actually like: I feel like with F&B/HotD this is so team based that the definition of "unpopular" is going to vary widely. I like Aegon II, even though he's widely hated in the broader fandom, but that feels like a bit of a cop-out since he does have a lot of fans on TG, even if he's not as popular as Aemond. I really like the Lannister twins, Tyland and Jason, are they unpopular? Tyland gets villainized a lot for pulling that shit with the treasury but honestly, it was a smart move and respect to him for not cracking under torture. And regardless of what happens later with the Lyseni Spring, Marston Waters will always be a real one for reminding Aegon II twice that he shouldn't kill Baela, and luckily for everyone Aegon II listened.

22. favorite part of canon that everyone else ignores: Well, kind of related to the above, even though I generally do not like the end of Aegon II's reign/House of the Wolf/Regency of Aegon III, it's also the part of the book that made me appreciate Aegon II, because it's here where he shoes mercy when he really has no reason to, and when doing so actually kind of undermines him in some ways. At the tail end of the Dance people tend to focus on how Aegon had Essie tortured into admitting Gaemon wasn't his, and on the threats made to harm Aegon III, but it's frustrating how the context is ignored or kind of brushed over. Gaemon was a pretender to the throne and under any other circumstance that kid would be toast-- forced to take the Black at the very best. Forcing Essie to admit that he was a Lyseni bastard was a way to save him-- he's no longer a threat to the throne if his father is just a random Lyseni. Aegon then takes him into the royal household, where he later becomes Aegon III's only friend. Aegon also grants the request of another pretender to the throne, Trystane, and knights him before executing him, giving him the name Ser Trystane Fyre. But what's more, Aegon II keeps Aegon III and Baela alive for six months against the advice of two of the only three people left in King's Landing who he really trusted, one of whom was his mother. At this point Aegon II is in pain, he's not allowing himself milk of the poppy so he's drinking more, he's grieving, and yet he just refuses to kill this kid, even though realistically, killing Aegon III would have left Aegon II's opponents with only Daemon's daughters to rally around. From the moment he returns to King's Landing, Alicent is saying kill Aegon III. Tyland is saying kill Aegon III. But it is only in the final moments of his reign, with the Tullys and the Starks practically at the door, does Aegon reluctantly agree to take Aegon III's ear and send it to the Tullys, but he is poisoned before that order can be carried out. When the fandom talks about this, it's often framed as if Aegon started threatening to mutilate Aegon III right away, but it's six months, and this whole time Corlys is trying to negotiate some kind of treaty but Aegon also won't compromise. It's really poignant to me that the Dance starts with the deaths of children, but for whatever reason, Aegon II just refuses to end it that way.

[beeblelady]

The World May Never Know and will remain a mystery.

[zsakuva]

Hi Saku :D ! My friend and eye recently listened to Andrew's series again, and started theorising. So, our question is:

"Will we, perchance, someday get to learn more about twin Marston?"

Thank you for producing such wonderful stories and dragging a rookie author like myself out of the terrible pit of writer's block ! Take care of yourself, Crumpet King 👑

It is a possibility, but it's also not. Everyone has been wanting to know more about the elusive twin, buuuuut I don't know if and when I'll be dropping more lore about him. I guess we'll see!

Glad to help!