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isoscele · 3 years

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Lumberjanes Week Day 6 - Ghost Stories/Land of Lost Things

In Xian’s bullet journal, in purple gel pen, the four of them wrote their last will and testament. It was an incontrovertible fact, said Presley, that they were going to die here. One, it had snowed every single one of the four days they had been here, and showed no signs of stopping. Two, despite their best efforts to ration their fruit leathers and peanut-butter-banana sandwiches, they had run out of food. Three, Ana’s ankle was sprained and they were probably not going to be able to get back up on the cliff they had fallen from. Four, despite what fantasy books said, kids on hiking trips did not actually survive tripping into a desolate, war-torn alternate dimensions, no matter how much moxie and general perseverance they showed.

It was hard to argue with that. So they divvied up their belongings among parents and siblings and pets, taking turns with the pen in a kind of grim ritual.

Once they finished, they surveyed their work.

“Don’t give your rollerblades to Peter,” Ana told Xian. “He’s going to break his collarbone immediately.”

“If I have to become a ghost, I want to spend my afterlife watching Peter eat it in the Walmart parking lot,” Xian said firmly.

The sky here was a kind of burnt-rubber color. The snow kept coming down, so there must have been clouds up there somewhere, but it was difficult to distinguish them from the blank slate of horizon.

There were no plants, no animals, nothing but a long line of snow-covered earth. If you dug down to the surface, as Siobhan had, there was only scorched dirt. There was a little rubble, but not much. As far as otherworldly apocalyptic wastelands went, it was disappointingly barren. There were no helpful clues, or conveniently-placed newspapers with pictures of mushroom clouds. Even the breaks in the landscape looked harsh, a continual jag of cliffs and valleys and something that smelled like it might have been a swamp, a long time ago.

When they’d first set up camp, Siobhan had knelt down to wrap Ana’s ankle and Presley had started clearing space to make a campfire, and so Xian had gone around looking for something to help start it, trudging through the knee-deep snow with her windbreaker tied around her legs to keep herself from getting frostbite.

Mostly, she had been walking towards a massive rupture in the snow that looked like it might have been a felled tree. Probably, it would be too damp to burn, but Presley had mad survivalist skills wrapped up in her little band-geek brain, so maybe she would be able to scrape the bark off or something. Or maybe there would be something they could eat. Even then, back in the halcyon days when they still had two out of four fruit leathers left, that was a pressing concern.

As Xian approached it, though, it started to look less and less like a tree. It was curved in a weird way, and it didn’t have any branches. It took a long time for her to reach it, so by the time she reached out one hand to wipe away the snow, there was a part of her that already knew what she’d find.

It was a rib. More specifically, it was the rib of something that had ribs the size of a school bus. It was picked completely clean of meat, as pristine as a museum exhibition.

Xian had to take a step back and stare at it. It filled her whole vision, and she couldn’t get over how clean it was. Her first thought was scavengers! Her second thought was HUGE scavengers! Her third thought was no, that’s dumb. It’s just old.

Siobhan’s theory had been nuclear war. Presley agreed with her–maybe not with the method, but she thought they were in an alternate dimension that had destroyed itself somehow. Ana had suggested time travel, like they’d tripped into Earth’s first ice age.

But something bad had happened here. With that understanding came a powerful, terrible relief. Of course they were standing on a graveyard too vast and ancient for them to ever understand. Of course this was a place of tragedy. It still was, the white of the ground and the orange of the sky and the way that Presley had said we should find some kindling, as if they were ever going to find any kindling.

Xian had looked at the bone for a moment longer. She thought about how, in horror movies, the characters always tried to find some justification for what was happening to them, had some big why-me breakdown. From an audience’s perspective, though, it was easy to tell who was earmarked for catastrophe. From the moment they stepped onto the screen, they were tasked with telling a story. They were suffering because they were only ones who could tell it. It wasn’t their fault.

Xian didn’t know what that meant about them. They were teenage girls, which could make some sense within certain narratives, but they were teenage girls who were probably not going to get out of here. Girls who were plucky and inquisitive and charming and still would not be saved.

Then again, sometimes the answer to why-me was just you were there. Sometimes, it was as simple as an extinction event, coming to wipe you and everything you knew clean.

Xian turned around and started the long walk back to camp.

The hike had been Siobhan’s idea. School had just ended and it was Presley’s last summer before she moved away, so everything was terrifying and big and moved in slow-motion. It felt like every minute the four of them weren’t doing something amazing together was a minute wasted. Siobhan imagined growing up like a skin you shed in reverse. The more you crammed into those early layers, the harder it was to lose them.

She’d packed the bag, which was another mark on her ledger. If she had brought a first-aid kit, if she had brought more food, if she had brought a second water bottle, things might be different. Never mind that it was only supposed to be a day trip, and her mom would’ve lost her mind if Siobhan had packed for an overnighter.

The third thing that she could never ever be absolved of was that she was the one who saw the fox.

It had streaked through the trees, a blur of formless red, but for a second it had looked at her and–and Siobhan wasn’t exaggerating, time stopped. Its eyes were golden and a million years old, and somehow she had known exactly what it was saying to her.

They’re leaving you they’re leaving you every second they are getting farther away from you and you can’t do anything to stop it and you’re the only one who wants to anyway, you’re the only one selfish enough to ask for forever.

And then time had unstuck and it had leapt back through the trees, and Siobhan had pushed past Ana and almost tripped over Xian and she hadn’t even realized that she had started running, it was more like she knelt into the air and kept going.

She hadn’t realized the others would follow her, but of course they had.

So Siobhan couldn’t sleep. She was cold, and she was hungry, and she was ashamed that during their will-writing she’d made up people to give her things to because she wanted her friends to think that she had friends other than them, that she too had cool cousins in New York and family members she could trust with the contents of her bedroom.

And she was ashamed about everything else, too, every dumb decision she had made in possibly her whole life, and then Presley said “Siobhan?” and she realized she was kind of crying into the snow.

“I’m okay,” Siobhan said, “I’m okay, I’m fine.”

Ana reached out and touched Siobhan’s elbow. Her fingers were cold, but steady, and it did make Siobhan feel better.

“I think I’m gonna go look for food,” Siobhan said. She hadn’t realized she was going to say it until she did, but it felt right. She couldn’t stay here. She couldn’t just lie down and try to sleep through another night that looked exactly identical to the day.

“Okay,” Xian said. She pushed herself onto her elbows and tried to brush some of the snow off her shirt. “We’ll come with you.”

This was how they got into all kinds of world-ending trouble, but Siobhan supposed there were worse things.

She didn’t think she could get any words out if she tried, so instead she reached out and helped Xian get the snow off her shoulders.

Ana’s ankle didn’t hurt much anymore, but Presley still stoically bore the task of giving her a piggyback ride. Ana liked this arrangement because Presley would kneel down and wait for Ana to loop her legs around her waist and then she would say, with all the seriousness of a soldier about to pull the knife from his dying comrade’s stomach, I’m going to do it, get ready, get ready, and then she would stand up.

They didn’t have a direction, and none of them were entirely sure which way they had come from, so they were just kind of walking. Most likely, they had already gotten turned around three or four times, but Ana was hoping it would eventually cancel itself out.

But then again, it probably didn’t matter whether they got anywhere new. Already, the snow had probably completely concealed their old campsite. Everywhere they stepped was a new world, fresh and footprintless. Packed with promise.

Presley and Xian were talking, but Ana was a little too tired to follow the conversation. Instead, she tried to catch Siobhan’s eye and silently communicate something deep and necessary to her. She didn’t know what that deep and necessary thing was, but she trusted Siobhan to figure it out.

They walked for a long time without finding any kind of break in the landscape. Ana let herself feel reassured by the steady rhythm of Presley’s footsteps below her, the slow thread of Xian’s voice. It almost felt like home, pacing circles around Siobhan’s trampoline or getting marched to the principal’s office for “disturbing the classroom environment.”

So of course, she was the last one to see the cave.

It looked a little like a wasps’ nest, fat and bulbous and buzzing from the inside out with a pale yellow light. Shadows stretched across the entrance, flickering in stop-motion. The cave, whatever else it meant for them, was inhabited.

Ana looked down at Xian, who tended to be the most genre-savvy of them all. But Xian wasn’t looking at the cave; she was staring into the sky with a look of abject terror on her face.

“Presley,” Ana said. “I think we should–”

Presley locked her arms around Ana’s ankles and took off running towards the cave.

Ana had to duck so they could get inside, pressing the side of her face against Presley’s crown of braids. Then, the light was everywhere, and she had to blink hard to disperse the pink clouds that spotted her vision.

“Oh my God,” Siobhan said from somewhere behind her.

Xian shuffled closer. “What is that?”

In the center of the cave, a candle had burned almost to a stub, giving off the unmistakable smell of pine. Behind it, half-submerged in the pool of light, lay some kind of abomination.

It was a wolf and yet it wasn’t, couldn’t be. It had thick white fur and a distinctly lupine body, but it had human hands, bent and weathered. An old woman’s hands.

Oh Grandmother, Ana thought, inanely. What big teeth you have.

And if it was dead, which it could very well be, it had not been dead for long.

As slow as the shifting of a tectonic plate, it lifted its head and opened one blazing eye. Ana understood with a jolt that it had known they were there the whole time, that it had been listening.

It surveyed them, looking very old and very tired. It locked eyes with Ana. Then it spoke, in a voice so gravelly and ancient that Ana had no problem believing that it had been here for as long as there had been a here to be.

“Kids come with two heads these days?”

“Yes,” Ana said automatically, because even in her mindless terror she had to indulge her favorite hobby, which was tricking old people into believing things about The Youth. “But only the ones who are on social media too much.”

Presley frowned so hard that Ana could feel it from her shoulders, like an earthquake. “That’s not true,” she said. “We’re two separate kids. Stacked on top of each other.”

Wolf Lady huffed and closed her eyes again, apparently done with the conversation.

“Hey!” Siobhan said. “Hey, ma’am, please–can you help us?”

“We fell down a portal,” Presley supplied. “We’ve been here four days, and we’re going to die here.”

Wolf Lady smiled. It was the smile of a rotting jack-o-lantern, and it showed a glint of teeth. “Not a bad place to die,” she said, almost to herself. “But most people deserve better.”

“Do you have food?” Xian had crouched down, like she was speaking to a sleepy child. “Or–or do you know how to get some?”

“No,” Wolf Lady said. “No. You don’t need to get food. You need to get out.”

Silence. Outside, the wind wailed.

“What happened here?” Xian asked. Her voice was tight, thin. “I found these–all these bones.”

“You what?” Siobhan said.

“War,” Wolf Lady said. There was something inarticulable in her voice, a kind of grief that had exhausted all other avenues and therefore had no choice but to live forever in this cave.

“They were huge bones.”

“Big war.” Wolf Lady opened her eyes again. “Maybe you’ve noticed it. Wasn’t the kind of thing you can get out of the carpet. You, two-headed one. Grab my specs.”

“Specs?” Presley said, confused, but Ana tapped her head and then pointed to one edge of the cave, where a pair of thin, cracked glasses had gathered what looked like years’ worth of dust and melted snow.

Xian was the one who picked them up, but she handed them to Ana. On some old impulse, Ana slid them over the bridge of her nose.

Immediately, the world exploded in a paroxysm of color, spreading across the four of them like an oil slick. Wolf Lady seemed to be the center of it, bleeding orange from every inch, but there was so much of it coming from everywhere that Ana had to pull them off again.

“You can use those to get home,” Wolf Lady said, in the tone that one might say you can use salt to improve this soup. “Find the portals. For the love of God, get out of here.”

Ana cradled them against her chest. Siobhan looked openly skeptical, but she hadn’t tried them on. Ana believed that the glasses could do whatever they had to. Could reach through time and bring them back to some soft, scared world where everything they needed was still in one piece.

“Are you coming with us?” Xian asked. Her voice had gone quiet again, the way it did when she already knew the answer. Like when she predicted the endings of movies, the sad, certain everyone dies.

Wolf Lady laughed. As strange and animalistic as the rest of her was, her laugh seemed very human. “A very, very long time ago, I worked at a place where the only rule was that the kids had to make it out okay. The rest of us–well, it depended on how the forest felt. But we made it a long time, on that rule. I’m not breaking it now.”

“Thank you,” Presley said. Every word out of Presley’s mouth had an incredible gravity to it even in the silliest of situations; now, Ana could hardly bear to hear it. “We’ll remember you forever.”

“Oh, don’t do that to yourselves,” Wolf Lady said. “My name is Rosie. Think of it every once in a while, and forgive yourselves for the rest.”

Outside, everything was degrees of white and black, the snow bracing itself against the sky. Presley’s stomach was a black hole, and the rest of her was so numb as to cave in on itself.

She took one of Siobhan’s hands and one of Xian’s. Ana reached down and squeezed her shoulder.

They began to walk, and across the end of the world, a portal blinked into being

#okay take 3 #lumberjanes #lumberjanes week #my writing #for context: this is yesterday's prompt which i accidentally posted on a sideblog at 4am

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goldenslumbersfanfiction · 3 years

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Prompt: Luna, Dani, and Jamie celebrating their first mother’s day💕💕💕

Coming in under the buzzer for May for this one ✨ my heart is always so full when I get to play in the Luna sandbox 😭🥰

Also, thoughts on posting prompts on Ao3? I’m new to this so thoughts and ideas are welcome!

This day never really meant anything to you, aside from the last couple of years after opening the shop. Mother’s Day weekend was one of your busiest times of the year. This was not something you predicted in your first year open, both you and Dani simply forgetting you lived in a world where this was a big deal. That day was your first real lesson in what it means to run a business, only open for a fresh two months, and you quickly learned to have extra stock for this day.

But before you opened the shop, you’d spend this day puzzled, wondering why it was so hard to get in anywhere for brunch, until one of you realized, or a sweet but overwhelmed hostess would kindly inform you of the day.

This day was always a strange one for you, whenever you took the time to dwell on it, your mother leaving you so young. You hadn’t heard a single thing about her since you were so small, and days like this always made you feel like there was so much on this earth that was just not made for you.

This day was always a strange one for Dani, too. Her never knowing if she should call her mother, after months of silence on both ends, her contentious relationship with obligation scratching its nails through her instincts. You would tell her it was just a day, and she didn’t have to call if she didn’t want to. She never did, but it would still weave tension into her shoulders, still sew stress into her routines. It would take her a few days to shake out, too, for her to forget that it felt like she did something wrong, the echoes of it resonating deep inside of her.

Last year, this day came and went with a new sort of curiosity, though, a strange apprehension for joy. Stuck in a limbo of not quite one, but not really the other yet either, with Dani fit to burst at any second; ‘10 months pregnant,’ as she described it with a groan any time she had to stand up. Last year, Dani was home resting and waiting, and you were at work, always within a one meter radius of the phone just in case Dani called, and let your trusted associate, Sue, run the show. She would be in charge of the business while you and Dani got settled when the baby came, and you knew she would be great, but that day showed you that you made a great decision when you put your trust in her.

It was still two weeks until Luna came last year after this day, late in May, a strange mix of joy and terrible fear all at once until Dani woke up and you truly, for the first time, felt like Luna was yours, when you saw her safe and snug in Dani’s arms.

But this year, with your baby almost one year old, with her running around your apartment with a new ecstatic knowledge of what her legs are for, with her few intentional sounds starting to sound like words, with her little chunky fingers pointing to things she wants, you start to feel like this day could mean something else. This day could be something better.

You didn’t make plans. The shop would be bursting with spring and with brightness already, and Dani was actually so much better at making Mother’s Day arrangements than Sue was, and you decided you didn’t need anything different. Luna was still so young, and you normally would bring her to daycare or have a sitter stay with her at home on a day as busy as this, but you decided you still wanted to be with her, because you were still figuring out what this days means for you, but you know that it has to include the three of you, together. So you bring her to the shop, and have your full staff in to help with the morning rush.

She cries a lot. She’s fussy, and she runs away from Dani’s grip and pricks her hand on a little cactus, and she’s wiggly in your arms when you’re holding her, and she knocks down a pot that is sent shattering to the ground, dirt and terracotta getting everywhere. And she’s hungry, but doesn’t want to eat anything you packed for her, and she refuses to keep her shoes on.

Dani sees you losing patience when Luna is whining in your arms and trying to escape your grip and get to the floor, and she sweeps over to you and pulls her out of your arms and she disappears with her into the back room.

The rush calms down around an hour after that, but Dani doesn't come back out. When the shop finally clears out for the first time all morning, you let out a deep breath and you feel your bones and your muscles creak with it.

You push into the back room, and you don’t see Dani in her favorite spot, or Luna in her playpen, or either of them in this space, but you see the door to the yard cracked open and you hear Luna’s sweet little laugh drifting through the air. It's only a small space out there, mostly just for your extra outdoor stock and bags of soil, not really enough to open as an area for customers to shop, but it’s nice, and Dani organized it to make it pleasant to be in.

And you peak your head through the door and see Dani sitting in the center of it, cross-legged on the ground with Luna standing in front of her, holding onto Dani’s outstretched hand to keep her balance, and Dani has the sweetest, happiest smile on her face as she watches your daughter’s head swivel in wonderment as she follows the flight of a monarch butterfly.

It’s so simple, when Dani turns her head slightly and sees you leaning against the doorframe, and you just smile back and watch them.

You’re reminded, then, of a day early in Dani’s pregnancy. She had just come back into your room, fresh from the shower and just in her underwear and her favorite red sleep shirt, and she was only just starting to show. It was what Dani had called the ‘burrito baby’ stage, only showing just enough that no one asked if she was pregnant, because they might have just thought she had a really big lunch.

But she had stood in front of your full length mirror in the corner of your room, something that you’ve noticed she’d been doing more and more often, running her hands along her belly, looking at her reflection and assessing how her body was forming around this little thing inside of her. She had looked over to you, where you sat on your bed watching her over your book, and smiled so sweetly, just like she’s smiling at you now. And it wasn’t much different than all the times before when she had done this, when she walked back over to bed and kissed you and settled in beside you, turned the TV on and laughed along to the low hum of a sitcom while you read beside her. But for whatever reason, that particular time, you were struck with an intense, all consuming fear.

And you had talked to Dani in great length about your worries before she even got pregnant, but it was sudden right then, when all of the joy and all of the happiness that you have been feeling about this baby turned into dread, turned into the inevitability that you will fail at this, turned ice cold like you were being plunged into the sins of your past, and all you could think about was how unprepared you were, how completely idiotic you were to even consider this, how stupid you were to think you could handle it.

Dani stayed up with you until one in the morning that night, even though you told her around shaky breaths that she should rest, she just shook her head, so calmly, and said she wouldn’t be able to sleep until you felt safe. You talked through it, and what it came down to really, was how much love you didn’t expect to contain, more than you’ve ever held at once, how much fear came along with it, and how it all bottlenecked at once trying to escape you. And Dani assured you she felt it all too, how it scared her every day just how much you were going to get wrong. But she also talked about how much you would get right. How excited, how honored she felt, to give someone what neither of you were lucky enough to get.

You fell asleep that night with her head in the crook of your neck, with her belly pressing into yours, and the warmth of Dani’s body against yours, of the small gentle press of your baby into your own body was more grounding than anything else.

But Luna is here now, laughing and stretching her arms toward you, and she is so much beyond what you ever could have imagined that night curled up around your growing little family. She is so much more than you ever thought something so small could contain. Dani is so much more, too, and you think, maybe, so are you.

And it’s Mother’s Day, and you never really felt like this day was made for you, you still felt strange accepting warm wishes from your customers all day. You never bought into the sentiment of it, the commercialism of it, feeling like it was tacky sometimes, especially when you had to bulk order plastic “Happy Mother’s Day” stakes to stick into your otherwise beautiful bouquets.

But right here, when you pick your daughter up from the ground and swing her up over your head, and you hear her delighted shriek, when Dani stands up and reaches her hands out, instinctually worried that you might fling her into the air by accident, you think it might not be all bad.

It’s not all bad, when Luna is strapped into her car seat on your way home and you hear her blabbing nonsense that makes you laugh, and you see Dani with her eyes closed and a faint smile on her face as she listens to it too, her head against the headrest, another busy day behind you.

It’s not all bad, when you get home that night and Luna is the cuddliest and softest she’s been all week, snuggled up against you where you sit with her on the couch while Dani makes dinner, so warm and so safe, as her eyelids grow heavy with sleep against the vibrations in your chest as you talk to Dani from across the room.

And you didn’t need anything special, but you couldn’t have asked for a better day.

#little green #little green one shots #promps #asks #luna #the littlest love of my life

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iloveyou3thousand · 4 years

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Witch Peter x Werewolf Tony. Every witch has a familiar

This is sad. I made it sad. I’m sad :’)

CW: mentions of character death, mentions of past pepperony, angst with a hopeful ending

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Tony had promised himself again and again, night after night, that this would be his last drink. That he’d stop after that, leave the booze the hell alone, but every time he picked up the glass and put it to his lips he knew that he wasn’t going to.

It was the only constant in his life these days. Food was scarce and that had worn him down to the slim, almost sickly figure he currently was, and he didn’t see any reason to spend what little money he had on food instead of another couple of glasses of something that would help him forget.

He would give anything to forget.

Ever since Pepper passed away, things had been going downhill, and they’d been going downhill fast. He had never managed along very well, and being without his witch took the cake. He’d lost weight, gained a nasty drinking habit, and had never been more nihilistic. But how could he be anything else if he knew that he was going to die shortly if he didn’t find another witch anyway?

He was never going to survive for very long, but Pepper had swept in and taken him under her wings, she had been kind and nurturing and had helped him up when he’d been at his lowest.

Although maybe he had never been lower than he was at that moment.

When Tony’s hands shook and he could barely sit straight, he slid off the barstool and decided to spend what could very well have been his last night on earth taking in the streets he’d once loved so dearly. Maybe he could find his way back to where he’d first met his witch. That seemed like a good place to rest his head.

He started making his way down the street, hands deep in the pockets of his jeans, shoulders hunched against the cold. He thought he could feel someone’s eyes on him as he crossed to take a shortcut through some side streets, but he shook the feeling. People probably thought he was up to something. He didn’t blame them.

He continued down the street, ducked into an alley, crossed it, and ducked into another one. The fewer people saw him the better. That way he could get to his destination unnoticed and unbothered.

But it seemed that wasn’t in the stars for him.

Although his senses had weakened since he’d lost Pepper, he still picked up on footsteps behind himself. He knew that if someone jumped him now, he wouldn’t be able to defend himself – he didn’t stand a chance. He forced himself to go a little faster, until the voice of a young man reached him, uncertain and curious.

“Sir? Um, Mister?”

Could be a trap, Tony thought. He’d heard of people using kids to lure others in now, for human trafficking but also for the collection of familiars. Tony did not want to end up forcefully bonded to some witch he didn’t know, in a country he’d never been to, among people he’d never seen before. No thank you.

And yet Tony stopped in his tracks and turned slowly to face the young man standing a couple feet away. There was a safe distance between them, and there was a bright light overhead illuminating the narrow alley, yet Tony couldn’t help but feel cornered.

The person standing at the mouth of the alleyway was young, but he didn’t look as young as he sounded. Tony assumed those were nerves bringing the boy’s voice up an octave or two. Huh.

Tony looked at him cautiously and expectantly.

“Hi,” the boy said, and he fumbled a little with his hands, “Sorry to bother you. It’s just—I saw you cross the street back there, and I couldn’t help but notice your shadow.”

Tony looked at the shadow cast just behind himself. Although it looked like a normal, human silhouette to him, he knew that to witches it looked different.

“You’re a familiar, aren’t you?” The boy continued, “A… A wolf, if I’m not mistaken.”

“What’s it to you?” Tony snarled. He didn’t have time for this. Nor the patience. At least the kid had the audacity to look sheepish before he spoke again.

“I don’t mean to be rude, but you look like maybe you could use some…help?”

Tony narrowed his eyes at him for a moment, but before he could even think of a good way to reply to that, the witch opened his mouth again, and a flood of words came out, leaving Tony stunned for a second.

“I’m really not trying to be mean. I promise. It’s just that I was raised right, you know? And so when I see someone in need and there is something I can do about it, then I can’t just walk away without doing what I can. And when I saw your shadow, and I saw how weak it really was, I knew that like… You’ve probably lost your witch, pretty long ago by the looks of it, and I don’t have a familiar myself so I thought I could approach you to offer you a place to stay for the night—not that you have to accept. And not that you can’t fend for yourself, or that you need to accept me as your new witch or anything, I mean we barely know each other and I’m just kind of springing this onto you, but—”

The boy took a deep breath, and bit on his lower lip.

“So what I mean to say, is, um. If you’d like, you could…come with me. Just for the night. I know even just staying with a witch alone will help you feel better. You have a very vibrant aura, and I just… I just don’t want someone like you to waste away.”

Tony was perplexed.

He’d been wandering the streets by himself for close to a month now, trying to get by after he’d lost everything. He had the worst time trying to find a new witch and had eventually given up because no one wanted a familiar like him. No one wanted an old, greying wolf. And now there was this kid, approaching him in the middle of the night, offering to give him a place to stay alongside a witch so that he could regain some of his strength.

Something in the back of his mind told him that this could still be a trap. It very well could be, and he was walking right into it, because there was something about the boy that made Tony want to believe him and go with him.

He realized that silence had fallen between them when the other spoke up yet again. He really was trying, huh?

“My aunt is a nurse so I know of some pretty good potions. I know of one that can help avoid a hangover? I’d suggest one that sobers you up but something tells me that that’s not something you want.”

Tony opened his mouth to say something, but once again, he didn’t get the chance. Was he getting slower with every passing minute or was the kid just that fast?

“Oh, I’m Peter by the way. What’s your name?”

“Tony,” Tony finally managed, shaking his head slowly in disbelief, “Why should I trust you?”

Peter looked a little taken aback for a moment, then almost hurt, before he put a sheepish smile on his face. “I mean, you don’t really have any reason to, I know. I thought I might offer. You don’t have to say yes. I just saw you, and—you looked so lost.”

Tony huffed. Lost. Yeah, that was one word for it.

He had to make a decision. Either he went with this kid – Peter – now, or he walked toward certain death in the place he’d first met Pepper. And while he had already kind of resigned himself to that fate, he realized by just considering his options now, that he didn’t actually want to die just yet.

So he took a hesitant step forward, and watched how Peter’s face lit up. The young man gestured with his hand, and a portal into a cozy-looking living room opened up.

“It’s okay, Tony,” Peter said softly before Tony ducked through, “I’ll take care of you. I promise.”

The living room was warm and it smelled like someone had been burning scented candles. There was a comfortable couch that looked beyond inviting to Tony, a soft rug, small coffee table, and a television on an old, wooden television stand next to a bookcase filled to the very brim with books on all types of subjects. The room wasn’t big by any means, but it was comfortable. Tony wondered if Peter lived there alone.

Speaking of Peter, the kid appeared by his side again after he’d rummaged around the kitchen, and he was given a mug with something warm in it, steam rising up from the surface. It didn’t smell like anything he’d had before.

“Drink up,” Peter encouraged. He went to sit on the couch and patted the space next to him so that Tony could sit down, too, which he did.

He sipped at the mug and found the taste strange but not repulsive.

“It’s a homemade blend. I was really drunk like, once, and it helped really well. Oh—do you want something to eat? You must be starving.” Peter hopped up from his seat and disappeared into the kitchen again, only to return with a steaming bowl of chicken noodle soup and a few bread rolls, some of which had slices of ham in between them. He set it all down in front of Tony, who had just about finished off the potion.

“Do you always invite strange familiars into your house to give them chicken soup?” Tony asked when he looked up from the food. He was hungry though, starving, so it didn’t take long for him to tuck in at all.

“Um, well no. But there’s a first time for everything, right?”

Tony couldn’t help but huff a small chuckle at the way Peter said it. As if this was the most exciting thing that had happened to him in a while. Maybe it was.

He finished the soup and the bread rolls and was happy to say that he hadn’t felt this satisfied in a long time. With a full stomach, his other aches and pains were much easier to manage, as it didn’t all come crashing down on him so heavily all at once.

But it also made the truth hit hard.

He wasn’t aware of the tears in his eyes until Peter’s hand landed softly into his hair and his fingertips scratched ever so gently at his skull. Tony’s face felt hot with embarrassment, but he couldn’t stop the tears. Peter – bless his heart – saw what was happening, and recognized it for what it was, and pulled Tony closer until Tony gave up and wrapped his arms around the young man while his face buried into Peter’s shirt.

No one had held him since he’d lost his witch. He didn’t think anyone had bothered, or cared. But now there was this boy who didn’t know him but who held him like he understood exactly what was going on. Tony briefly wondered if maybe Peter had lost his familiar. Witches usually met their first familiar early on in their childhood, but Tony couldn’t smell one on Peter. Maybe he was alone, too.

Peter held Tony until the man calmed down, stroking his hair and petting a hand up and down his spine.

“Do you want to shift?” Peter asked when he calmed down a little.

Tony nodded, but then backtracked a little. “I don’t think I can,” he breathed out. Peter just held him a little bit tighter.

“Of course you can. Just relax. I’m right here.”

And so Tony shifted.

Not with ease by any means. It had been so long since he’d last done so, since he’d last felt comfortable enough to. With Pepper, it had always been so easy. But now that he no longer had her, it felt impossible.

But Peter held him through it all, as promised, soothed him with softly whispered words of encouragement and gentle touches to the places that ached most as his body changed to fit his alternate form.

Tony was exhausted by the time his head sank into Peter’s lap. All the energy he had left drained from him, and yet at the same time he felt strangely invigorated. He had shifted! It was scary being so vulnerable around someone he’d just met, but Peter had given him no reason to distrust him so far. Even now, he held Tony, and stroked both hands through his fur, and he was beaming when Tony looked up at him.

“You’re beautiful,” Peter said, and Tony could have sworn that his cheeks looked a little pink, “Sorry if that’s a weird thing to say. Um. Time for bed?”

And so it was.

Peter cleaned up and said his goodnight after he’d found some extra pillows and a nice blanket for Tony to curl up among on the couch, and then he disappeared into his bedroom.

The couch could have, and should have, been nice enough for Tony to sleep on, but he was restless. Exhaustion kicked in again after a short while, and it wasn’t the type that helped him fall asleep any better. He itched to go and find his way back to Peter again, which came naturally to Tony, but it was also surprising to feel that way so quickly.

He’d barely known Peter for more than two hours and now he was aching to be next to him again already.

Tony stayed on the couch for a little while longer to see if that feeling would go away naturally and allow him to sleep, but it kept him awake. Frustrated, he hopped off the couch, and followed the trail of Peter’s scent toward a closed door. Tony could have easily opened it, just reached a paw up to the door handle and push it down to let himself in – but that kind of felt…invasive.

So he scratched lightly at the door instead. If Peter was awake, he’d hear it and he would let him in. And if Peter was asleep already, then he’d just have to go back to his own nest and simply rest. Or wait until the exhaustion got the best of him.

Tony scratched for a few moments, but he didn’t pick up on any sounds on the other door, any movement. Peter must have already been asleep.

With a huff, he dropped to the floor, and rested his heavy head on crossed paws, nose tucked against the door. He felt like a defeated pup. Jesus, when was the last time he’d acted like that?

Tony had just closed his eyes, when the door opened a crack, and Peter’s head poked out. When the boy’s eyes landed on Tony, he blinked at him.

“Hey, Tony,” he said slowly, and opened the door further so he could crouch down in front of the wolf, “What’s the matter? Was that you scratching the door? Why aren’t you in bed?”

As an answer, Tony lifted his head and crowded into Peter’s space until Peter’s hands fell into his fur again, a soft whine in the back of his throat. God, that alone already felt miles better.

It was quiet for a long few moments while Peter gently pet him again, Tony’s head in his lap and his tail wagging slowly.

“If you want… You could sleep with me?” Peter suggested, almost loud in the quiet of the night. Tony didn’t need to be told twice. When Peter stood and stepped aside to allow him into the room, Tony took the invitation and sniffed around for a bit before eventually making his way toward what smelled like the epicenter of Peter’s scent – his bed.

Peter crawled back under the covers, and when he patted the space next to him, Tony lay his head there, sitting down next to the bed. Peter ruffled the fur between his ears.

“Not like that, silly. Come on. Hop up. I know my bed’s not big, but… I’m sure we can fit. If you don’t mind snuggling. I don’t know if that’s weird.”

Tony would have told Peter that he was the king of weird, if he’d been able to speak. Instead, he jumped up onto the space Peter had made for him, and tried to lay his large body down in a way that didn’t have Peter pressed up against the wall all the way. It was tricky, and didn’t exactly work until Peter curled himself around the wolf and snuggled up like he’d promised, but the result could have had Tony rumbling with satisfaction.

He hadn’t felt this content in weeks.

Granted, this didn’t solve everything, but the mere fact that a near-stranger could make him feel like maybe things were starting to look up a little bit, made him hopeful for the future.

With Peter’s arms around him and his face tucked into his neck and his hands in his fur, Tony fell asleep with surprising ease, and he slept all through the night and well into the morning. Thanks to the potion Peter had given him, he woke up without a hangover, to the smell of breakfast cooking in the kitchen.

God, when was the last time he’d woken up like that?

Tony stretched leisurely in the empty bed, and was slow to push himself up on all fours and hop off the bed. He was hungry, he noticed. Hungry at last. He finally had his appetite back.

And as he made his way into the hallway and toward the sound of friendly voices in the kitchen, Tony realized that things were changing.

Peter had never made the promise that he could stay more than just one night, and Tony had never insinuated that it was something he wanted or even just wanted to consider, but the fact of that matter was that he was feeling good, all things considered. He wanted to hold on to that feeling for a little while longer, and if Peter was the person who brought that out in him…

Maybe he could find a way to stay. Maybe he could put the effort in and make this work. Peter was likeable, and he’d been so very good to him up until now. Tony would be lucky if the young man decided that he wanted Tony to stick around.

So he would try. For the both of them.

After all, he was pretty sure it was what Pepper would have wanted.

#starker #peter parker/tony stark #starker fanfic #marvel #ironspider #tony stark #peter parker #past pepperony #pepper potts #my fanfic #my writing #aus #werewolf au #witch and familiar au #angst with a happy ending #angst with a hopeful ending #angst #silentsunplays #replies

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iscream4starscream · 4 years

Text

I Think I Saw a Ghost

A Captain Rex x oc/self-insert fic

Summary: Uh.... just a little blurb and quick taste of my OC, Neiza, and her relationship to the 501st.

Just a little disclaimer... I haven’t written anything, let alone something of fiction and a self-insert fic at that, in over a year. So please bear with me here. I tried not to give too much of my oc away from the start, because I hope to write more of her or fill in the spaces in another way. Also, Bleu, the wolf, is the size of a normal earth wolf. You can read this as like in ATLA all the animals are two together, except the earth kings “bear,” or you can read this as not all Lothe wolves are fucking massive. I hope one of those two makes sense to you.

Anyway I was super scared to write this let alone post it here and it was a last minute decision so... be nice :’)

*********

The corridors were filled with life and laughter.

The 501st had another victory under their belts, and it might as well have been an overkill. They were already pushing through the Separatist’s ranks when you arrived, with total control over the battle and success in their sights. You had already completed your private mission, but had overheard the battle on your way back to your ship. You always had strict orders to return to Coruscant after immediate completion of any of your missions, as you often held important and delicate information for the Republic, or risked blowing cover.

But you were known for ignoring orders.

With your trusted companion guiding you, a blue grey wolf named Bleu, you both made a dash towards the sounds of battle, and found yourself behind enemy lines. Blinded by surprise and taking heat from two fronts, the droid forces fell in record time. Of course, coming in unannounced frequently left the clones just as confused, and you were often greeted by men pointing blasters at your face before they recognized their ally. These uneasy greetings were becoming less frequent, however; they were finally starting to remember your name too. Back on Coruscant they invited you to the mess hall, and though you were hesitant, you followed them anyway.

“You know, I thought ghosts weren’t supposed to have a shadow?” Hardcase lightly elbows you in the shoulder, and you reciprocate with a light punch to his back as he skips ahead of you and his brothers. Ghost was the nickname someone had given you, you were uncertain who started it, but it had spread across the entire Republic Army. And the shadow he referred to was your beastly companion Bleu, whom never seemed to leave your side.

Out of mere fate, you seemed to be around the members of the 501st the most, despite your missions being private and solo. You knew almost all of them by their names. Echo, Fives, Jesse, Dogma, and Tup were grouped around you as you all walked to the mess hall.

“Oh, and I thought clones were supposed to be smart!” You call after him, followed by a smirk. Bleu, keeping pace next to you, makes a grunt. There were various conversations and chatter, but Fives, who always left an ear open for you, laughs at your joke and jumps ahead to put Hardcase in a headlock. He began knocking Hardcase’s head with a clenched fist.

“I think she’s right boys, nothing in here but air!” Five’s teases as Hardcase tries to break free and stifle his laughter. There is a smile on everyone’s face as you finally reach the mess hall, already filled with other members of the 501st. Hardcase finally wrestles free from Fives and practically falls onto the bench of the nearest table, followed by Jesse who comes in just as hot, sliding across and nearly knocking Hardcase off the other end. As the rest of the group takes a seat, you find yourself standing awkwardly at the end of the table, and Fives, recognizing your position, scoots over to make room for you. He pats the space next to him.

“Put her here, Ghost!” Fives winks at you, but you don’t move. The chatter at the table had suddenly ceased, and you felt the rest of the men staring at you. Even Bleu glanced up in confusion. Fives, sensing something is wrong, pulls his hand back in regret “Do...wolves sit at tables? We can make space for him too...”

You suddenly realize your silence and lack of motion has left awkward confusion, and you speak abruptly.

“No. It’s.... I’m not hungry anymore. I will catch you guys another time...” And the next moment you turn on your heals, taking your leave at a brisk pace. You can hear Fives behind you, asking his brothers if it was something he said. Bleu is quick to take his pace beside you, touching his nose to the palm of your hand in his way to say “I’m with you, truly.”

You’re not really sure where you’re going until you’ve found it, and you stop in a short, abandoned hallway, an echo of your shaky exhale reverberating down the walls. Bleu whines, knowing there is something on your mind and itching in your throat, and he wants to make it disappear. You run your fingers through the thick fur on top of his head, and chuckle. “Where would I be without you, my one and only?” Bleu wags his tail in response, but still his concerning gaze digs into yours, begging for more.

You sigh, because you don’t want to be alone in this hallway, but you don’t believe you belong anywhere else either. Since you were 12, it had always just been you, and then you found Bleu, and then you were alone together. Even when you found your way to Coruscant, and snuck your way into the schooling system, it was just you and Bleu. Now, fighting for the Republic, you didn’t even belong to a specific legion....

Bleu twitched under your touch, and a low growl rumbled from his lips. You whipped around, hand ready on the pocket staff secured to your hip, only to find a very alarmed, but familiar, face.

“You seem to surprise my men all the time, I only thought it fair to return the favor.”

“Ugh... dammit Rex...” You relax your position, and Bleu glides over to meet the Captain, tail wagging with vigor.

“Hey there big guy.” Fear over the wolf had subsided a long time ago among the members of the 501st, and some of the men even enjoyed and welcomed his company. Rex especially, but it wasn’t just the gentle beast that he admired, it was you, too. He looked to you now with just as much concern as Bleu had moments before.

“Fives told me you left the mess hall in a hurry, and I know you don’t take care of yourself during your missions...”

Your expressions immediately hardened, and you scoffed. “I’m fine, Captain.” You went to walk past him, but not before he placed a firm hand on your shoulder, stopping you. You pushed it away and took a step back. Rex looked at you, wide-eyed and struck by your actions. Bleu looked between the both of you, just as confused. You weren’t getting out of this one, and your act to be coarse just left your audience confused. Your demeanor melted in defeat.

“I’m sorry Rex, I just wanted to be alone right now.” You pleaded with your hazel eyes, but the look on Rex’s face returned to care.

“I know, but that’s kind of the problem. You never cease to aid myself and my men in the battlefield, even by your own accord and without direct orders. But the minute the fighting is over, you run away and hide like... well... a ghost.”

You feel the air getting heavy, and you want nothing more than to just disintegrate and float away, just as he’s describing, like you always do. Rex can see that he’s reaching your limits - both of your limits, and he stumbles quickly through his words.

“Ghost... I mean... Neiza....” he says your real name, and you look at him curiously, as the clones almost never use it. His face gets red, and he scratches his neck and takes a deep breath before looking you in the eyes again.

“Neiza, you belong with us. With the 501st, Fives, Echo, Jesse.... all of them. We don’t want you to be a ghost anymore. We want you, Neiza. Let us get to know you, not just your skills on the battlefield.”

And Rex watches you, waiting for some sort of answer, worried he’s said it all wrong, even after discussing it a million times with his men. When you cover your face with your hands, he immediately regrets every word, and reaches out to you. “Neiza I’m sorry I didn’t...”

Your hand reaches out and stops his without you looking. “Don’t touch me, I’m trying not to cry.”

Rex pulls back. “Oh, this wasn’t the plan, Neiza, I wasn’t supposed to...”

Suddenly behind your hands, you laugh, and as you pull your hands away they reveal a blushed face and a single tear. You punch Rex lightly on the chest, and he stares at you blankly, mouth ajar and unsure of what was happening.

You laugh again, but this time a smile is spread across your face.

“Look, I’m just as clueless about understanding my emotions as the rest of you. But... you have no idea how much all of what you said means to me. Really, Rex.”

And your both blushing like the hallway is on fire, words completely lost in the mended space between you both. It feels like a millennium before you decide to awkwardly outstretch your hand towards him, and he questions it before looking back at you.

“Um.... friends, Captain?”

Rex chuckles and grins, before firmly shaking your hand in return.

“Yes Sir, friends.”

And your hands linger, entwined, just a few seconds longer than they should, before they are both returned respectfully to your sides. Bleu, who had been silently watching from the sidelines, understands the change in the force and barks and taps his feet excitedly.

Rex rolls his shoulders, finally dropping the weight of the conversation behind them. He waves his hand and starts down the hallway, back towards the mess hall. “Why don’t we go eat and share some more good news then?”

You nod, taking step beside him and Bleu beside you. Rex takes a quick glance down at you, and he could swear that you were glowing.

“Now that I think of it, I haven’t eaten in three days.”

Rex looks at you in shock. “What?”

You continue walking, unphased, and Rex shakes off your comment, thinking to himself he will have to address it another time, when you’re ready.

And the only thing that remained transparent that evening was your new sense of belonging.

#swtcw #captain rex x oc #captain rex x reader #captain rex x ghost #captain rex

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lilithsgayadoptednephew · 4 years

Text

Holy Hands

Fandoms: Shall We Date?: Obey Me! Not Rated Graphic Depictions Of Violence F/M, Other Complete Work

Chapter List

Chapter 19

Everyone piled back into the van, taking the same seats they'd had the day before out of familiarity. There were some notable changes though.

Lucifer felt much better after his third day of solid sleep, so he happily took the role of driver. Satan didn't want to take Lucifer's seat next to Beel and Belphie in the far back. For reasons he made very clear.

"I don't want to have to sit in front of Mammon . He'll pickpocket me or something." He glared back at the offending brother.

"Well maybe if I didn't have to ride in the trunk we wouldn't be arguing!" He countered.

"Sorry, there's nine of us and only eight seats. Someone's gotta sit in the trunk." Beel shrugged.

"I'll do it!" Acacia volunteered enthusiastically.

"No hey hey NO! I sit in the trunk, alright? me." He punctuated his statement by taking a defensive stance.

"Well ok then weirdo." She crossed her arms.

"Hey what about me?" Satan spoke up. "I still don't want to sit in front of Mammon."

"Suffer." Lucifer hissed before he started the car, effectively ending the discussion.

They drove in silence once again, broken periodically by tomfoolery and shenanigans.

0Utter confusion lined the brothers faces as they stared at the small house.

"Where's the rest of it?" Mammon asked rudely, earning him a solid slap on the back of the head by Lucifer.

"This is your house..?" Satan eyed the humans suspiciously.

"Give me one good motive I could have to trick you." Was MC's cold response.

Satan shut up.

"Can't we...find somewhere else?" Levi asked cautiously.

"Nope, this is it." Acacia said, popping the 'P' in the word 'Nope'.

"This is the only piece of earth we own, it's here or outside again." MC shrugged.

The brothers looked at each other in silent agreement to never sleep outside again.

"Well it's only temporary." Lucifer reasoned. "And it's actually pretty cozy from what I've seen" he looked expectantly at MC.

"Hm" was their only response.

What was their problem?

"Well...I call the tub" Levi grumbled.

"Knock yourself out man." Acacia giggled making the nerd blush as they headed inside.

0Unsurprisingly, Beel ate them out of house and home in a matter of hours.

"Wow, it took you awhile to clean out the kitchen, usually you'd go through that in seconds." Belphie teased from the couch he'd claimed.

"Well humans..-burp- can't unhinge their jaws without it really hurting." He rubbed his cheek, probably speaking from experience. "Oh…" he groaned a little as he sat down with Belphie.

"Something wrong big guy?" Acacia called from her spot on her beanbag.

"I...hurt." he hunched over as he spoke, there was a loud gurgling noise.

"You're still hungry?" She asked wide-eyed.

"No…" Another gurgle.

That answer was even more concerning.

"Maybe you're sick?" Belphie suggested.

"Maybe…" he agreed.

"Or maybe you ate too much?" Acacia put a finger to her temple and eyed Beel mischievously.

"Don't be ridiculous, I've never even seen Beel truly full." Belphie rolled his eyes. Beel took a big breath. Acacia just got up from her bag and went to the other room. She returned a few minutes later with a small red bottle and a spoon. Carefully pouring the liquid from the bottle into the spoon she offered it to Beel.

"Try this." She smiled.

Beel shook his head.

"Come on, it'll make you feel better."

Beel eyed the spoon with the mystery-liquid for a second before deciding he could trust Acacia. Taking the spoon from her he downed the liquid in one gulp. It was disgusting and he almost regretted swallowing it until a few minutes passed. The nausea and pain ebbed and he felt himself relax.

"What was that?" He smiled brightly.

"It's dextrose for nausea relief, it helps with discomfort and sickness due to overeating." She said simply.

Beel sat for a while just thinking. He watched Acacia return to the bathroom to put the bottle away. He watched Levi immediately steal her bean bag and place at the PlayStation. He watched Belphie start to dose on his shoulder. As he watched he realized something.

He wasn't hungry.

Was this how normal people felt? All the time???

There was no gnawing in his gut, he wasn't constantly sniffing the air to see if anyone was cooking, he was just content and happy. He was in the smallest house he'd ever lived in, and he was disgraced and left to hide like a fugitive. But he was indoors for the first time in days, and he was warm and comfortable and everyone he loved was there with him.

"What are you high?" MCs voice caught his attention. They'd come down from their room while he was stuck in thought.

"What?"

"You're grinning like a doofus." They clarified. "Seriously how does your face not hurt?" Levi and Belphie looked at Beel.

"Yeah...you are really smiley." Levi narrowed his eyes.

"I'm just thinking about how lucky I am." Beel said brightly, a large grin still spread across his cheeks.

"Ok weirdo."

0Belphie couldn't sleep.

He'd taken the floor out of courtesy since he could fall asleep practically anywhere, but he sorely regretted the decision now as he tossed and turned.

Was lying down always this horizontal?

The ground had absolutely no forgiveness for his pressure points, and the pillow he had wasn't nearly elevated enough. He rolled one more time onto his back, but his foot continued to fall asleep no matter what he did. If only he could follow it. Finally he resigned himself to doing the one thing he never thought he'd do in the middle of perfectly good sleep-time.

He got up.

Tiptoeing through the living room he was careful to step over Asmo sleeping fitfully on the beanbag. He thought about using the bathroom but decided to hold it when he remembered Levi's choice of bed. Maybe he should just piss outside like an animal, it would be fitting for a life on earth.

Earth, how could a place he once loved so much feel like such a prison to him now? And he knew all too well what it was to be a prisoner. Had he ever really left the attic? It was all a bit of a blur, he knew it was around the time where the two timelines had merged leaving him with two separate memories of the event. One of him escaping and... taking out his frustration on MC. The other of him still being a prisoner under Diavolo. That must have been what the other Belphegor had gone through, but it blended together as if both memories were his own.

He shook his head as he stared at the sky through the screen door in the kitchen, he must have wandered here while he was thinking. Interesting...Lilith always loved to look at Earth's sky. Something about seeing their heavenly home from below was so fascinating to her. Now the dark clouds looked angry and foreboding. Still fitting, Belphie thought bitterly to himself.

Something pushed against his legs almost giving him a heart attack, but when he looked down he was met with Chester lazily trying to get outside through the door. Belphie let the dog out before turning to go back to his floor.

"Belphie?" The call was quiet and very familiar.

"Beel...what are you doing up?" He greeted the tall silhouette.

"It's normal for me to be up in the middle of the night, why are you up?" Beel countered.

"Floors not comfortable" Belphie shrugged.

They stood for a moment, both twins being as close as they were were thinking about the same thing.

"This is really weird" Beel finally said.

"Yeah… none of us are acting right."

"Think it's cause we're human? That I can't eat and you can't sleep?"

"Gotta be, what else would it be?"

"You think maybe it's a good thing?" Beel had stepped very close to Belphie now, almost pressed against him.

"I think good or not...we're both having trouble with it." Belphie answered carefully.

"Well…" Beel thought for a moment. "I'll help you out if you want, I'm used to not being able to sleep."

"Yeah...and I'm used to losing my appetite." Belphie laughed. "Maybe together we can help each other through this."

"Sounds like a plan" Beel smiled, and Belphie didn't feel so trapped.

#obey me!#obey me fanfic #Holy Hands

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itsomgitsgreenblogging · 4 years

Text

The Anchor

So I literally wrote this in one day because I was having a lot of feelings about last night's episode and Fjord and Jester's relationship and how complicated and nuanced their relationship is in general.

This is not written to be particularly shippy, however, feel free to read into it as you like. I leave it purposefully open ended in that regard because, well, their relationship is open ended right now. I am just more interested in these characters and the way their different life philosophies interact.

Enjoy!

Preview:

The days in the north seemed to end much faster than those in the Menagerie Coast. The further that Fjord and Jester traveled the keener he felt that to be true. The air lacked that certain sumptuousness that it did along the coast where it was full of the sea, humidity, and a warmth that bled from the ground and swelled until everything shimmered like it was made of something costly. Even in the dregs of summer that bled into fall, the season felt austere. Fjord had known all his life that the Dwendalian Empire was a strict place, but even the rolling hills and forest lacked a sort of color that he was used to. It reminded Fjord of the washed out grey of a sea at storm, when there was barely any difference between frothy waves and storm clouds on the horizon.

He was sure that Jester felt it too, though she tended to attempt to fill their days with color in her own dizzying and breathless sort of way. Jester loved to talk but hated conversations, and that was why they had gotten along so swimmingly from the first moment they met. Fjord offered none of himself that he couldn’t spare, and Jester was an open book whose text needed to be decoded by someone who had a degree, and so they could spend all day circling a point like they were circling a drain. Fjord had never met anyone else in his life who knew how to dance over what they meant to say as deftly as he did before. He wondered where she had learned those valuable lessons, but didn’t pry. It was mostly for his sake because he was supposed to be using her. He had thought she had carried herself like someone who had money and such a person would be useful to travel with, and she did have money...at one point. Not any longer. It was just another one of those truths that both of them acknowledged but neither of them addressed outright. Eventually though, one of them had to crack open and offer the olive branch. For both of their sakes, Jester seemed to steel herself and bridge that divide.

“I’m sorry Fjord,” she murmured as she curled tighter at the base of the tree, offering that branch to him though she sounded like she loathed every second of it, like a child forced to pull a baby tooth before it was ready to fall on its own. Fjord let his eyes drift over to her for a moment, as he sat rod straight against the bark. Her hair wreathed her hair and dark blue curls like a crown and she didn’t move to fix it as she flopped around like a dying fish. “I shouldn’t have spent all that money.”

“It’s alright,” Fjord promised her as he gazed up into the boughs of the tree. A hawthorn tree contains multitudes, blossoming with beautiful flowers and sharp thorns, it was a song that an old sailor had crooned between puffing at a pennywhistle. It was too bad it was out of season, Fjord thought, he would have liked to see a hawthorn bloom for the first time in his life. His gaze drifted away and then settled beyond the wide dark plains of the empire. “We’ll figure it all out.”

“You always say that,” Jester grumbled, and Fjord could hear a pout in her voice as clear as day, see her violet-flushed cheeks and her furrowed brow. He felt a smile pull at his lips and the scars that lined the inside of his mouth from nail files and dislodged bones. It was typical, that even in these small moments that were happy, he still had to remember those things he wished he could have left behind.

“Have I been wrong yet?” Fjord asked, nudging her with the toe of his boot. Jester turned over like a roly-poly and stuck her tongue out properly at him. Fjord released a hearty laugh in return that felt far more natural. Laughter has been a frequent friend since he had met Jester, and he liked that most of the time he meant it with her. Even if he didn’t like to share himself, he disliked being dishonest. Lying by omission hurt much less.

“But I am sorry,” Jester admitted, her eyes wood-violets cast in shadows. Her blanket was wrapped up to her chin as she did nothing to extricate herself out of her cocoon. “If I had the money we could have traveled with the caravan.”

“My old captain once told me that if we live from our mistakes we ought to learn from them,” Fjord told her quietly, twining his fingers in the grass to anchor him. He pulled at it half-heartedly, feeling the dirt swell and contract with his gentle tugs.

“I won’t make that mistake again, the horse didn’t even appreciate her clothing!” Jester huffed. “I promise Fjord, when we find my dad it’ll all get figured out. We’ll be able to get new horses and find our way to that academy.”

“Get some sleep so we can switch,” Fjord told her, amused exasperation creeping into his voice. Jester rolled back over and curled up again, breath even though she was clearly not asleep. Fjord settled in again, against the trunk of that old tree. There was a promise in the north, like the promise of a shooting star. It was something ephemeral and hopeful that conflicted with that dark fear that roiled in his guts like churning black ocean water. If he could get there, perhaps he could find out what had seeped into his bones on that dark night and hadn’t let go.

Fjord shook his head, attempting to shake out those thoughts from his mind. Things were easier when Jester was awake for many reasons, but that was the main one. It was hard to focus on the past when she was dragging him along to the beat of her own drum, but as soon as he was alone all he could do was stew in those feelings that he had long wished to forget. Jester was kind and good and saw those good things in Fjord that Fjord knew that only existed like flashes of lightning, but Fjord knew he could have been better. He could have convinced that caravan leader who had turned them away, he could have done what he had needed to so that they would be safe and comfortable in a world that wasn’t nice to either of their kind.

Vandren had always been able to make people listen to him. Some people were just like that, they could command a room or a group of men with the ease of breathing. No one had ever listened to Fjord. He had practiced the art of disappearing until he was barely made of anything more than sea mist that dissipated in the morning sun. Perhaps that’s why he didn’t drown, Fjord had thought once. Fjord was nothing, as weightless as driftwood broken off from a whole and eroded until he was battered beyond repair. Though he knew that it wasn’t that. His lungs had filled with water just the same as any man. The miracle that had saved him and flung him to shore just as carelessly, intertwined with him and grew in him...deep in his heart he knew it wasn’t a miracle at all. Miracles don't happen to children tossed aside as easily as a stone. There would be a price to pay soon enough, he just hoped he would find someone who could help him before that.

If he could be more like Vandren...be the type of man that Vandren would trust, then maybe Fjord could make sense of the outside world. Jester deserved a friend like that at least, Fjord thought with a wince. Not whoever this pushover was. When someone joined with you in friendship there was a responsibility shared...a responsibility to be actively working towards the common good. He would take responsibility, Fjord decided. He would be the type of person that people could rely on, and if he had to discard that other person...well, there wasn’t much of him that he hadn’t discarded before to suit the needs of those who needed him.

This would be no different, but far more important.

_____

He pressed the breath in his lungs into her mouth as the weight of the ocean and all of his horrible decisions bore down on them with teeth and tendrils and hungry yellow eyes. Live, Fjord begged her. Live.

It wasn’t a kiss, Fjord thought pressed against the wall of a captain’s quarter later as Avantika’s fingers danced across his skin. Kisses were things freely given from the heart. Fjord had nothing left in him to save. It was just easier to think of that, of anything else, besides the things that were as plain as the nose on his face. It should have been her choice, but it hadn’t been. So it wasn’t a kiss. It was merely a desperate attempt to save someone else beside himself...to save someone deserving for once in his life. Somehow Fjord was always failing at the simplest of tasks.

And then he was saved. He wasn’t sure how he felt about that. Fjord was the worst kind of thief, the kind that took other’s precious things and pretended they were his own and that he was worthy and deserved them. But the goddess looked upon him, and told him he was worthy and that he did deserve to be saved. He supposed he just had to figure out what She saw in him that he didn’t.

Fjord would make it right. He had to. For all of their sakes, to deserve their trust and their love. Patched together Fjord and driftwood Fjord and empty Fjord wouldn’t cut it. He would be a Fjord that he could be proud of, that was his promise.

_________

Fjord never understood how such big consequences could be decided by such insignificant moments. He could trace a million split second decisions that had somehow led him here. And yet all of them seemed small compared to the moment he had hesitated and the moment that Jester had pushed forward into the hag’s hut and left them all behind. Beau released a strangled noise, her face still sallow. Yasha’s face had gone as hard as stone. Nott looked as if she wished she could sink into the center of the earth.

He was supposed to be different now, Fjord thought helplessly. He was different. He was no longer cutting himself apart to please others. He had been given a second chance by a fateful meeting, and had taken it. He was supposed to be stronger. He was supposed to protect them all. But instead it was Jester walking in alone, and then rushing out like the hounds of the nine hells were nipping at her feet.

Jester-Jester! Are you sure? Fjord had asked, begged as she came running out once more. There was panic under her smile that stretched across his features, magic pulsing under her skin and filling the air in a harried rhythm. Her veins were full of her god’s favor, that Fjord knew. She made them all shimmer like the diamond dust she had scattered across her skin, but never for her own sake it was always for someone else’s. It was that lack of care that had Fjord so deeply disturbed. There wasn’t much that Fjord couldn’t believe she wouldn’t trade away for them. She would trade her tongue for a person's life as he was tossed about in a storm, regardless of if that man deserved it or not. She would give beautiful scales for feet if that meant she could dance with her friends, regardless of if needles pierced her skin every step.

Everything’s fine, she reassured, her voice carrying a half-lullaby as if she was trying to soothe not only herself but the rest of them who were teetering between the edge of despair and terror. There was a lock of hair twisted around her horn that she didn’t fix, her tail lashed nervously about her legs, her smile was so tight he was afraid it would snap her lips. Fjord helped her gather their traumatized friends up and set them on course again.

Is it fine? Fjord wanted to beg her. Are you fine? I thought I was going to lose you all to a decision we couldn’t make together again. I was terrified. I was scared, I am always so scared. Are you scared? If you are scared then couldn’t we all be scared together? We are together, but I feel alone. Do you feel alone sometimes, Jester? Is that how you can face a creature like that alone and live to tell the tale?

But Fjord’s throat was too slick (with sea water, no something thicker, blood, maybe the sea serpent had taken his tongue this time) and no words could escape. Neither of them talked, because that’s what they did. How could one talk when silence was the price you paid for your wishes?

__________

In the chest there were two sets of silk clothing, gingerly folded and placed alongside a child’s doll that was damp to the touch. Amongst those items, there was a silver pocket watch. On the back of the pocket-watch Fjord caught a glimpse of initials as she turned it. B. V.

Big Viridian, Fjord thought, feeling a chuckle attempting to escape his throat as he thought on the woman who had taken them through the village of Rumblecusp. Veth turned the watch over in her hands, pulling out a small kit of tools and began to fiddle with it in an attempt to make it work. She grumbled as she did. That was Veth to a tee, Fjord thought idly amused, fixing something so small in such a huge clusterfuck of a situation. She gave up with a sigh, and Fjord watched as Jester reached across and fluttered her fingers. A mist of green and blue caught on the silver edge, and Fjord heard the ticking of the watch.

“You aren’t planning on keeping that are you?” Fjord asked Jester as she cupped it in her hands.

“Keeping what?”

“The pocket-watch,” Fjord clarified.

The doll’s leg was wet with mildew, and it had raggedy string hair. It had been a human perhaps, a girl doll of some sort. Fjord wondered if the little girl was still on the island, if she had grown up here or if she had washed up on shore like what felt like a lifetime ago and just kept the doll as some kind of momento. Did the clothes belong to her parents? To her? To someone important that she could never replace? What was the difference between these villagers in him? The only one he could think of was that he had just been lucky in the place he had landed.

Or maybe not, Fjord thought irritated as Jester explained her plan of interrogating the villagers to find B.V.

“What if they do remember? What if it’s important to them? What if they do remember and they don’t want to speak up for...I don’t know fear of retribution or being outed or something. We shouldn’t take it,” Fjord tried to explain the taste of a cold blade on the tip of his tongue, watching Jester’s face draw in like storm clouds in a grey sky.

“What if someone hears the ticking sound that follows us everywhere?” Caduceus added from where he was currently inspecting the box itself. Fjord found himself grateful to him for the millionth time since knowing him. Caduceus was steady at the wheel in a way that Fjord found himself lacking. Deep breaths, Cad had advised during one meditation. She can only hear you when you are breathing.

“Yeah, we know the initials we can put it back. It’ll be a nice treat to open a box and find it working,” Fjord attempted to explain to Jester, but she drew even further away from him.

“It was pretty dusty, but sure. Put it back, Fjord’s feeling honorable,” Jester said with a scoff and a look she shared with Nott as she tossed Nott the watch. Fjord leveled a glare at them both, and realized that he didn’t think he had ever glared at Jester before. He hadn’t liked how callous she had sounded...it made his stomach feel funny. It made him wonder if she was serious about things he had thought she was joking about like letting people blow up in a volcano or forget in a strange mist about her god-who-wasn’t-really-a-god. It made him doubt her...even though she had been the single constant in his life since this craziness had all begun.

He looked at her that night, with Yasha’s music still ringing...haunting and sad and beautiful in his ears. Jester slept fleetingly and restlessly, turning over in her sleep like she was on the verge of waking. Fjord wished for a moment he could make it stop. When had it happened? When had they drifted apart and become so disconnected? Their goals so misaligned? There were a thousand scattered memories, and yet Fjord couldn’t pinpoint one.

It’s just stress, a part of Fjord-the analytical one explained. She doesn’t know what her god wants. Hell, her god isn’t even a god. You know that feeling well enough, how it is to attempt to appease something far greater than you that you have no idea how to appease.

And what if he is disappointed in her? Another part of Fjord, the one terrified of turtles and scary noises in the dark and larger children with grabbing hands that pushed his head under water in buckets cried. We could barely protect any of them, or ourselves, from the wrath of one entity. What will we do if...what can we do?

They would have to talk, Fjord thought. For once, they would really need to talk.

He just hoped he didn’t lose her in the attempt to anchor her.

#critical role #critical role fanfiction #fjord #jester lavorre

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imagine-the-energon · 4 years

Text

We Were Wrong Chapter 4

Annabelle makes a few decisions

As soon as we landed, the storm cut almost all electronics with the exception of the Cybertronian ones, which was a godsend and a half as I don’t think I’d be able to lead the mission with only one working arm and leg. “Meerkat, Llama, see if you can get the extensions for the shuttle to work. Bunny, try to keep an eye on the radar to see if the scanners can cut past the interference for Spark Signatures. Jag,” the woman in question looked up, eyes shining. “Suit up; you’re with me on perimeter.”

“Roger that, Commander Draco.”

——————————————————————————————————-

I squinted at the makeshift scanner as I ran it up and down the rock where the signal was supposed to be coming, confusion building as it said that there was something Cybertronian in it. “Bunny, you got anything?”

“Commander, I’m getting a signal twenty miles south that match a spark signature! It appears to be fading in and out.” she replied quickly. “I recommend moving the shuttle closer and calling Stormreign and Steelbane in so that they can carry the Autobot back to the ship for repairs.”

“Understood Bunny. The rest of you, return to the shuttle. We have an Autobot to rescue.” At their confirmations, I spared another glance towards the rock, a heavy feeling coming over me. What if this was a trap? Sparing a glance around, I took the end of her gun and slammed it against the stone, grinning as a crack big enough to slip my hand through formed. Reaching in, I felt the piece of tech and used my cybernetic arm to pull it out, frowning at what I saw.

“Commander, everyone is accounted for except you.” Jag’s voice cut through my thoughts and made me jolt.

“Apologies. I got sidetracked for a second. ETA five minutes.”

——————————————————————————————————-

Putting on the Eco-Mask was the last thing I wanted to do, but the distressed spark signal was coming from the middle of the storm, so while Meerkat and Bunny stayed in the shuttle to contact the Knights, Llama and Jaguar followed me as we waded through all types of dead foilage, finally coming to a clearing. In the middle were two mechs, a cherry red one and a sunshine gold one. Baffled, my gun lowered for half a second as I searched for facial recognition. The red one came up as Sideswipe, who was last seen with silver armoring. Would that make the gold one his twin, Sunstreaker?

“You… you’re humans?” Sideswipe’s voice had me gripping the gun a bit more tightly, but I nodded. “Why are you here? Haven’t you done enough?” The pure desperation, sorrow and hate in his tone had my heart clenching and I took a deep breath before holstering my weapon, reaching up to unlatch the helm.

“Commander, we have no idea what the storm will do if you do that!” Llama hissed, having holstered his weapon as well. His voice was distorted, and it sounded… wrong. I didn’t want the mechs to think I was more of a threat than I really was.

Taking a deep breath, I undid the helm and took it off, feeling my hair fall from it’s bun. “Sideswipe, yes?” I asked, feeling my throat tingle as I had to raise it in order to cut through the storm. “I am the Dragon Commander. Earth is dead, killed by the Decepticons. We found a spark in distress, and with allies aboard our ship, we thought you might like it if we were able to stabilize your brother.”

“These allies, who are they?” He demanded, though there was a spark of hope in his optics. In reply, I heard Dragonstorm let out a roar, flying towards us with only one head. “Knights of Iacon? They’re real?”

“Real, and willing to aide you two. Their base is on our ship, as well as fresh energon and medical supplies.”

——————————————————————————————————-

“You’re an idiot, I hope you know that,”

I let out a little laugh at Scorpion’s words from the other side of Quarantine, well aware that while he meant it, he meant it lovingly. “Yeah, but I’m your idiot. I got Sideswipe and Sunstreaker safe and away from that Ion storm, so maybe they’ll help take us to Optimus.”

“Maybe,” he murmured, resting his head on the glass, and a half second later, I did the same thing. “I love you Annabelle.”

I felt a small smile show on my face as I stared at him intensely, trying to memorize the soft look on his face. “And I you, Robert.”

——————————————————————————————————-

By the time I was cleared to leave Quarantine, Sunstreaker had been treated and both were online and completely replenished with Energon. And yet… and yet…

It felt like a hallow victory as I stared at the report in front of me.

Estimated Earth Date August 23rd, 2010, 1239: Optimus Prime has been offlined. The Autobots are no more.

“Damnit…” I whispered, reading the report over and over again.

Optimus Prime has been offlined…

“Damnit…”

The Autobots are no more…

“DAMNIT ALL!”

——————————————————————————————————-

Robbie came back just in time for me to fall to my knees, our room thoroughly trashed. “Annabelle?” he gasped out, rushing forward. “What’s wrong?” I didn’t trust myself to say anything, so instead, I shakily held out the report, watching as his features grew grimmer and grimmer. “So what now? We go to Rhaki?”

“No,” I instantly shot down, grief and self-disappointment swimming in my head. “We go in search of the others. Ironhide, Ratchet, Jazz, they were part of the top command for the Autobots. We have to find them.”

“Annie,” he whispered. “Our mission failed. Rhaki is the only way.”

I stared at the report, hand going to the dogtags around my neck. “There’s always another choice,” I found myself saying quietly. “Have you ever wondered how Megatron was able to be revived? How Blackout and Barricade came back after we saw them offline with our own eyes?”

“I’d assume the Allspark,” he said quietly. “But as far as I know, there were only two shards left, and the Autobots left with one.”

“I think… I think it has something to do with The Fallen. A-according to the… the report, he came to Earth the same day that…” I trailed off, eyes shutting and fists clenching. “There’s something else going on, Robert. Something bigger that we’re not paying attention to.”

——————————————————————————————————-

Annabelle Lennox…

There was something in the air, something that made me walk closer towards the ever bright light.

Annabelle Lennox…

“I’m here,” I whispered, reaching forward. A warm sensation crawled up my arm, and I watched in fascination as white Cybertronian runes tattooed themselves onto my skin before fading away. In a brilliant flash, the light disappeared, showing a teenager I just barely remembered. “S-Sam? Sam Witwicky?”

“Annabelle Lennox, you have been chosen.” He offered his hand, with a sad sort of smile. “While I am not the Sam you know, I am a part of him, and before that, I was once a part of Optimus Prime.”

I furrowed my brows, mouthing the words back before I felt something… click almost. “You’re Primus. You’re what it means to be a Prime.”

“Yes, but no. I am only a part, a fraction of a whole. Fate changed her mind at the last second, when she should have kept steady, and because of this, I am no longer as I should be.”

“It wasn’t supposed to be like this,” I mumbled, feeling something churning my gut. “Why are you contacting me, a human, instead of one of your own?”

“You are the last hope of many, including me, Dear Child. You are right to believe that there is another way, but the path before you is dangerous, and lonely, as such is being the price of Prime.”

“So there’s a way to revive Optimus? Is there a way to bring back Earth and Cybertron?” I demanded, a small hope starting to bloom.

“No. Earth, even with a God’s blessing, would not survive for long, and to bring back my former body would begin a collapse in the core. I am sorry, truly, but those worlds must stay dead.”

I stared at his still outstretched hand, debating. “What does it mean, to be a Prime?” I finally asked, quietly.

“That, I’m afraid, is only something you can answer.” His response left me burning with more questions, but I took a deep breath.

“Will becoming the next Prime make it easier to find the rest of the Autobots?”

“Should you wish it, yes.”

With a tense nod, I put my hand with his and almost collapsed from the burning pain that coursed through me. Unable to stop my scream, I could faintly hear Robbie yelling for medics in the background. Finally, the pain stopped and I found myself on a stretcher, gazing at the ceiling.

It is done. Thank you, my child.

——————————————————————————————————-

If anyone said anything about me having to be wheeled out of my quarters, no one said it to my face, especially as I was able to direct the next jump towards another series of planets in this system, aiming towards one of the larger moons.

“Are you certain they’ll be here?” Robert asked during our lunch hour as I poked at the food, not very hungry. I closed my eyes and tugged on the golden thread that had appeared the night before, grinning slightly as I felt shock and amazement flow back.

“Yes, I’m certain.” I answered before forcing myself to take a bite. He got up from the table and I felt a sharp stabbing pain of doubt. “I love you, you know that, right?”

“Always. I love you too,” he replied with a blinding grin and kissing my nose. I could hear a few privates coo, and when I glanced over my shoulder, they quickly turned back to their meals, making me smile myself.

——————————————————————————————————-

The Autobots – Jazz, Ratchet, Ironhide, Bumblebee and a black and white mech I couldn’t identify – were waiting for us as we landed the ship itself, and I could feel their confusion and slight horror from the state of it. Ensuring that all Commanders and their XOs had our best Formal wear on, we were the first ones to march, ensuring that our hands were above our heads at all time. I was the last out alongside Scorpion, and as we came into view, I saw their panic turn into anger.

“You have younglings in command?” Ratchet sounded aghast and I forced myself not to give myself away then and there, though it probably didn’t help that my command circlet was bigger, brighter than the others.

“Going by their helm adornments, the last two are in charge of the ship as a whole, while the others are subsystems.” I saw the others tense up, most likely wanting to look back at me for a reaction. Instead, I forced myself to stay calm as those not in Cryo slowly started to step back onto land for the first time in years, eyes wide with wonder and a hint of fear as they milled around the ship. Deciding it best to keep space between them, the ‘Bots led us away and allowed us to lower our arms, where I had to listen to Grizzly and Ironhide bicker about what to do with the other.

Jesus fucking Christ what the hell is wrong with him?

I glanced around at the adults desperately trying to keep the children away from the conversation that was happening in front of them. “For God’s sake, this isn’t getting us anywhere,” I snapped, pushing passed the others to stand in front of the Autobots.

“Draco!” Grizzly snapped, but I ignored him.

“Either you agree to help us or not. We were wrong to do everything we did against you, and now we’re suffering for it. Earth is dead and the Decepticons are on their way here. Either you help us, or you watch the last of our species die in front of you.”

“Bold words for a human,” the black mech snorted. “What’s your name?”

“My mama raised me to take no shit, and I’m Annabelle.” I saw something flash in their optics as a toothy grin began to show on my face. “Annabelle Lennox.”

#The Oracle Prime Legacy #We Were Wrong #Transformers #Bayverse #Transformers Bayverse #Annabelle Lennox #Annabelle #Annabelle (Bayverse)#Original Characters #Ratchet #Ironhide #Prowl #Sideswipe #Sunstreaker #Jazz #Bumblebee #Primus as Sam Witwicky #maccadam

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dammitadolfnomorecake · 4 years

Text

CSUAPR PRT 62 UPDATE

It was now the end of January and Lance wasn’t sure he’d slept during the last month, or simply passed out due to the lack of sleep. He wasn’t sure that counted as actual sleep, nor was he sure how time had managed to move so quiznakking fast. Christmas had come and passed in a sleepy haze, a forced trip to Earth at his mother’s “request”. He’d been so excited to spend his first Christmas with their boys. He thought the twins would be mesmerised by the lights of the Christmas tree. Laith had wanted nothing to do with the tree, while Hunter scrunched up his face at like he’d been personally insulted by the softly twinkling lights. Hunter also hadn’t liked meeting Veronica, Laith unable to secure his position as favourite twin with her by peeing straight on her face as she tried to change his nappy. Axca had been great with them, even if they both started crying the instant they’d been placed in her hold. Uncle Curtis copped a face full of vomit when he’d taken Hunter straight after his feed, and Shiro had been kicked to the sofa for laughing too hard at his boyfriend. Marco also received no love from the boys, Hunter being exceptionally cranky and grizzly, which was later explained by the fact he was cutting his first tooth. Keith was a mess over said tooth, his exhaustion manifesting in tears as he felt his son was far too young for such things, despite Mami assuring him that babies could cut teeth at any age, and that some were even born with teeth. Most of their Christmas Day was spent snoring on the sofa, both he and Keith slumped back and snoring their heads off as Mami chased away the rest of the family. As Keith had explained, most of his memory issues did seem to come from the medication. On the nights that he’d actually managed to get the boys down, for all 10 minutes before one would start crying and set his brother off, he watched video after video of his family life in the early days. Cuba had slipped from his mind almost entirely, watching Keith interact with his family were his favourite videos. He must have watched his abuela steal a kiss from his clueless husband a hundred times. The way her eyes twinkled with mischief as she laughed out how handsome Keith was. The look on Keith’s face was priceless, the blush and cluelessness. The shock of what had happened, then the groaning came as his comms translated what his abuela was saying. That was his favourite memory, and his go to video each time he found his arms full with one crying boy, or both. Keith was a fantastic father to the boys, and a fantastic partner to him. Even when they were exhausted to the point of snapping at each other, his husband had made a point of making sure each time they climbed into bed, he’d always tell him he loved him. They didn’t mean to snipe at each other, but damn if the boys weren’t a handful, and double damn if there weren’t quintants that absolutely kicked Lance’s arse, leaving him sobbing at the fact sometimes he wanted to shake his boys until they stopped crying. The guilt festered painfully, he’d never actually shake his boys, but when his heart was broken over and over by his sons’ distress... he didn’t understand how to fix it. Marco tried to help the best he could, yet his brother was better off running the front bar in Lance’s stead. All of the regulars had met the boys, but it was hardly the kind of place you’d let the boys sleep behind the bar. The first few weeks seemed like a dream where they’d sleep for the most part, only crying when hungry or needing a feed. That wasn’t to say the sleepless nights weren’t worth every moment of drooly, happy, wide eyed curiosity and cuddles. Lance loved cuddle time, and he’s sleep with the boys in his arms if he could, but he and Keith had decided given the fact they both suffered nightmares the best thing at night would be for the boys to sleep in their own room, not that always happened. Sometimes they’d fall asleep cradling their boys, sitting upright on their bed as they were both too tired to walk the dozen or so metres to the nursery. Having kissed Keith goodbye, Lance was now laying in bed pretending he wasn’t already missing his husband despite the fact Keith had barely been gone for half a varga. Though they’d both been invited to Hunk’s bucks party, and although Hunk had totally wanted to turn his bucks party into a child friendly affair, Lance had insisted he’d be fine watching the boys for the night so Keith could have some fun. Dios knew his husband needed it. The both really needed a break, but Lance figured Keith needed it more. His husband was being so fantastic about everything from making sure Lance kept to a schedule with his medication. Keith was also talking to his councillor almost as regularly as Lance was. Once a phoebe they were scheduled for couples counselling, with Lance having fortnightly appointments around that, provided he could string more than two words together, and provided he could speak to his counsellor alone. Keith had copped more than his fair share of a panicked Lance, that was exactly why he deserved the overnight trip away. With Shiro’s help, Lance had contributed to the bar tab for the night, both Shiro and Curtis coming to collect a reluctant Keith, and a not so reluctant Marco. Lucteal wasn’t sure why he was being dragged along but Lance felt it’d be good for him. Curtis had wanted to stay once he realised they weren’t just taking Keith with them, though part of him wanted to take Curtis up on the offer as he missed his company, saddling Curtis with two grumpy twins seemed like somewhat cruel. Plus, he kind of maybe wanted to try being alone. Now he was regretting his decision, as he laid in the bed that was far too big for him alone. Keith’s pillows had been pulled into his hold, his husband’s scent as calming as it’d always been. The twins were asleep, having cried themselves out for now, leaving him not quite able to do on the off chance the moment of peace would be broken. Laith had started getting cranky, combined with drooling more, Lance suspecting that his boy would be cutting a tooth rather soon. It amazed him how fast they were growing up. Just as it amazed him that Kosmo had finally accepted his role as big brother. If they fell asleep holding the boys, his fur son would curl up on the end of the bed as if to guard them. He’d also taken to sleeping in the nursery more and more, instead of being in bed next to Lance for extra cuddles. Just as Lance’s eyes were starting to close, there came a soft knock on his door. His five tick warning before it slid open with a slight grate. With the choices limited, he didn’t bother mustering the strength to fight the need to sleep, knowing it had to be Daehra who was walking across the hazard they called a “bedroom”. Clothes and soft toys now lay across their room in semi sorted bundles. Never on the floor, but always on top of crates which meant stubbed toes if one wasn’t paying attention. When the bed dipped slightly, Lance groaned out a greeting, Daehra laughing softly as his lack of enthusiasm “Don’t worry, I won’t take long. I wanted to check in with you, but I see you’re about to fall asleep”“What gave you that idea?”“The fact you’re exhausted”Yep. She didn’t need to be an empath to know that“Mmmm... the boys went down for a nap”“I wonder how long it’ll be for”“Don’t jinx it... is something up?”“No, no. Just checking in on you. Tobias wanted to know if you want dinner delivered tonight”Ugh. Food was the last thing he wanted. Zero offence to Tobias seeing he’d made a huge effort to pursue his culinary dream, but the thought of sitting up and eating was too much like not sleeping “Not tonight... I wanna sleep”“You still need to eat”Typical Daehra, always the mother hen“I will... but first I’ve got a date with some serious sleep”“Do you want me to watch the twins tonight?”“Nah... the monitors on... I’ll hear them if they need me”“Lance, you know you can rely on us... I know you and Keith take being parents seriously, but you do know you can ask for help?”Marco, Daehra and Lucteal all stepped up when it came to caring for the twins. Keith and Lance did the lion’s share, but more than once their friends had stepped in when the boys had been crying for what seemed like days. Reaching out his hand and somewhat pathetically patting around until he found Daehra’s, Lance gave it the best squeeze he could“I know, and Keith and I couldn’t be more grateful for you guys. You’re family, Dae. I trust you. I’m just going to get a few vargas sleep in, then see how I’m feeling. If anything happens in the bar, wake me up. I don’t want you to feel you have to carry the slack”Daehra squeezed his hand softly, before leaning over and pressing a motherly kiss to his forehead“Alright. Get some sleep, and I’ll see you later”“Yeah... thanks, Dae” Swaddled up his blankets sleep should have come easily. He was laying down, he was warm and didn’t need to get up to pee. The boys were being quite, the soft tinkering music from the mobile Hunk had made cake through softly on the baby monitor. Keith’s scent was everywhere... So everything was prepared to do the sleep, but it wasn’t happening. Lance had tried tossing and turning. The lights were off, with simply a sliver of light coming from under the bathroom door. Every condition had been met for doing the sleep. Yet the sleep wouldn’t do the cooperate. Lance’s eyes felt as if they had all sand of Daehra’s home planet poured into them as forced them open. As stubborn as he was, he refused to admit that sleep wouldn’t come because Keith wasn’t there. How much he missed his husband shouldn’t matter when he precious few vargas in which to sleep. Keith would want him to rest, he’d be ecstatic at the idea of Lance getting more than a few vargas for feeding. But Keith wasn’t there and he missed him. Attempting to sleep alone simply wasn’t going to work. His bed was far too big. Far too big and Keithless. Dragging the top blanket of his pile with him, Lance felt like a child sneaking off to climb into his parents‘ beds... only, it was reversed. He was the parent sneaking into his sons’ room feeling 6 inches tall as he did. The nursing chair and the nursery was ridiculously padded, a splurge gift from an overly doting Uncle Curtis. Dressed in a shimmering purple, Curtis had said it reminded him of the twins’ eyes. Shiro had “tried” to stop him, but the other man was just as bad as his partner. Completely incapable of saying no. Little did they know of the babysitting Lance had planned for them once they were back on Earth and somewhat functional adults again. If the Galra had made taking care of screaming, teething infants... well... they would have taken over the universe a hell of a lot easier. Narrowly avoiding tripping over Kosmo, Lance shuffled over to the crib the twins shared. Maybe it was after sharing a womb for 10ish months, but they seemed happier when they shared a crib. His boys looked almost angelic, Laith fast asleep as Hunter stared up at the lions circling his head“Hello my handsome little men... Hello, Hunter, you’re not going to scream for daddy if he picks you up, are you?”Seeing Hunter was awake, he may as well try feeding him. Both his sons were total gluttons, but lately Hunter’s tooth had started irritating the soft skin of Lance’s nipple. Lance wanted to breast feed them as long as possible but Galra teeth were sharp as quiznak. Keith wouldn’t be complaining if Lance was to get his nipple pierced, yet Lance had the feeling Keith would prefer it done by a professional and not their infant son. With Hunter in his arms, Lance settled down in the nursing chair. His son grabbing for the top of his loose shirt, like little hungry little womb monster he was“Dios. Between you, your brother, and your daddy, my boobs are never going to know a days peace. I’m going to remember this. You’re going to regret this abuse on your 18th”Slipping his shirt up, Lance slid down in the chair as he settled Hunter against his breast. The half-Cuban’s nose twitched in pain as Hunter latched, Lance sighing softly as his head lolled back against the chair. Yep. Parenting. Dios. This chair was far too comfortable for an exhausted daddy. *Falling asleep in the nursery, Lance was woken by a loud thump. Followed by a second thump, some faint yelling and a scolding voice. Barking loudly, Kosmo disturbed the silence of the boys. Shifting Hunter to his shoulder, Lance groaned as he shifted, legs tangling slightly in the blanket as he tried to “hurry”. Whatever going on out there, the twins were safer in their nursery. Laying Hunter with his brother, Lance headed out to the hall, stopped short by the sight. Keith was clutching the doorframe to their bedroom. The buttons were torn from Shiro’s shirt, leaving his dress shirt gaping open. Curtis was wearing a set over sized pink sunglasses and matching feather boa. For a Buck’s party happening on Earth, the three idiots in front of him were definitely not where they were supposed to be. “What the quiznak are you doing?!”Whisper yelling, Lance hoped he showed parental annoyance instead of plain ordinary annoyance“Lance!”Letting go of the doorframe, Keith fell into their bedroom, Shiro going with him. Giggling, Curtis went after his boyfriend's flailing arm“Shhhh! Shhhh... Don’t wake the babies...”“Lance! Lemme see Laaaaaaance!”Lance wished he could smack his head against the closest wall. Keith was drunk and yelling... Lance wouldn’t have a problem with it, if his husband hadn’t decided to bring his drunk arse home. Pulling Shiro up, Shiro in turn pulled Keith up, both men knocking against Curtis“Lance! Laaaance!”Making a move towards him, Curtis caught keith by the shirt collar“Shhh... Keith, you gotta be quieter. Lance... Lance, sorry. Sorry. We had to bring him back hoooome”That was obvious by the fact they were in the outpost. Scrubbing at his tired face with his left hand, Lance held his right arm open for Keith, who nearly fell over again as Curtis released his shirt. Striding over to him, Keith buried his face against Lance’s neck“Mmmm... I missssssed you!”“Mmmm... you’re drunk”“Mmmm... why are you “mmmming”?”“I don’t know. Maybe because you’re drunk. Let’s get you to bed, then “Dumb Dad One” and “Dumb Dad Two” can explain why the quiznak you’re here and not getting lap dances on Earth” Manhandling a grabby Keith into their bed, Lance tucked him in. Throwing himself down behind his brother, Shiro landed face first, Curtis shaking his head at the pair of them. Moving to Keith’s feet, Lance started fumbling at his boot laces. Their sheets were going to need a quadruple wash to get all the glitter off... pink glitter and what smelt like really cheap tequila“Lance, I’m sorry! I know we were supposed to keep him”“What happened?”Curtis started counting it off on his fingers“He got drunk. A stripper tried to give him a lap dance because Hunk was too flustered. Keith burst into tears and ran out the club. We found him sitting on the curb. He wouldn’t stop crying because you weren’t there. That turned to how proud of our boys he is. Hunk and the others came out the club. Hunk let Keith talk about the twins until he finally got up off the curb. He and Hunk cuddled until the next club. We lost Lucteal. He found Lucteal. Then we lost Matt. Keith found Matt. Then Keith started crying again and Shiro ripped his shirt open. Oh... oh... then Hunk threw up. Right across the bar... They kicked us out for that! Oh! Oh! Lucteal stabbed a poker machine!”Oh, Dios... It was everything a Buck’s party was supposed to be... They hadn’t even made it off world by the sound of it“You had a fun... time?” “Laaaaaance! Cuuuuuddle me!”“Curtis... I want cuddles tooooooo”Shiro went to cuddle Keith, Keith smacking him off before trying to get up“I don’t want you! I want my huuuusband!”“You can keep your husband! I’m gay!”“I’m gay, too!”“Ok. That’s enough. You’re both beautiful gay idiots. Curtis, you can crash next to Shiro. Keith, you can stay put. I need to check the boys”Keith whined at him, kicking his legs as he did. His hand making grabby motions towards him“Why can’t I get up?”Ooooh, Lord. He didn’t deserve this... The twins were probably still crying... and his head was aching from this lack of sleep thing“Babe, I promise you can cuddle me in a couple of ticks. Just be a good boy and wait”“I don’t wanna wait... I wanna cuddles my husband!”“Ok, let’s play a game. You count to 500 then you can cuddle me all night long”“I don’t know how to count”Nope... a drunk and pouty Keith was not going to win him over. The boys had to come first. Even drunk, Keith could rustle up a brain cell. Or maybe the three idiots in his bed could rustle up one to share“Then work it out” Both twins were crying. Laith needed his midnight feed, Hunter needed a nappy change... then Laith needed a nappy change. Kosmo had taken up his spot on the nursing chair, the blanket pathetically laying in a strip over his side. Settling all three of his children down, Lance was sorely tempted to throw himself down on his bed, with the other three children in his care. Curtis’s feather boa had ended up in Keith’s hold. Shiro was still face down, both he and Curtis still had their boots on. The sliver of bed left to him was barely big enough to fit, and the bed that’d been far too big was now too small. That wasn’t going to stop him from trying. Keith’s arms were where he belonged, and damn if he hadn’t been practically going through the motions without him. Pulling off Shiro and Curtis’s boots, Lance set them neatly by Keith’s at the end of the bed, before wrestling the stupid boa out of Keith’s hold and claiming his spot back. Sneaking an arm around his waist, Keith nosed at his neck“... fucking love you... fucking perfect fucker... gonna fucking love the fuck out of you...”Drunk Keith was no good for his heart. He was too tired to laugh, but fuck if it didn’t make him feel all warm and fuzzy inside“I love you too, Mullet” When Lance woke late in the day, he found Keith sitting quietly on the bed with their boys. Wriggling closer to his family, Keith smiled softly at him as Lance rubbed his cheek against Keith’s knee. His hand warm as he brushed Lance’s hair back. Yawning, Lance nuzzled into the touch. A morning without being woken by crying... this had to be a dream“Hey, you”“Hey... How’s the head?”Keith ducked his head in guilt. For being a drunk fool, his husband didn’t look completely terrible. Maybe a little green around the edges, yet he still looked unfairly gorgeous “Better than Shiro. I hope we weren’t too... full on” Lance couldn’t remember waking this refreshed since the previous year “It’s fine... How long have you been awake?”“Long enough... I figured you needed the sleep. Especially after we crashed your quiet night in”A little white lie wouldn’t hurt. Keith didn’t need to know he missed him just as much as his sap of a his husband had missed him“My night was fine. Quiet... the boys actually slept for a little while. I missed you though. The bed felt too big”Keith sighed softly, shifting his gaze from Lance to their boys “I missed you too... I drank too much too fast. I felt guilty that you weren’t there, and I’m pretty sure I cried on Hunk’s shoulder”Kissing Keith’s knee, Lance hummed. From what Curtis had said, their night had been eventful “Babe, you were supposed to have fun. I’m happy you went out. I’m happy you hang out with the guys. You guys weren’t even that bad when you got home. You did wake the boys up, but all in all, things could have been worse”“We woke the boys? Shit, babe...”Lance kissed Keith’s knee again“Which you made up for by letting me have an awesome sleep in. I can’t remember the last time I slept this long”“You needed it. I still wish you were there last night. I feel like Marco tried to tape himself to a power pole... He kept saying he was “The Brightest Spark in the Universe”... Oh... Dios... Hunk lost his shirt at some point... Oh, god... Babe... I think... I think Hunk was singing karaoke with Matt... I think that’s when he lost his shirt...” Lance wouldn’t admit he was jealous as quiznak over being on the outside of it all. Not when he’d volunteered himself to stay home. Still, he was. He knew it was part of his abandonment issues, and also knew that if he’d been there last night it would have hindered his mental health. He wasn’t doing great there, with large crowds likely to do his head in completely “As long as you guys had a good time, that’s all that matters. Hunk’s getting married next week. Pidge went to Shay’s party, and she said Shay did body shots off the weirdest, and hairiest, stripper she’s ever seen in her life. They both had a good time, with plenty of time to recover afterwards”Shay’s party had been a few days prior. Lance had been invited to Shay’s as well, but Laith felt warm, and Lance felt dead. Shay had reached out shortly before Christmas to ask about chair cover colours as she wasn’t sure she wanted to go with golden yellow and white alone. Now the chair covers were going to be jewel tones to match the Lions, with deep purple instead of Black. Not being native to Earth, the sheer range of colours confused her. Seeing the boys had been sleeping better than they were now, he’d had time to send the hotel where the wedding would be held a quick email about decorating options. The decorations for large scale events was carried out by a contracted firm, who then copped a very long list of questions over their options. Seeing Hunk and Shay had booked phoebs earlier the package was mostly settled, only needing a few tiny tweaks to keep Shay happy. There’d been no update on Shay’s appointments, so Lance hadn’t pushed for details. It wasn’t his place to, not when he didn’t know what was going on. Shay would have been heart broken if she wasn’t able to conceive and knowing more than a few people with the same problem, he knew how devastating a question could be. Ruffling his hair, Keith was far too beautiful for Lance to keep his eyes open. The fact he felt so warm and safe wasn’t helping either. Nothing felt better than his family being altogether, while nothing in bed felt better than Keith’s presence there“You’re still sleepy?”“A bit... You need sleep too. I’ll swap shifts with you”“Nah, it’s fine. Daehra gave me some more gel for their gums. They were crying earlier, but they’ve settled now”Mmm, Lance had been wondering why their devil twins were being so quiet. Keith was so good with them. Some days it was easy to believe that he wasn’t needed for anything other than his milk, which easily could have been swapped for formula“I bet Shiro loved that”“He and Curtis are hung over as quiznak. Daehra put them both on drips”“Oh how the tides have turned”“Hmmm?”“Remember when we got drunk on the Atlas and tried to sneak to bed? Now they’re drunk idiots and I’m the sober one”Keith laughed softly“I have no idea where the glasses and pink thing came from. Matt said tequila shots and it went from there”“I can imagine. Are you sure you’ve got them? I don’t want to nap if you’re pushing yourself”“You’ve been pushing yourself too”“Not as much as you have”Keith rolled his eyes with a fake huff, turning his gaze back to Lance as he did. Lance didn’t need to have his eyes open to know that’s exactly what happened. He knew his husband far too well“Babe, you literally gave birth. Last night you stayed home with them so I could go out. Let yourself rest. We’ve got the extra milk in the fridge, you’re exhausted, and you need to sleep. Can you imagine how much Mami is going to scold me if I let you turn up in Cuba next week with bags under your eyes?” They were stopping by in Cuba to pick Mami up for Hunk and Shay’s wedding in a couple of days time. They’d be spending the night in Cuba, then two days in Hawaii before the ceremony. Hunk and Shay had set up a gift registry, with the help of Pidge, that Lance had gone a little crazy for. Having more money than his family, even without working he still received a share of the outpost profits, he’d made sure to shop for Veronica, Rachel, Luis and Lisa, both his parents, Marco, Daehra, Lucteal, the twins, and then Keith and himself. It wasn’t like they were overly dear items. Hunk and Shay had their “on Earth” housing that needed some basic things. “Mami wouldn’t scold you. She’s had 5 kids remember, plus my family is huge. She’d mother us both up to sleep then watch the boys”“So it’d be like Christmas all over again”“Pretty mu-u-u-uch...”Yawning widely, Lance pulled his blankets tighter. Dios... sleep... he wanted sleep. Borderline drifting off, he was sure it’d only take a half tick more... only one boy started crying and in that half tick, he set his brother off. His sons were definitely torturing him... and they were definitely going to feel his revenge at their at 18th birthday party. Pushing back the blankets enough to sit up, Lance groaned as he head butted Keith’s shoulder“I’ll take Hunter, you take Laith”“Babe...”Of course Keith started to object, his husband was such a loveable idiot“It’s fine... we got into this together, we can deal with this together”Keith kissed his hair, yep, definitely a loveable idiot“Yeah... We can also get out of this together by putting two very sad and sorry uncles to work”Lance gave soft snort, before kissing Keith’s arm. He wasn’t about to simply pass his unhappy boys off, neither would Keith. Their welfare always came before the desire to sleep“Feed. Nappies. Cuddles. Then uncle duty?”Cuddles with Keith sounded amazing. Especially now he could spoon up around his husband again. He loved it. The way Keith moulded against his body as their fingers intertwined“Sounds like a plan” *Leaning on the balcony of their room, Lance sipped his mocktail as he watched the waves gently roll back and forth against the yellow sands. There really wasn’t anywhere out there quite like Earth. The hotel they were staying at was a stones throw from the beach, waking up to the sounds of crying gulls and the smell of salt in the air, kind of felt a little bit like waking up in heaven. With everyone else at the wedding rehearsal, Lance had volunteered Keith for a few last minute errands. His husband had been acting weird since they’d left Cuba, almost as if he had too much energy and no idea where to channel it. Their room was spacious, three bedrooms with a small kitchenette in the living area. The walls were a crisp white, the room accented with wood furniture and bright tropical colours, but so far Lance liked the balcony best. It gave him a space to think alone. Mami was taking a nap with the boys, fussing like there was no tomorrow over all the small things. Their suits were hung in the closet, Keith’s sporting a freshly reattached button. The boys had their own small suits, consisting of black pants and white formal shirts. The weather was far too hot for the jacket aspect, but that hadn’t stopped his Mami. The only thing that would have was if it’d been a beach wedding, and not being held in the function room on the ground floor. Draining the last of his drink, Lance closed his eyes, letting the sun soak into his bronzed skin. He loved his outpost, but this, this what he missed. He missed Earth. Three more months and they’d be moving there... for better or for worse, time only knew. Behind him the glass door to the balcony slid open, had it been his Mami she would have been talking before the door was fully open. Coming up behind him, warm arms wrapped around his waist, Keith’s chin resting on his shoulder“Hey, baby. Enjoying the sun?”Humming, Lance titled his head against Keith’s “Yeah. It’s nice here. I thought you were running errands?”“I was. I am. I may be hiding... We’ll never know”“Shiro still trying to micro manage everyone?”“Coran. He keeps reminiscing over Alfor’s wedding with anyone who walks too close to him”Yep. That sounded about right. The man was a proud mess. Hunk had tried to politely tell him not to worry about coming early like everyone else, but Coran was always one to “lend a hand”“Mami’s got the boys under control. I’m just enjoying the sun... I don’t think there’s much to do here”Having time to think was nice. Having too much time to think was not. A nap in the sun sounded amazing“Are you trying to kick me out?” Turning in Keith’s hold, Lance placed his glass on down on the table near the railing, before cupping his husband’s cheeks“No. But I’m not getting in trouble for hiding a wayward errand boy”Pouting, Keith failed due to smile“Hey, I’m not an errand boy”“You are today”“That’s nice. Is this what happens when I leave you alone too long?”“Yep... This daddy is enjoying his vacation”Leaning in, Keith kissed him gently, resting his forehead against Lance’s, lips brushing as his as he spoke“I’m happy you’re enjoying yourself”“Mmm. It’s nice to relax. The boys are safe with Mami, and the view here is kind of incredible. It’s nice to just stand out here and think”“Should I be worried what you’re thinking about?”“Not him, I promise” Him was Krystaal. Being on Earth, where your sworn enemy was, kind of felt like asking for trouble. Krystaal had been there for over two months now, and yet to be any trouble as far as Lance knew. He wasn’t sure why this picturesque place made him think of him, maybe because he had to wonder if Krystaal was the reason Keith was acting strange“Good. We talked about this, babe”They had and they did. Lance knew all too well the messy entanglements of love. He also knew pride and honour meant more than life to most Galra. Krystaal was truly going to need to be a changed man if he ever hoped to rise back through the ranks in the Blades“I know... you’ve just been acting strange since we got here, so I couldn’t help but wonder if you were thinking about him too”Keith tensed for a fraction of tick before shaking his head“No, babe. I’m not. I didn’t mean to be strange, I just have no idea about weddings”That thought had crossed Lance’s mind too“I know you don’t, but I promise whatever nerves we’re feeling, Hunk is feeling them a million times worse right now”Keith hummed, kissing him gently again“I wonder if he wished he eloped. We kind of did”“We were tricked by a scheming princess, babe. It’s not quite the same thing”“That’s true. As long as you’re ok, that’s the main thing”“Ok” was a loose interpretation of Lance’s feelings. He was praying to anyone who’d listen that the twins wouldn’t be too disruptive during the ceremony. His anxiety was leaving him with the urge to scratch when it came to the thought of how many people there’d be there tomorrow, but he was ok. He was safe. They were kind of on their first family holiday, the farm didn’t really count because that was their third home, and now he knew Keith wasn’t thinking of the past he could enjoy the sun all that more“Yeah, I’m ok. Just wondering how long of a nap I can get in while the sun’s still up”“You have a few more hours. I can take over watching the boys, if you Mami maybe want to pamper yourself at the day spa”“Nah, I’m fine. I’d rather be out here in the fresh air. Besides, Mr Errand Boy, you’re going to get me in trouble if you shirk your duties” Groaning, Keith moved to drop his forehead against Lance’s shoulder“I don’t know if I have the strength. I wanna stay here with you”Warmth blossomed throughout Lance’s body. He could hear those words a million times and still be left all “warm and glowy” from them“That’s not playing fair”“Is it working?”“Far too well. How many jobs do you have?”“I need to pick up the new name cards from the printers and check in with Pidge over the audio visual system. Shiro wants me to check the bar tab is all set up. Curtis spilt something on his suit so I need to pick up from the dry cleaners... all while avoiding Coran”Pidge was snappy too. Because Hunk expected perfection, and with both of them if a technical mind, they both had different ideas on how things should run“My poor husband. Why do we need new name cards?”“There were a few names spelled wrong. Hunk actually yelled at the poor guy on the other end of the phone”Lance cringed, sympathising with the poor printer. The yelling had started at breakfast, Lance unable to escape politely until the boys started crying“Make sure you apologise for him... He’s turned into “Groom-zilla””“I noticed that. I’m glad our wedding wasn’t this stressful. I think I would have been hiding under our bed if it’d been”Lance could see it. Shiro would be stressing himself sick, pacing around the bed while he and Keith kept their hands over their mouths in an attempt not to be found“I would have been right there with you”Kissing Keith’s hair, Lance didn’t want to let him go again. There were two sun lounges on the balcony, plenty of space for them both to be napping“I know... want to come be there with me, now?”Oh no... He was wavering... Exploring their surrounds was starting to sound more interesting than waiting for the boys to wake up for their feed“How do you propose we do that? I can’t promise I won’t start crying if Hunk gets cranky”“I’m not going to make you come if you don’t want to. I’m being selfish... I missed you all morning”Damnit... his nap... his resolve... his hand made and delivered tropical mocktails... The only reason he was feeling refreshed was because of his mother. She’d taken one look at them on her doorstep then sent them to bed“I know, but when you ask me like this, I don’t know if I can say no... Even at the cost of that nap. I supposed I could climb down the drainpipe...”Their room was on the second floor of the hotel. The place unfortunately lacking convenient air vents“We could take the stairs and hope for the best? You know, like normal people?”“And run the risk? Do you want more errands? Because I feel like this is how you get more errands”Lifting his head, Keith pulled a face“I don’t want more errands... I keep getting directionally misplaced”Lance now had the feeling his husband had spent more of the day lost than actually helping with the wedding. They’d come this far and he wasn’t going to let Keith depressed over being continuously lost or thinking he was letting everyone down because he was terrible with directions“Let me tell Mami I’m going with you, then we’ll climb down from here”“I’ll climb first... I could probably catch you if you jumped...”“That’s a stupid plan. I’m not taking you to Hunk’s wedding with a broken arm, and I’m not even going to try explaining that to Shiro either. No. You wait here, and I’ll be right back” Keith didn’t land his landing coming off the drainpipe. Landing on his hands and knees, his husband groaned, dropping down and rolling over to raise his slightly skinned hands. It wasn’t a great start to their adventure. Taking his idiot husband by the hands, Lance pulled him to his feet“What part of “Don’t get hurt”, didn’t you understand?”“Air vents are easier”“Of course they are. We won’t be climbing up the same way we got down”They’d slightly bent the down-pipe with their boots, the ancient screws in the brackets hadn’t appreciated their weight. Keith weighed a ton with his muscle weight, while Lance was still sporting belly fat from his pregnancy. He missed his smooth toned stomach, so proud of his body, but it was nice to be able to see his feet again and Keith never forced him to show his body to him knowing he was uncomfortable“I’ll find a way to smuggle you back up to your balcony”“So romantic. My Prince Charming with skinned palms. You wouldn’t have this problem if you were wearing your gloves”“I had to wash them...”Probably thanks to a changing mishap with one of their boys“Sounds about right. I could have grabbed you a pair of mine if you’d said. Now, where do we need to go first?”Keith sighed dramatically, the half-Galra had been picking up far too many of his mannerisms, and they were doing some major things to his heart. He loved his idiot so quiznakking much that he wouldn’t be surprised if Keith could see the hearts in his eyes“Name tags first. It’s the furthest from here. That way we won’t have to carry everything else with us”“Smart thinking. Let’s go before they catch us” Enjoying spending their time exploring, they talked as they walked. Lance felt naked without their boys with them, yet it was kind of nice to pretend their lives weren’t organised chaos. Holding hands, Lance covertly led Keith through the streets as they followed the directions coming from Keith’s comms. Hawaii was nothing like Keith’s shack in the desert. People and colour were everywhere they looked, meaning it was impossible to keep a low profile. Repeatedly strangers came up to congratulate them, repeatedly people threw them dirty looks, and repeatedly Lance resisted the urge to bolt back to the hotel because he was enjoying holding his husband’s hand like this. Catching his yo-yoing moods, Keith nudged him with his hip “Want to talk about it?”Letting Keith tug him close, they moved to his husband wrapping his arm around his waist to hold him close“No... it’s mostly anxiety”“Too many people?”Waaay too many“Just a few. We’re pretty isolated at the outpost”“That we are. I forget how famous we are”“That and you’re hot as hell”Keith nudged him with his hip again“I’m not that hot. Seriously, if this is getting too much, we can find a shortcut back”Ha! Damn, he wished he’d recorded Keith admitting he thought he was hot. Scolding him, there was no way they were deviating from the GPS route“Babe, your shortcuts were what you got you lost to begin with”“It was the GPS, not me. I think Pidge hacked it or something”“Now you’re being paranoid”Hunk was already a great big anger muffin that their resident Gremlin wasn’t about to prod into exploding“It’s not paranoia if someone is out to get you”As Lance’s stomach dropped, Keith swore softly over what he’d said. Pulling him into a proper hug, his husband kissed his hair “Sorry. Sorry, that was stupid of me. He’s not going to lay a finger on you”“I know he won’t. I trust Krolia’s judgment in his punishment”“I know you do, babe. I should have thought about what I was going to say”“No. It’s fine. I mean, you’re joking. I know you’re joking” Keith was, and Lance did trust in Krolia’s judgement. Initially he was pissed, Krolia’s name was banned for a good two movements until he had time to think. He wasn’t sure that he didn’t want Krystaal to die for what he’d done, but Keith would grieve the loss of his one time friend, meaning he’d never be able to put the trauma behind him. There’d be a dark and angry stain on Keith’s heart that Lance refused to allow. They’d talked about the conversation while he’d still be in hospital. Unfortunately, and annoyingly, Lance could see how Krystaal had fallen in love with Keith. After all, he’d warned his dumb arse husband repeatedly over the way Krystaal felt, and as with most Galra, Krystaal probably never had those close family binds. He’d been dragged up through a cruel military based system that Keith had helped over turn. If it wasn’t for the fact Lance didn’t particularly care to ever see him again, he’d pay good GAC to watch Krystaal humble himself around other humans. The race that were perfectly fine existing, as long as they weren’t married to the most human looking of all Galra. Krolia had placed safety measures in place, Krystaal was getting therapy, he’d be forced to work for his forgiveness... yep, that was the end of it. Lance was hardly in the position to deny anyone a second chance, not with the shit he’d pulled. He didn’t feel threatened by Krystaal, not anymore. He didn’t even feel threatened by Krystaal’s love for Keith. He just felt pity. Nuzzling into his husband, Lance closed his eyes. No one was out to get them now. Taking a few deep breaths, Lance clutched at Keith shirt, blocking out the world as he enjoyed the feel of the man he loved“I’m alright. I’m ok... We’ve already picked up the guest cards... Do you want to get something to eat?”“Yeah, babe. That sounds good”Lance could hear Keith’s concern, he supposed his scent was all over the place, just like Keith’s was laced with worry. Quiznak, he loved this man. Their lunch date was interrupted. Picking a cafe closer to the hotel, they really should have expected their little bit of stolen peace to be broken. Sharing a platter of mixed tapas, most of the meal had been picked away as they played footsies under the table, disgustingly in love. Lance was nearly dying from Keith’s questioning of what they were eating and his running commentary over how it fared when compared to Mami and Hunk’s culinary skills. Coran had sent himself off on an errand to find the missing Keith, only to have gotten himself lost a few short streets away from the hotel. Coran was so flustered that he very nearly burst into tears as he raced towards them, before crushing Lance in a far too tight embrace. Anxious over Curtis’s suit, Lance handed over the guest cards and kissed his husband goodbye for the next few hours as Coran needed a babysitter more than his husband did. Keith off to collect Curtis’s suit, while Lance set off back to the hotel with Coran. Coran was trying his hardest, he really was, but he was just as bad as Lance when it came to functions. Everything had to be perfect, despite the fact that one couldn’t control the actions of others. Apologising profusely for his state, their strange Space Uncle had slipped back into reminiscing over Alfor’s wedding by the time they reached the hotel. Caught up in his story telling, Lance ushered him through the hotel and into the elevator, performing a community service by kidnapping Coran up to their hotel room to gush over the twins. He’d missed his boys, he wished they’d come with him and Keith as they’d explored. There was a whole world out there for them to see, for them to explore. Lance wanted to make as many memories with his boys as possible. He wanted to show them every single wonder of what made Earth extraordinary, despite how tiny they were. Mami was pacing with both boys on her shoulders, Laith and Hunter serenading her unhappily. Jogging the few steps to his Mami, Lance dropped kisses on both their heads“Oh, my babies! It’s alright, daddy is back. Was your abuela being mean? Did she not tell you how perfect and handsome you are? Never mind, I’m here my big little men”“Neither wanted to take the bottle. They’ve both be changed, all nice and fresh. I thought you left with Keith”“I did, but Coran needs quality uncle time... and everyone needed a small break from said uncle”Whispering the second part, Lance lifted Hunter off his Mami’s shoulder. Smiling at his cranky baby, Hunter kicked his chubby legs unhappily“Yes. I know. You’re a bottomless pit. Yes, you are. Coran, do want to hold Laith? I need to feed Hunter first, he gets super hangry”“We can’t have that. Miriam, it’s lovely to see you again. Can you believe... our... Hunk is marrying our Shay? I remember the morning of Alfor’s wedding...”Lance leaned into his Mami, his Mami kissing his cheek to hide him quickly explaining“He’s been pretty much repeating the story to everyone. He doesn’t really know what to do with himself. Keith and found him lost in town”“Oh, dear. Coran, lovely to see you, too. Why don’t I make us all a nice cup of tea and you can explain to me what happened that morning. I’m sure Altean wedding rituals are vastly differently to those on Earth”His Mami was a saint. An absolute saint. Coran needed this and she was pretty much saving everyone downstairs “That they are... The sky was filled with raining rock, the night before we’d hunted down a wild Terrbams. Fierce little blitters. The secret it not to let them bite”Coran was off in fantasy mode, his Mami kissing him on the cheek again before he was waved towards the sofa to settle down with Hunter. Coran talked and talked, then talked so some more. As Lance fed Hunter, he missed his husband. For the first few peaceful weeks Keith had stayed at his side for each feed. Cuddled into his side, Keith had soothed the emotions that came with feeding, not quite able to believe that his body was capable of providing for his sons, nor that his body could have changed so much. When things got too much, Keith would kiss his hair, tell him that this was natural and nothing to be ashamed of, and praise him until he felt warm inside. Working around his hungry son, Lance opened his comms. His memory had gotten better, but he still kept his diary. Sometimes he found himself unable to tell if something had actually happened having to rely on his diary to sort the fact from dream. Though anxious, walking around with his husband hadn’t been all bad. And though anxious about the rehearsal dinner later that night, things were better than they’d been... Yet as he started typing his day so far, his words didn’t match the happiness. Without Keith by his side, he knew he couldn’t handle being here, in this moment, in this hotel, with his sons, if he didn’t have Keith. He was surrounded by people who supported him, despite the stupid shit he’d pulled, but none of them were Keith. No one understood him like Keith. Had his husband been there, he’d have caught the rising anxiety attack sneaking up on him. He would have taken his comms before his fingers starting describing his inadequacies. He’d been inadequate today, Keith greeting everyone who’d come up to him instead of him. His husband forced to babysit him, despite him pretending it was the other way around. All he wanted was one good day. One day when he felt he was doing enough as a father, so why was it now that on what had been a good day, his mind was pulling all these emotions out of nowhere. The twins had been perfectly fine with his Mami. She knew what to do. There wasn’t some boogeyman hiding around the corner waiting to pounce. Heck, Coran was right there across from him with Laith. His Mami could be heard humming as she waited for the kettle to boil. Hunter would soon be done feeding. He was used to feeding... “Lance, my boy, are you ok?” Shit. He was crying. He hadn’t felt the tears roll down his cheek“Miriam”Calling for his Mami, Coran was still holding a grizzling Laith. Pattering over to him, his Mami took his face in her hands as she kissed his forehead “Mijo, it’s alright”“S-Sorry, I don’t know why I’m crying like this”“It happens, sweetheart. It’s alright. You’re alright. Would you like me to call Keith?”Keith still had errands to do, Pidge to talk to, and a suit to deliver. His role was to keep Coran out their hair, not scare him away with his water works. Breathing. Shaking his head, he didn’t want to disturb Keith. He’d had a good time with his husband. His anxiety was being stupid for no good reason“No. I’m ok. I’m ok... I’m ok. It’s my head being stupid”How was supposed to explain that after being around Keith practically full time even a handful of minutes separated left him off kilter? How was he supposed to explain that his family didn’t seem to be enough to keep him grounded? His Mami wouldn’t understand and he didn’t want to hurt her, not when she was supposed to be here to relax. Wiping at his cheeks with the pads of her thumbs, her voice was loving but firm“Mijo, nothing about you is stupid. Nothing. You are my precious baby boy. I know you can’t help your emotions, but there’s no need to cry”That last past didn’t reassure his anxieties, if anything, it made him feel slightly stupider for being an anxious mess. Sitting there with his breast out, he was starting to feel stupidly anxious over his mother seeing his chest“I... I’m sorry. Do you mind if I take the boys and lay down for a bit?”“I’ll take Hunter when he’s done, you feed Laith, then leave them to me. Coran and I will be perfectly fine”He couldn’t argue with that. His Mami knew how to raise children, while he was a stupid mess“Yeah. Yeah. I must have overdone it in town... a lot of people wanted to talk to us”“Of course they did, they all watched on as you and Keith made us proud. Now dry those tears before that handsome husband of yours come back. He’ll only worry if he sees you so upset, especially seeing we’re all here for such a joyous occasion”“Yes, Mami”Giving him another kiss, his mother was soon letting him go as she went off to make the tea for the three of them. He didn’t mean to cry. He’d actually prefer it if his stupid emotions would stop making him look so bad. He’d been this big shot bounty collector, and now he couldn’t handle everyday life. Talk about being pathetic. His Mami’s words stuck in his brain as he fed Laith. Coran had thankfully stopped talking about Alfor, nunvil and the cloak they’d made from some wild beast, settling down to explain to Hunter that the thing on his face was a moustache, and that said moustache was attached despite how hard he tugged on it. His Mami was right. She was always right. They had thing under control without his helping. Placing his heels on the edge of the coffee table, Lance flinched as he knocked the full cup of tea from the glass surface onto the tiles, shattering the cup. Jumping at the noise, his cheeks reddened with embarrassment as he’d completely forgotten the cup was untouched on the table, he’d only wanted to relieved some of the pressure on his lower back. They’d patched him up as good as new on Erathus, yet he still suffered nerve pain down his right leg if he sat too long in certain positions“Lance!”Flinching again at his mother growling his name, his nerves were completely fried by the accident as it was. His heart starting to race as he automatically went to curl around his son “Don’t move. This is why we don’t put our feet on the table... Oh dear, you’ve made quite the mess...”“I’m sorry. This chair isn’t great for feeding”“Then you should have stood up. There’s nothing wrong with walking while you’re feeding”No, but it did make it hard to seem as if he was paying attention to Coran and his Mami when he wouldn’t be able to face both of them if he was pacing as he fed. Chewing his bottom lip he looked down to see Laith’s fat cheeks had stopped moving, his lips now loosely around Lance’s nipple“I think Laith’s done as it is. I might put him down in our room while I take a nap...”“Mijo, I know you want to handle this on your own, but you don’t need to. Now you let me clean this mess up, then you can go for that nap without any worries”“It’s fine. I spent a few hours away from them as it is... I kind of want them near me”“You’ll be sleeping, sweetheart. I’ll handle the twins until Keith comes back. I’ve missed my little men with you living off world” He was defeated by his mother. Lifting Laith from his chest to his shoulder, he burped him carefully as he held him close. He loved his Mami, he loved her and knew she was trying to help. He knew nothing she said was meant to be cruel, but every word felt as if he was smacked in the heart. These were his boys. He was the one spending all those sleepless nights with them. He was the one missing showering, and usually walking around with vomit in his hair, because he was the one who was always there with them. It was the same feeling he had when separated from Keith, a deep feeling that the situation wasn’t right. Never mind that secondary thing in his head constantly telling him he needed to protect his boys. He couldn’t be more quiznakking protective if he tried“Lance, my boy. Do you mind if I have a quick word with you before your nap?”Lance wasn’t sure if Coran was attempting to help him, or if he actually wanted to talk to him. He felt bad for barely saying anything to Coran since they’d returned to the hotel room“Sure. I should warn you, the room is kind of a mess. I swear the twins go through six times the amount of clothes that Keith and I do” Forcing his lanky frame to unfold as he gave an equally uncomfortable laugh, Lance ignored his mother’s annoyance as he tried to escape to the bedroom with both his boys with him. Shuffling along the sofa, he climbed over the arm, silently congratulating himself for not stepping in the split tea or on the broken ceramic shards. Taking two sidesteps away from the destruction he caused, his mother was already intercepting his escape“Let me take Laith from you, I’ll settle him down then come back for this mess...”“Mami, I’ve got him”“I know you do, but this way you and Coran can have a nice talk before your nap”Reaching up to support Laith, his son was taken from his hold, the boy grumbling as he was moved. He’d been settled on Lance’s shoulder, Lance hoping that his presence would lull his son to sleep now he had nothing to be angry over“See, there we are. Now you go talk. I know you’ve missed Coran”He wasn’t five, and Coran wasn’t some friend from down the road that his Mami thought he was neglecting. He had missed Coran. Life got so busy sometimes that days slipped away between communications, but he was almost always happy to hear from him. Robbed of cuddles with one son, he’d had have to make do with watching Hunter continue stare up at Coran. Cuddles were the best part of being a parent, especially when his sons would smile at him. Tummy time was their favourite time, provided they weren’t too cranky to protest. He’d never really thought about how much he talked to their boys, though when he was trying to calm them it was usually a near constant stream. Keith had said at 2 months their boys could recognise their voices. Hunter hadn’t heard a lot of Coran’s voice, but must have liked what he heard to be so transfixed in his great-uncle“I have. Ours is the closed door...” Following him into the bedroom, Lance threw himself down on the bed before patting the spot next to him for Coran to sit. Sure, he wanted to nap. He probably needed a nap, but the nap was more an excuse to lay in his bed and destress. Sitting next to him, with his back against the headboard, Coran patted his shoulder“How’ve you been, my boy? I couldn’t help but notice you seem a little down”Coran knew him too well to buy his lies... most of time. Attempting to lie to him now wouldn’t work“Up and down. More down than up. Stressed. You know, the usual”“Ahhhh. The joys of being new parents. I remember how scared Alfor was that he’d drop Allura”“I can imagine. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be so off. Mami keeps sending me for nap time, it gets a bit repetitive when she won’t let me cuddle or play with the boys”“You did say you were going to take a nap”“Yeah... I guess this ones on me. Hunter seems really taken with you”“Would you like him back?”Now he was laying down, he just wanted to lay there next to Coran “No, no. You don’t have to keep cuddling him though. If you lay him on your legs he likes it when you clap his hands together”“Already playing... he’s growing up so fast”“They both are. They’ve both got teeth. They both love laying on their stomachs and looking up. They’re both bottomless pits like their other father. Keith loves bath time, but I like cuddles and playing better. Especially when they haven’t spent days screaming”His voice wobbled at Keith’s name, his patheticness showing. Laughing softly, Coran went about laying Hunter along his legs. The baby boy still gazing up at Coran, but finding he could suck on his fingers at the same time. Dios, his sons were far too adorable“You’re missing Keith”“Yeah... Yeah. I know it’s pathetic, but he’s been amazing. He’s been amazing with me since... well, since everything happened. Sometimes we still fight, but he always makes sure to tell me he loves me before he goes to sleep. It’s just... we’ve been together almost all day every day, for the most part. Mami wanted me back home after the surgery, but Keith brought me back to the outpost, made sure I was comfortable and all that... I know she’s trying to help and I know she’s trying to be as supportive as she can, but my anxiety can’t handle it. I feel like she thinks I can’t raise the boys, when I know that’s not what she means at all...” Watching Coran bring a bubbly smile to Hunter’s lips as he took his drooly hands to start slowly clapping them together, Lance remembered he’d completely forgotten Coran had had a family of his own. His experience wasn’t just from Allura, but also the family he’d lost thanks to this stupid war“He really likes you. I wish Laith was here to play with you too. He’d love it”“They’re beautiful boys. You and Keith did so well...”“Nah, they’re all Keith. We’ve got a bet on. I think the only thing the boys got from me is their skin colour. I think Hunter is going to end up with darker skin than Laith, but both boys aren’t going to be as brown as I am”“Laith looks more like you. You both pull the same faces. Anyone who met him would know he’s your child”“You think so?”“Indeed. Don’t sell yourself short, you and Keith have done the Voltron legacy proud with our next generation of little Paladins. Hooo-wee. He’s cuter than a swarm of dahgreap in a juniper field” Lance would rather die than let his boys be Paladins. He’d rather spend every day of his life flying around in Red and risking death alone than let them fight in a intergalactic war. Being a Paladin would never not bring up mixed feelings. Plus, who said a swarm of anything was ever cute. A swarm of bees wasn’t cute, nor was a swarm of wasps. Pouting, Lance pulled himself up to sit beside Coran. There was something Coran was trying to say that all his stories weren’t getting across, at least that how he felt. No person without a distracted mind would be comparing the twins to a swarm otherwise“Swarms are not cute. My son is perfect. Both of them are perfect. Hey, Coran... Do you think... Do you think Allura would have been okay with how everything’s turned out? Do you think she would have liked the boys? She... she would have wanted to be here with us, wouldn’t she?”“I miss her so much”Slinging his arm around Coran’s shoulders, he pulled his weird uncle close. Coran sniffled softly “I do too. It’s... Hunk and Shay are finally getting married. I wish she could see this. She would have loved helping Shay with her dress”“She would have. And I know she would loved these little boys of yours. Wherever she went, I’m sure she’ll be smiling down on the wedding tomorrow”“Yeah, she would be. She was like that, she always had love for everyone. If she was here she’d be down there helping with all the plans”“You’re all growing up too fast...”Ahhh... He recognised that sentence. His anxiety fed on the same though pattern“Hey, even if we are, you’re still going to be our “Weird Space Uncle”. Me and Keith, we’re always going to want you in our lives, in the lives of our kids. We’re family. You especially. Don’t tell Shiro and Curtis, but you’ll always be the first person I come to, other than Keith”“I’ve missed you! I know you can’t come to Altea, but we all miss you! The kids miss your lessons...”“I miss them too. Maybe when we get settled, I can bring the boys out to meet everyone? Don’t forget we’ll be there for Allura day”“You will be?” He’d really let his friendship with Coran suffer. He hadn’t meant to drift so far from the man, at least not far enough to sound so surprised“Of course. Look, Coran, you’ve always been our space uncle. You’ll always be our space uncle. You’ll have so much to teach the boys when they’re older, and I’m counting on you for that. Maybe wait until they’re 30 before starting the weapons training, but you can expect plenty of sleep overs. Keith and I haven’t planned through what we’re going to do when we move back to Earth. Keith’s probably going to find a job, and I think I’m going to take a break from everything for a while, so you can come stay at Keith’s shack with me. I know I’ll be grateful for the company. I want to make as many good memories with the boys as I can”“Oh, no. You don’t have to feel you have to invite an old fuddy like me”“I don’t feel that I have to invite you, I want to. You’re always going to be special to me”“You’ve always been special to me too, my boy”“Given all those times I helped you clean the Castle’s pod, I better be”“You were also the only one who listened to all my stories”“Coran, the Castle wouldn’t have been a home without those stories” Half the stories he could have done without hearing, less than half he remembered, but Coran had needed that friend on the Castle. He needed that human contact like Lance had needed and hadn’t found in the others. Especially after Keith had left. Coran had been his rock until he’d become too busy for him. Now he was getting depressed again. Kicking his chubby legs, Lance’s face softened with love for Hunter. He wanted to be a good father for him. He wanted to give him and Laith the whole world, or as much of it as he could. Watching Coran play, Lance let out a soft sigh, unable to restrain himself from tugging down Hunter’s rising jumper“You make a fine father, Lance”“Thanks, Coran. I might take that nap after all...”“Alright, my boy. Should I settle him down with you?”“No, no. He’s happier with his brother. They throw the biggest tantrums if you try to put them to bed without each other. Seeing he’s awake, he’ll like playing with his brother. They can’t actually play, but they know each other when you set them down for tummy time together”“Tummy time?”“You lay them down on their tummies. Laith loves it”“I shall have to ask Miriam to show me this “tummy time””“Yeah. Thanks for the chat, Coran”“Any time. I mean it. Any time you need, Lance”“I know” Lance’s nap came easily after Coran left. Without Coran he was able to pour all those messed up feelings messing with head into his diary. He was able to let himself cry softly as he vented out his frustrations. Coran had needed him. He needed him because he was afraid of what came after the wedding. He was afraid of the inevitable drifting apart that came with time. Lance had dealt with that fear with anger and isolation, Coran couldn’t be angry to save his life, no, he was far too invested in their lives to ever seperate the complex web of separation that personal growth brought. The conversations and interactions that changed. The times hanging out that morphed into the occasional visit and even rarer call. Lance had lived through that before, he’d been the one shunned as Coran currently felt he was being. All he wanted was that tiny sliver of space in the lives of the children he’d nurtured into adults. It was a sucky feeling. You couldn’t control the actions of others, nor did they mean to slip up with keeping contact with Coran. Not like when they’d left him. Not like when they’d shunned him when he’d needed them so badly. Dios. Humans were such complicated creatures... he just... he couldn’t... Waking from his nap the moment the mattress dipped, Lance opened his sore eyes to his husband’s worried face. Climbing under the covers, Keith settled laying face to face, his hand coming to rest on Lance’s cheek“Hey, you”“Hey...”His voice sounded wrecked from crying. His nose all blocked up and snotty, hardly an attractive sight for his husband to return to“Long day?”Lance snorted, his arm coming up to snake around Keith’s waist as he wriggled up to his husband “You could say that”“Want to tell me about it?”“Not much to tell... Just feeling a little down”“Coran said you missed me”“He’s a big fat dobber”Hooking his leg over Lance’s, Keith cuddled into him“I missed you”“You saw me earlier”“I still missed you. You wouldn’t believe the chaos... I want the day to end already”“I’m pretty sure I would believe the chaos. You complained about it enough on our walk”“That was before Pidge tore her dress”Lance’s eyes widened. Hunk was liable to murder Pidge if he found out about the torn dress“She did what?!”“She tripped. She’s trying to find someone to help, but she’s scared of being caught”“And you left her alone?”“She said she had it handled”Taking a welding torch to the dress was only inviting unwanted results. His heart actually hurt for his friend. Pidge would be in tears over damaging the dress“Keeeeith. Nooo. You can’t leave this to her. If she tries to fix it and fails, she’s going to be a wreck”“What am I supposed to do? I can’t sew a dress, it took Mami to fix the button on my jacket. Do we bring it to her?”Lance shook his head“No, Mami might let it slip by accident. Coran would definitely let it slip by accident. Pidge needs help and has to be us”“Babe, you’re exhausted”“I’ll be worse if we don’t help. She’s stressed enough about being in a dress to begin with. You haven’t seen Pidge cry like I have. I’m not going to let our resident gremlin cry when we can help”“I can’t sew a dress...”“I can. I used to help with all chores at home. I helped Nadia with the kids Halloween costumes”“A bridesmaid dress isn’t a Halloween costume”“Pidge would disagree”“You can’t be serious. Babe, your eyes are so red that they have to be painful”“Look, Mami and I spent the afternoon babysitting Coran. You spent the day running errands. The wedding is tomorrow so something has to be done sooner rather than later. Go get the dress, I’ll get the first aid kit out my bag”“Lance...”Nope. Keith had woken him up with the promises of cuddling, then dropped this on him. He wasn’t about to let himself be happy when Pidge would be panicked “Keith, I don’t have time to be a wreck when Hunk’s wedding is on the line. I promise we can talk about it tonight”“The dress can wait”“The dress can’t wait. Pidge would be wracked with guilt all through dinner if she has to lie about the damage”“And what about you? You’re not ok. The whole room stinks like your pain. You’ve been crying your eyes out. Mami said you’d gone down for a nap. Coran said you were panicking earlier. From what I’ve heard you’ve barely spent any time with the boys. You need a breather” Sighing softly, Lance nodded. Yeah. He needed some quality husband and baby time. He needed cuddles with his little family. He needed Keith to see him smile. He wanted to see that twinkle in his husband’s eyes, not his drawn brow with thin frowny lips. Kissing said frowny lips, Keith couldn’t remain mad at him, despite barely kissing him back “I know... I know. All I’ve wanted to do was curl up with you. I can’t do anything without you, you know that, right? You’re my world. I love you. I love you and I know you won’t steer me wrong or say this to be mean, but right now I really need to do this for Pidge”“Babe, you can’t keep pushing yourself. I know you want to help. I know you’re strong, but when you push too hard... I don’t want you to be sad”“I know you don’t. I know and I love you so much for it. If it... if it was me, she’d help. She did. She stole a pod for us... and I want Hunk to have best wedding he could imagine. I want him and Shay to be happy” Keith let out an unarticulated grumble under his breath “What was that?”“I said “fine”. I’ll get Pidge and the dress. What do I tell Mami?”“Pidge was fitted for the dress. I can work without the gremlin. Tell her not to worry and she can pick the dress up later tonight”“I was so close to being done with errands”“I know you were. I know and I’m so proud of you”Keith huffed through his nose, his husband was as much a slut for praise as he was“How proud?”“I’m more proud of you than there are stars in universe”Keith let out a breathy laugh“Babe, that’s ridiculous. You know we can’t even count how many stars there are““That must mean I’m infinitely proud of you”“Not when there has to be... just, no. It’s not possible”“It is and I am. Seriously, I’m so quiznakking proud to be your husband. I’m proud of the man you’ve become, and I’m proud of the fact you are the man that fathered our boys”Keith blinked at him, then blinked twice more. His eyes were welling with tears. Lance didn’t want tears “Hey, no. No crying. I don’t want you to cry”Kissing him hard, Lance could feel Keith’s emotions behind the kiss. Deepening the kiss, it was the most intimate kiss they’d shared since the birth of their boys. Knowing he wasn’t ready, their kisses had been soft and loving, full of reassurance of their feelings and the assurance that there was no rush to dive back in between the sheets. This kiss left Lance feeling slightly breathless as warmth pooled in his belly. His cheeks almost hurting from how widely he was smiling as the nuzzled into each other’s cheeks“I love you, Lance. I love you. And I’m so fucking proud of you... I’m so fucking happy to have you. I know it’s not easy when I’m being weird, but I promise it’s not for any bad reason”“I know it wouldn’t be. I’ve got your back Samurai, and you’ve got mine”“Always. Lance and Keith, neck and neck. Rivals for life”“Accidental and idiot husbands?”Lance snorted, as if Keith even had to ask that“Always. In every single life, I choose you”“I choose you, too, Sharp Shooter”“Good. Now go get that dress and get your arse back here. I’ve missed it”“I’ve missed this arse of yours too. Do you know how close the dry cleaner actually was? Literally a 15 minute walk. 15 minutes. He could have walked there while everyone was at the rehearsal. I swear Curtis was getting revenge for us leaving them to babysit when they hung over”“Aww. My poor husband... I promise that big bad Curtis won’t send you on anymore errands. I’ll shoot him in the foot if he even thinks of it”With a playful shove, Keith detangled himself from his “cuddly octopus” hold“We both know you wouldn’t, but I appreciate the thought”“No, I wouldn’t... damn me. I’m too damn nice”“It’s a problem you’ll have to work on”Flopping onto his back dramatically, Lance threw an arm over his face “Oh woe is me...”Copping a pillow to the face mid-complaint, the Cuban spluttered. He was prepared to be mad until Keith lifted the corner of the pillow so he could steal a quick kiss“Try not to let your dramatic arse expire until I return”“Even then, I offer no guarantees”With another quick kiss Keith was soon off the bed and out the door, Lance left feeling like a dopey love struck idiot in his wake. *The wedding ceremony was beautiful. The hotel chapel was incredible. Dressed in bouquets of lilies and roses, violets, daisies, and a dozen other types of flowers, Lance had cried his way through the whole ceremony. Shay looked incredible, Hunk literally turning red as she took his breath away. Both of them adorably nervous over it all, but so in love that anything outside their little bubble really didn’t exist. It was the kind of big white wedding Lance had wanted. The chapel itself was a wash of pastel paints on a chalk white wall, each colour lightened with age rather than artistic intent. Pidge looked uncomfortable as quiznak in her golden yellow dress, Lance quietly proud that no one could see the repair down the right hemming. Being form fitting, it’d torn on the seam line. What no one could see was the double stitching, the thread made from a fibre similar to the silver fibres of his suit. Keith had been flawed his perfect stitches which Lance didn’t like to explain were perfected by stitching himself back up when he needed to wait until he could get high. Covering the inside an ultra thin wound dressing held the delicate fabric together. The boys had decided that five minutes before they were due at the rehearsal dinner they needed to start crying. Sending Mami ahead so she might at least enjoy herself on Coran’s arm for the night, Lance had had plenty of time to work on the dress with the help of Keith, who watched the twins as Lance sat on the bed next to him sewing. His eyes hurt from the strain, but damn if it wasn’t worth it see the wedding party together. Leaving for their wedding photos on the beach, the guests that weren’t family or in the wedding party made their way into the transformed function room. Despite them not being in the wedding party, Hunk had wanted them at the wedding table. Lance didn’t want to be. Too many people glancing his way would only make him too self conscious to eat. The compromise was a table close to the wedding table, with he and Keith seated in the “corner”. Backs pretty much to the wall, the way Lance liked it. Stopping by their room, they both rehydrated and changed out their sweaty dress shirts. Then it was the usual, checking nappies, feeds, cuddles and a little bit of playtime to soothe Lance’s nerves. Neither of them felt the need to rush when the photos would probably last for next one to two hours, meaning they had plenty of time to recover from how stuffy the chapel had felt towards the end even with the slowly rotating overhead fans. Thankfully the ceremony it’s self had been short, Hunk had said his own vows, started crying, given up, then repeated the more traditional “I do’s” that they’re planned to fall after their own vows. Shay’s vows were as adorably nervous as her now husband’s to begin with. Her voice growing stronger as she thanked Hunk for all he’d shown her and for the life they had planned together. Yeah. Everyone knew he was a sucker for a fairytale ending, Lance literally didn’t think it was possible to be prouder of Hunk and Shay. Keith was as bad as he was about it all. The pair of idiots crying at the wedding as they held hands firmly, a twin nestled in the crook of their elbows. Veronica was disgusted with their tears. Zethrid nearly took his nose off as she shoved a box of tissues between them. Coran’s bottom lip quivered for the whole ceremony, his lips silently repeating the Earth vows as if repeating the line from his favourite movie. Their whole family was filled with idiots, but that was what made it amazing. Sitting at their table was Veronica, Axca, Zethrid, Ezor, Coran, his Mami, Sam and Colleen Holt, Matt and his partner, Curtis and Shiro, then rounding out the table was Krolia and Korra. Lance’s team had been invited, yet Daehra didn’t want to intrude so Marco decided they’d be there after the end of the formal dinner... basically when the party began and he didn’t have to worry about Mami scolding him for drinking too much. His brother had learned nothing from the buck’s party. Not even two half waxed eye brows could stop the strong idiocy in that one. The first thing his Mami had commented on was the changed shirts and lack of suit jackets. Hunter had spat up down Keith’s shoulder, his husband using the jacket like a towel. Lance had the suspicions that it was to avoid being forced to wear for photographs. It was a shame really, Keith cut impressive figure in his suit, not like him. Lance felt too frumpy to be rocking a suit with the same kind of effects.

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thinkingaboutyoungroyals · 5 years

Text

Lost Boy (Chapter 5: Learning New Things)

Summary: When his family moves from San Francisco to the town of Shadyside, T.J. thought his life would change. And it did. He just didn’t think it would come in the form of the ghost of a boy who haunted his new bedroom.

Prologue

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4

Tag list:@delicatesleeper,@ibroughtachallah,@frenchtohste,@alittletooliteralleah,@tyrusmagocious,@tjskipping, @mirrorslover, @opatrickr, @lesbianrelateddeath,@mirrorslover,@opatrickr, @justkimberley, @burning-hot-pan,@green-lemonboys, @anotherangelfromspace,@thebisexualweirdo,@likelightning-inabottle,@thedampjofangirl, @fizasdr, @awkward-bisexual-alien, @whipashwhipash, @abg-blah, @atthemomentimintothis, @emberofthefrost

.........

Sweat rolled off his back and forehead while his lungs burned from the exertion. Every muscle in his body was tight and ached. And his cheeks were red and heated.

It felt good.

A whistle rang in his ears just as he caught the ball passed on to him.

“Alright! Ten-minute break and we’ll dive right into a mock play!” announced the Coach.

T.J. tossed the ball into the nearby cart, gave Buffy’s friend (a guy named Marty) who was his partner for the drill a fist bump, and headed for one of the benches by the bleachers where he left his bag. He rummaged around for his water bottle and took a generous gulp. The cold water soothed his throat, cooling him down.

“Hey, T.J.! Great job out there!” Andi had come down from the bleachers, Libby behind her.

He smiled at her. “Thanks. You think I’ll make it?”

Libby made a few signs in ASL. Unfortunately, T.J. wasn’t familiar with it yet but Andi or Walker often interpreted for him.

“Libby says they’ll be crazy not to let you in! And I agree with her! You’re a natural!” Andi grinned

“Thanks, guys. That means a lot.”

He turned his head to see what the others were doing and spotted Buffy talking to Marty nearby.

Perfect.

He lifted a hand and made his voice as loud as possible. “Buffy! Hey!”

The curly-haired girl turned her head, catching sight of him. She waved back and jogged over, the brunette boy following behind her.

“’Sup, Kippen?” she grinned. “You really gave Marty a run for his money!”

“Hey! He has longer legs so he’s naturally faster!” the boy protested.

T.J. laughed and turned to Andi, whose smile had dropped slightly. He pretended not to notice and gestured to her.

“This is Andi and Libby, by the way. Andi and Libby, this is Buffy. And Marty.”

“From the party,” Andi blurted out before blushing. “Sorry, force of habit.”

Nonetheless, Marty laughed and Buffy’s lips twitched in amusement. T.J. wondered what the story behind that was.

Andi managed a small smile as she turned her attention to Buffy. “Hi, Buffy.”

Buffy returned the smile, rather sadly. “Hi, Andi.”

He could practically feel the tense electricity in the air. Even Libby looked a little awkward, her gaze moving from Andi to Buffy and back to Andi.

T.J. pretended to look confused. “You, guys, know each other? Oh, wait, Andi. This is the Buffy you were talking about?”

“Well, there’s no one else at this school named after a famous vampire slayer,” Buffy joked.

It made everyone laugh and, for a moment, the atmosphere was a little less tense. From the outside looking in, they probably looked like a group of good friends.

If only that were truly the case.

When the laughter died down, the awkwardness returned. Andi and Buffy couldn’t look at each other in the eye. Libby was staring at Andi, her hands twitching like she desperately wanted to say something. And Marty kept his gaze on the floor, though his arm made its way over Buffy’s shoulder.

“Well, this is great!” T.J. forced perkiness into his tone, cringing at how fake he sounded. “We should all hang out! After tryouts? We can go to The Spoon.”

He grinned expectantly at everyone, even showed some teeth. If Cyrus could see him now, the ghost would no doubt laugh in his face because he was clearly trying too hard.

Instead of the enthusiastic agreement that he was hoping for, the tension only grew. Buffy looked a little hopeful but still, she didn’t say a word.

“Um, Libby and I are actually helping Walker with a mural later,” said Andi, softly.

Beside her, Libby nodded in agreement.

Buffy’s face fell as she looked away, refusing to meet their eyes. “And Marty and I already have plans. Sorry.”

T.J. felt his heart sink. “Oh…”

Meanwhile, Marty cleared his throat. “Maybe another time?” he offered.

T.J. nodded. “Yeah, definitely.”

Another awkward silence fell upon them as he racked his brains for something to break it. He wished he had something, anything, to get them to start talking.

“Uh, I need to go to the bathroom,” Buffy announced, already turning away. “I’ll see you, guys.”

“Sure,” T.J. replied.

He, Andi, and Libby just watched as Buffy and Marty walked away from them and through the door to the locker rooms. Sighing, T.J. turned back to the two girls.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t realize…”

Andi shook her head. “It’s okay. I mean, it’s not like Buffy and I don’t like each other anymore. It’s just…we lost touch. She became preoccupied with sports and I wanted to concentrate on art.”

And the silent third thing was there: there was no Cyrus to glue them back together, anymore.

T.J. wished he could offer more comfort, given the knowledge he had about their friendship. But, he could only keep his mouth closed and look sorry as much as he could.

After all, they didn’t know that he knew exactly why they stopped talking.

……….

After tryouts, he headed to The Spoon Diner. Amber was working there as a waitress now. Her shifts were after school, three times a week, from 4-7pm, which meant that T.J. could stop by and get free food when she was working. It was one of those days and he really needed some comforting junk food in his system.

He spotted his sister’s blonde ponytail taking orders at the bar counter so he settled on a stool there and patiently waited.

Amber finished with her customer, spotted him, and walked right over.

“Hey, twerp. How were tryouts?” she asked.

T.J. glared at the insulting nickname before grinning. “I think I did pretty great! I’m definitely in!”

“Oohh, sounding confident, aren’t we?” Amber raised an eyebrow. “When do you know the results?”

“Monday. But, I know I’m definitely in!”

“Aww, I’m proud of you.”

Amber reached over to ruffle his hair and T.J. recoiled, slapping her hands away.

“Can you just get me some food? I’m hungry.”

“I don’t hear the magic word.”

“Now, please.”

Amber rolled her eyes but lifted her pad and pen to take his order. “What do you want?”

T.J. shrugged. “Don’t know. Never been here. What’s good?”

“The baby taters are pretty popular. And the milkshakes.”

He raised a brow. “What are baby taters?”

Amber chuckled. “Their version of a tater tot. But, it’s really good, almost everyone orders it.”

“Then, I’ll have that. And a chocolate milkshake. To go.”

She lifted her eyes from her pad. “You’re not staying?”

“Nah, I’ll just head home. Cyrus probably wants to know how it went.”

And just like that, his sister’s smile dipped into a frown. “So, you’re actually helping that ghost?” she asked in a low tone.

T.J. shrugged. “Yeah.”

Amber’s hands fell on top of the counter, clutching the edge tightly. “You promised you wouldn’t do this anymore. You said you wanted a normal life, yet you’re back to the same old routine again?”

“It’s just one ghost,” T.J. defended. “And it’s not anything dangerous, either. I’m just helping his friends make up again, that’s all. Nothing illegal, no breaking and entering, and no trip to the police this time. I swear.”

“And what if the other ghosts find out and they flock to you for help?”

“Cyrus promised me he wouldn’t tell the others. He told me he doesn’t talk to them anyway.”

Amber steeled her gaze. “And you believe him?”

“Yes.” T.J. returned her look, stubbornly refusing to back down. “I trust him. And he trusts me.”

Well, he didn’t know, exactly, if Cyrus trusted him, but what else he could say to get her to drop the subject and accept his decision?

And, besides, Cyrus had declared them friends and told him many things about himself (except for the way he died, that was still a well-guarded secret and mystery). That meant he trusted T.J. even just a little, right?

Amber continued to stare him down, in big sister mode now. She may support his abilities but she never did approve of his activities, which mostly stemmed from the trauma with Emily. She didn’t trust ghosts, no matter what.

“I’ve never seen you act like this towards a ghost before,” she stated, her brow furrowing. “Normally, you’re detached. You treat it like a job you hate. But with this one… you’re different.” She narrowed her eyes. “Do you like him or something?”

Immediately, T.J.’s cheeks flushed, caught off-guard. “What?”

“Is he your type?” she pressed.

“What are you talking about?” T.J.’s entire face burned, including his ears.

“I need a picture of this boy. What was his name again?”

“Amber!”

“Never mind. I’ll find out, myself.”

Without another word to him, she spun on her heels and headed towards the kitchen. “I can’t believe my brother has a crush on a ghost,” he heard her murmur before she walked through the doors.

Groaning, T.J. dropped his head on the table.

Amber was just being ridiculous. He didn’t have a crush on Cyrus! Sure, he thought he was kind of cute and endearing, but T.J. barely knew anything about him!

And, besides, Cyrus was a ghost! It would never work out! As soon as T.J. finished helping him with his unfinished business, he was going to move on and disappear from the Earth forever. T.J. could not afford to crush on a ghost, it would just all end in heartbreak.

Feeling a presence settle on the seat next to him, he lifted his head. Amber was beside him, no longer wearing her hat and apron.

He raised his brows, questioningly, at her.

“I’m taking my break,” was all she answered.

T.J. rolled his eyes. “If you’re just trying to find out if I have a crush on Cyrus, I don’t. Okay? We’re just friends. He’s not interested in me in that way and neither am I.”

His sister didn’t look like she believed him. Instead, she took out her phone and quickly typed and furiously scrolled, not looking at him. Finally, she found what she was looking for and turned the phone around.

It was a Facebook account - a private one but the profile picture was clear as day in revealing who owned it. And the smiling image staring back at him was of the same boy who lived in his bedroom.

“Is this him?” she asked.

“H-How did you…?”

“I can ask mom questions, too.”

“You texted her?! What if she was in the middle of a lesson?!”

“If she was, she wouldn’t text me back.” Amber flashed him a pointed look. “So, there aren’t many Cyrus Goodman’s who live in Shadyside, just this one.” She raised an eyebrow. “So? Is this him?”

T.J. nervously swallowed. “Y-Yeah,” he admitted.

Amber hummed as she looked at her phone again. “I guess he’s kinda cute. Not my type, but he’s got a certain charm to him. I can see why you want to help him.”

“Amber, his looks have got nothing to do with my helping him, okay?” T.J. sighed. “I just feel bad. He’s obviously stuck and doesn’t know why. I’m just trying to help. And he’s really nice, not like the others. They’re always demanding me to do things for them but Cyrus? He never asked for my help. I offered it. And he’s not making me rush either. I just… want to help him.” He sighed again. “I don’t even know if I can help. So far, my plan to get his friends to talk again didn’t work. It’s like they don’t even know what to say to each other or how to start a conversation.”

Amber puffed her cheeks, indicating that she was actually thinking deeply about something.

“Maybe… they just need something to remind them of their old friendship,” she suggested.

“Like what?” he asked.

“Things like… the place they met… or a place they frequented… maybe an activity they often did together.”

T.J. didn’t know what those were but he could always ask Cyrus.

“… or maybe old photos? Those can always make you remember the good ol’ days. Never underestimate the power of nostalgia.”

T.J. pursed his lips. “I guess I could ask Cyrus.”

Amber gave him a worried look. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

He appreciated her concern but he already made up his mind. He nodded. “Yeah, I’m sure.”

Sighing loudly, Amber nodded. “Alright. Just be careful.” She got to her feet. “Your order should be done soon. I’ll go check.”

She affectionately patted his cheek before leaving. He smiled after her in gratitude.

For all of her hatred of ghosts, his sister still came through with offering him advice.

……....

He had to admit. The baby taters were addicting. They were lightly salted and the grease stained his fingers. He never cared about tater tots before but, for some reason, he just couldn’t stop eating them.

T.J. stared forlornly at the Styrofoam box sitting on his desk that was once filled to the brim but was now half-empty, only around six tots left. He should go on a jog tomorrow morning because he was pretty sure he gained quite a bit just from that. All he wanted was a snack but Amber gave him the huge serving and he didn’t know whether to thank her or curse her.

As he reached over to take another piece, he caught a shimmer from the corner of his eye.

As usual, Cyrus was sat on his desk, smiling and waving. “Hey, T.J.”

The blonde let out a chuckle. “No nickname today?”

Cyrus shrugged. “Couldn’t think of one.” When he looked down and saw the box, his eyes lit up. “Oh my god! Are those baby taters?!”

“Yeah? Want some?”

T.J. almost kicked himself. Of course, Cyrus couldn’t have some! He was a ghost!

Thankfully, Cyrus just laughed. “No, thanks. I’m on a diet.” He looked on with a sad smile at the tater tots. “These were my favorite. Andi, Buffy, and I used to get a huge order and share them. And I would do tater theatre!”

Raising a curious brow, T.J. asked, “What’s tater theatre?”

The question seemed to light up Cyrus’ entire face. He proudly straightened up. “Only the best and most entertaining show in Shadyside, presented to you by the wonderful Cyrus Goodman.” He gestured to the baby taters. “May I?”

Confused yet curious, T.J. gave him the go-ahead with a simple nod.

Excitedly, Cyrus picked up two of the tots. “High School Musical or Camp Rock?”

“Uh… High School Musical?”

The ghost grinned. “Excellent choice. So, today’s installment of tater theatre presents, High Tater Musical!” He lifted a tot. “From the moment Troy Bolton and Gabriella Montez met, they had no idea that it was going to be the start of something new…”

T.J. watched in total astonishment as Cyrus re-created the entire movie using only the tater tots and his voice. It was the most ridiculous display he had ever seen in his entire life.

He loved it.

He clapped loudly when Cyrus finished and the boy blushed yet gave a little bow.

“Thank you, thank you! I’ll be here all night!”

“That was... wow.”

“Not exactly an adjective but I’ll take it!”

T.J. grinned as he picked up a tot, dipped it in ketchup, and popped it into his mouth. “And you did this all the time?”

“Only when I felt inspired. Which was a lot.”

If any of those were just like the one he just witnessed, Cyrus’ friends probably had a grand time watching them.

“So, aside from baby taters, what else do you like?”

It didn’t take long for the boy to answer. “Chocolate-chocolate chip muffins! They’re the best thing in this world! Aside from baby taters, of course!”

“I’m learning new things about you everyday.”

Cyrus cocked his head to the side. “What about yours?”

“My what?”

“Your favorite muffin.”

T.J. pursed his lips in thought. “Hmmm… Blueberry macadamia.”

Cyrus made a face. “That doesn’t exist!”

“Of course, it does! There’s this bakery back in San Francisco that makes really good blueberry macadamia! We went there all the time!”

It was one of the very few things he missed about San Francisco, but he could live with it.

The ghost looked at him, suspiciously. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

T.J. opened his mouth to answer but stopped himself on time. He had been about to tell Cyrus that he would take him.

What was he thinking?! Of course, he couldn’t take Cyrus to San Francisco! Ghosts were normally tied to one place and Cyrus was tied to this town. They couldn’t just go on a road trip to San Francisco… could they?

“But, you know, if you dip the baby tater in your milkshake, it tastes like heaven. Or, that’s how I imagine heaven to taste like.”

T.J. blinked, confused, but Cyrus was staring at the little container of ketchup on his desk.

T.J.’s chest twitched and he lifted a hand to scratch at it. “Sure, I’ll give it a shot.” He opened the top of his milkshake cup and dipped a baby tater in before taking a small bite.

As soon as the cold sweetness combined with the light salty taste met his tongue, his eyes widened in shock.

Cyrus looked utterly delighted when he dipped the tot in a second time.

The simple things really did make the ghost happy. “So, how were tryouts?” he asked, leaning back as he playfully kicked his legs back and forth.

T.J. wiped his hands on a napkin. “Pretty great! I’m definitely in, but I don’t find out for sure until Monday.”

“You’re in. I just know it!”

T.J. smiled, feeling warmth take over his body as he was filled with gratitude for the boy’s support.

He waited for Cyrus to ask about Buffy and Andi but he didn’t. Honestly, he wasn’t looking forward to telling him that his plan failed. He hoped Cyrus wouldn’t be too disappointed.

“But, my plan… didn’t actually work,” he stated, slowly.

Cyrus frowned. “Your plan?”

“For Buffy and Andi. They barely talked! It was so awkward!”

“Oh.” Cyrus nodded, his eyes falling to the floor. He did look disappointed but not surprised. “That’s okay. You tried your best.”

T.J. didn’t like that forlorn look on his face. It just didn’t suit him.

T.J. scooted his chair closer to the boy, placing a hand on his knee.

“Don’t worry. I’ll keep trying. This isn’t the end.”

Cyrus managed a small smile at that. “Thank you.”

T.J. nodded. “So, I talked to my sister about it. And she said maybe they’ll talk if something reminded them of their friendship. Like, maybe the place you guys met?”

“Second grade. Jefferson Elementary. It’s only a couple of blocks from the Middle School.”

“Where did you guys hang out a lot?”

“The Spoon. Red Rooster since Andi’s dad owns the place. And, sometimes, Cloud Ten. That’s the Salon on Main, Andi’s mom owns it.”

T.J. pursed his lips. “Now, how do I get them both in all those places? They wouldn’t even go to The Spoon with me!”

Chuckling, Cyrus shook his head. “I don’t know. I mean, everyone hangs out at The Spoon, they’re bound to run into each other there at some point. And wouldn’t they find it weird if you asked them to go to the Elementary School? They don’t even know that you know me. Unless you told them you found pictures of us or something.”

T.J.’s ears perked. Pictures.

“Do you have any?” he asked, the wheels in his head turning.

“Any what?”

“Pictures! Of the three of you! Maybe if I show it to them, they’ll remember they were friends. And they’ll…” He looked at Cyrus, trying to decipher his expression. “Remember you. And the times you guys shared.”

Cyrus bit his lower lip, seeming like he was struggling with a thought.

It only then occurred to T.J. that, obviously, Cyrus wouldn’t have any photos. At least, not here. His whole room was cleared out with almost everything when his parents sold the house to T.J.’s mom. And he didn’t really feel like breaking and entering into Cyrus’ parents’ new place - those days were behind him.

He was about to apologize when Cyrus nodded.

“I do. In the closet, there’s a loose floorboard. I used it to hide some things. I’m sure they’re still there, no one else knows about it.”

With Cyrus’ approval, T.J. got up and went over to the closet. Crouching on the floor, he pushed sneakers and boxes aside.

“It’s towards the back,” Cyrus called out.

T.J. crawled further in, rapping his knuckles against the wood. Finally, he heard it – a hollow sound. Using his fingernails, he jiggled and pried the wood loose, lifting it up and setting it aside. Inside was a blue shoebox, a little frayed but still intact. Taking it in his hands, he crawled back out of the closet and placed it on the floor. He crossed his legs underneath him.

Cyrus appeared across from him, the box between them.

“You can open it,” the boy said with a nod.

T.J. nodded back before removing the top. His eyes met a stack of photos placed neatly on top of a little blue notebook. He carefully took out the stack.

The beaming face of a young Cyrus standing in between a young Buffy and Andi stared back at him.

“Wow, you guys were adorable,” he said, unable to stop himself from smiling.

He flipped through them, each one showing a new memory, a new stage of Cyrus’ life as the three gradually got older and older. There were photos of them in Halloween costumes, at The Spoon, at birthday parties, on bikes.

In almost all of them, Cyrus was always in the middle, always sandwiched in between the two girls who clearly adored him and whom he adored in return. They were a huge part of each other’s lives.

T.J. arrived at the last photo of the three friends at what looked like a pizza place, a fourth person standing next to Cyrus.

“Jonah Beck,” T.J. stated, staring at a much younger-looking version of the boy from his English class.

“Yeah.” Fingers gently grasped the edge of the photo as Cyrus reached over to take it from his hold. “This was taken the year before I died. The Space Otters won their final game of the season.”

T.J. didn’t know who the Space Otters were but he dared not interrupt to ask.

Cyrus continued to talk, “Jonah gave me the MVP award and an honorary Space Otter member t-shirt. It was a fun time.” He smiled at the photo, fondly. “That was when I…”

The ghost trailed off, looking like his mind was far away now.

“When… you?” T.J. tried to ask, his curiousity piqued.

Cyrus looked up at him, meeting his eyes. The brown orbs looked conflicted, like he was trying to make a decision.

“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” said T.J., immediately. “But, I may not be the son of three psychologists and a life coach, but I can still listen.”

At that, the other boy broke into a smile. “Yeah…”

“I promise I won’t judge. Well, unless you think the ‘The Last Airbender’ live-action movie was great. Then, I’m sorry but I have to judge you.”

Cyrus finally laughed. “Never. I have some taste.” He quieted again, lips pressed tightly in thought.

T.J. decided to look through the photos again, giving the other boy time to decide and get comfortable.

There were a couple of pictures of a young Cyrus, Buffy, and Andi on the swings and a few more recent-looking ones, too. They must really like the swings. T.J. recognized the playground it was on, he passed it often whenever he took a shortcut through the park on his way home from school.

And Cyrus wore a lot of sweaters and button-ups. T.J. couldn’t judge his fashion choices. He, himself. only wore hoodies, after all.

And Cyrus could dance? There was a photo of the three in fedoras and sparkly jackets mid-dance on a dance floor at some kind of huge event. He didn’t strike T.J. as the type, but then again, there were many things he didn’t know about Cyrus.

“I’m gay.”

T.J.’s head flew up so fast that he thought his neck had snapped.

Cyrus wasn’t looking at him. His eyes were firmly set on the photo he still clutched in his shaking hands.

“I’m sorry, I kind of sprung a big one on you,” he continued, his voice breaking. “I just… I know we’ve only known each other for maybe three weeks but I feel comfortable talking to you and I feel like you won’t judge me. But… please don’t think I’m weird or looking at you or something like that because I’m not, I swear. I respect your privacy and if you want me to leave any time, I-.”

“I’m gay, too.”

It was Cyrus’ turn to almost snap his neck as he looked up at T.J., mouth open in disbelief.

T.J. flashed him a gentle smile. “Hi.”

Cyrus’ mouth opened and closed. “I… You… Really?”

T.J. nodded.

“And you’re just… telling me? Just like that?” the boy continued to ask, still sounding unsure.

T.J. shrugged. “I’m not exactly out everyone but the people who matter already know the truth. There’s Amber, my mom, and, now, you.” He smiled again. “I trust you, Ghost Boy. And you can trust me.”

For a beat or two, Cyrus was quiet as he continued to stare at him like he had two heads. And then, he let out a breath – one that was full of relief.

And, T.J. wondered: how long had been hiding it? How long had he been keeping it all in? How long had he been holding his breath with no way to release it?

“I do,” Cyrus said, smiling at him, his brown eyes shining with unshed tears. “I trust you.”

T.J.’s heart was suddenly beating so fast that he feared that it would jump out of his chest. He recognized this feeling. He had only felt it once before and never thought he would again. At least, not right now. And not towards a ghost. But, maybe he had been trying to deny it because Cyrus was a ghost.

Shit. Maybe Amber was right.

#andi mack #tyrus #tyrus fanfic #tyrus lost boy

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hawkbucks · 5 years

Text

It’s AUnytime which means I finally have an excuse to post a myriad of AU’s. Dragon Age!AU because I said so and also because the 4th game is coming out and I’m very, very excited for it, I love Dragon Age so much, thanks. Also: ROGUE 4 LIFE.

Idk when this takes place, so please do not ask me hgfjdksl I’m inclined to say after Inquisition but we all know how nothing is really set in stone with me so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Do not ask me where this takes place either, because I also don’t know. Ferelden? The Free Marches? Orlais? Nevarra? Who knows, because I certainly don’t. I said that but teyrn is a specifically Fereldan term, so they’re in Ferelden, I GUESS. Let’s pretend that Kinloch is… better (which would probably put this after Origins and sometime before Inquisition or… god, I should stop).

Anyway, basic stuuuuuuuff:

Anthony is the son of the influential teyrn Howard Stark. He comes into his magic at the age of 8 when he burns–and scars–a young Tiberius Stone after Tiberius kept harassing him. All his life, he’s grown up hearing about the dangers of magic: it’s a punishment bestowed by the Maker upon mankind for their ambition and greed. Wielders of magic are usually taken from their families when their powers manifest and brought to schools called Circles. Anthony, scared of both the implications of being imbued with magic and the very real threat of being separated from his family, flees.

‘Course, he’s 8 so he doesn’t get very far. They find him in a wheat field, scorched earth forming a circle around him. Maria begs H*ward to keep Anthony with them. She’ll find a teacher, pay them well, just please don’t let them take Anthony away. H*ward doesn’t really give a shit, though. Mage children cannot inherit land or fortune, so what’s the point of keeping Anthony? Plus, he’d be accused of nepotism and his reputation would go down the chamberpot.

He lets the Templars take Anthony away. It’s a shame, really. Anthony has shown great prowess with an anvil and a pair of blacksmithing tools, and Howard has no doubt that Tony’s natural charisma would’ve been a great help in the court of Thedosian politics. The only thing they allow him to bring is a plush mabari that his mother bought for him when he was a wee bit younger (he named it “Dummy” and he’s refused to part with it ever). There are tears, yes, quite a bit of them. When Maria pulls away, her entire shoulder is soaked, but there really is nothing that she can do. As much as she hates H*ward’s decision, she also knew it was the only way Anthony could stay safe.

It is in the Circle that he meets one James Rhodes, the child of a fisherman and seamtress from some town near a lake whose name Anthony finds to be somewhat familiar. James is maybe a year or two older than him, and he’s the only one who didn’t scoff at him when he arrived. Plus, he helped get Dummy back from a bunch of other children who wanted to tease the new arrival. He’s also much kinder to Anthony than what Anthony would’ve expected, whether that means James giving Anthony the rest of his broth if he notices that he still looks rather hungry, or James draping another blanket around Anthony’s shoulders if he notices him shivering.

(This is, of course, thanks to the fact that James has been in the Circle for a good amount of time and he knows how crushing it can be to remain alone. In Anthony, he sees this kid who’s confused, scared, just had his blood taken to make a phylactery, and who reminds him so much of how he was like when he first came in, so he tries his best to make it better. He is far, far too young to be acting this old.)

Anthony eventually nicknames James “Rhodey,” and it sticks. However, James only lets Anthony call him that. He, in turn, nicknames Anthony “Tones.” “Tony” for something slightly shorter. They spend pretty much any moment that’s not studying or learning or sleeping with each other.

(Just adding this, but Tony is shown to be adept at Primal magic, particularly fire, while Rhodey has talent in the Force side of things.)

Also, Harrowings! Harrowings are good and not at all traumatizing! Rhodey goes through his first. He’s just sitting there, eating some nice cheese with Tony, and bam! A couple of Templars take him because the enchanters decided he was ready. Thankfully, he’s able to resist the temptation of the demon and exit. Tony, when he sees him again, admits to nearly crying because he’s heard of the Harrowing—even if he doesn’t know what it specifically entails—and he was worried for Rhodey.

When Tony is taken for his Harrowing, Rhodey just prays to the Maker that he doesn’t find his best friend Tranquil or worse: with a sword driven through his body. But it’s all good. Tony comes back.

The Templars are hardasses, and some are just downright creepy, but thankfully none of them try to antagonize Tony or Rhodey.

I do want to have Pepper in this, but I was thinking of introducing her by having Tony and Rhodey eventually leave the Circle [whether through egress or me backtracking on my previous statement of not knowing when this takes place and having it be when the Breach appears in the sky and it All Goes To Hell therefore giving Tony and Rhodey a better chance to leave and not be found out] and coming across her humble little farm. She’d be older than they are and she’d have a husband, Harold/Happy, and she’d basically take them under her wing. “You’re not put off by the fact that we’re mages?” Rhodey would ask, and she’d shake her head. “Why should I be? You’re human like the rest of us. It just happens that you both are—” she’d look at the both of them up and down, taking in their robes, their silver rings, and the staves strapped to their backs— “more… talented than others.”

As for other characters, I am considering making Steve a Templar. His mother was a devout Chantry goer, and during their trips he’d see them and think they were doing the Maker’s work. Of course, he was a child, so he didn’t really… know about how terrible Templars can be, he just thought they would help protect the mages from people that wished them harm and from themselves if need be.

The only thing about him being a Templar is that I cannot see him putting aside his morals to blindly trust the command of a superior. He can’t be that emotionally rigid. “A Templar’s obedience to the Chantry is more important than their moral center.” “Bullshit,” Steven Grant Rogers replies, throwing his sword down on the ground.

If he were to be a Templar, he’d be one of those Templars that does not stand for any other Templar’s shenanigans. He calls out everyone and anyone, whether they be a lowly recruit or the goddamn Knight-Commander. He’s got a mouth; he’s going to use it. (He’s pretty sure there’s a contingent that’s planning his assassination. He wishes them luck, because he’s rather skilled in swordplay.) He’s not going to let them stray from their duty of protecting mages and the outside world.

There’s also lyrium and all that. Which brings me to Bucky. I could also make Bucky a Templar, and… it would make sense, right? A bit? That’s where him and Steve meet, and the both of them have such strong moral compasses that they hit it off almost immediately. It’s like they’re both going “Same hat! Same hat!”

Then, at some point, Bucky leaves to visit his family and he just doesn’t come back. I’m still rough on what happens, but obviously that would be the “Winter Soldier” part of his life where either a) whoever has him drastically increases his lyrium dosage to further heighten his abilities at the expense of horrific lyrium-induced nightmares and episodes of paranoia or b) red lyrium which is infinitely more worse and you know what, nah, I can’t do this to Bucky :(

Natasha is definitely a bard. Full stop. She’s a master in deception, manipulation, espionage, and she knows her way around a blade or two. She also has a delightful singing voice. However, even with the adrenaline rush of a job done right, the thrill of being caught spiking through her veins, she can’t say that she enjoys her job. It’s just that she’s good at it and Orlesian nobles are stacked with royals.

(Another option would be her being an Antivan Crow, because it certainly is as brutal as her backstory, but I just felt like her being a bard suited her better?)

Okay, that’s it for now before this gets too big gjfdkls

#da au #Idk what to name it so it's just 'da au' for now lol

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casstheultimatemess · 5 years

Text

Alone Together; Chapter 3

AO3 Link

Trigger Warnings: toxic masculinity, harassment, implied sexual harassment, transphobia, panic attack, swearing, food mention. Please tell me if I am missing anything!

Special thanks to my beta Virgil (@therubyjailcell) for putting up with my rambling and bad grammar. Thanks V!

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Patton and Virgil keeps talking for what feels like hours. They talk about everything, from simple life achievements, to favorite foods. At one point, Virgil mentions that he liked a band named ‘My Chemical Romance’ and lets Patton listen to one of their songs. Patton is quick to say that this isn’t his type of music, and they both laugh about that.

Right there, Virgil makes a decision. Even though he has never heard of his uncle until the day before, he already knows that he will never be able to let him go.

At around six in the afternoon, both start to get hungry. It becomes quickly known that neither Patton or Virgil want to cook, so the unanimous decision falls on pizza from a local Italian place. And that is how they end up walking through the streets of Carstairs.

“I tell you Virgil, Flavio makes the best pizza I have ever tasted. How an Italian wound up in this old town is beyond me, but as long as he keeps serving his pizza you don’t hear me complaining,” Patton has been rambling for the entire way there, and Virgil provides comments with the occasional snicker or sarcastic remark.

“Well, here we are. You wanna go inside kiddo?”

Virgil looks through the window and sees that the shop is not only very tiny, but also cramped with people.

“I, uh, I would prefer not to… so many people,” he says, thinking his words would fall to deaf ears. But to his surprise, Patton’s reaction is positive.

“No problem Virge. Just wait out here, I’ll be right back,” Patton quickly ruffles Virgil’s hair before heading inside. When the doors open, Virgil can hear the many voices chattering over each other and he is really glad he doesn’t have to go in there. To many people are like oil for his anxiety fire.

Virgil pulls out his earbuds and his phone and selects a playlist full with musical songs. He might be a first class emo, but Broadway has some nice tunes that are to addicting to him. After 2 songs, he quickly forgets the world around him and is bopping along with ‘The Schuyler Sisters’, shyly acting out the dance moves and mouthing along with the lyrics.

He is so caught up in the music he doesn’t even notice a group of guys walking towards him and calling him until one of them pushes him. Virgil stumbles over, his earbuds yanking out of his ears and his phone sliding away from him over the pavement. He wants to chase after them, but something grabbed his arm.

“Hey are you deaf or something? Jeff here was asking you something,” A boy with smooth blond hair is tugging Virgil’s arm, smirk clear on his face.

“No, no I… Phone…” the panic is getting to Virgil, breathing and thinking starts to become harder and harder.

“Good, you are new in town right? I have never seen you before, and I know all the girls here,” the other boy, Jeff, Virgil assumes, says. But there it is again, girl. People see him as a girl, and will never see him as anything else than a girl and he is just being annoying and…

“Hello, earth to newbie? We want to show you around town, because we are such nice guys and a small girl shouldn’t be alone around here. We can take care of you,” the first boy says, smirk growing even bigger, and Virgil knows these boys are trouble. But somehow, a wave of courage washes over him, and he speaks up.

“I’m… I’m a boy,”

The boys look at each other confused for a moment, and then smirk back again.

“Awh, little kitten thinks she is tough? Thinks she is a big boy?” Jeff says in a baby voice.

“Maybe we should change that attitude,” boy one said. They looked at each other again and then both start tugging Virgil on both his arms, the grip very painful. Virgil struggles to get out, but the grip only becomes stronger.

“Shh little kitten, we will learn you how to be a good girl. Just come with us and..”

“HEY ASSHOLES! LEAVE THEM ALONE!” a voice booms through the street, the boys looking up to the source of the voice, looking at each other again, then dropping Virgil harshly to the ground and running away. Virgil rolls into a ball, tears now streaming down his face paired with silent sobs. Why? Why did this always happen to him?

“Hey, shh, you are okay,” a voice whispers in his ear. Patton? The thought of Patton makes him calm down, the sobs becoming less frequent.

“Yes, that’s good. Breathe,” A hand rubs in circles on his back, and while he normally doesn’t like to be touched, this touch is comforting and grounding. Eventually the crying stops, and he slowly looks up to the source of the voice.

That… that isn’t Patton.

Above him is sitting a man with auburn hair and brown skin. He flinches back.

“Hey hey, shh, I don’t mean harm. I have your phone here,” the man say, holding Virgil’s phone in his hands like a peace offering.

Virgil slowly comes forward and grabs his phone out of the hands of the stranger. He inspects it quickly. The case is a bit damaged, and one corner is chipped off, but nothing too bad. He looks up to the stranger again.

“Gotta say, you got good taste. I love Heathers!” the stranger says, grinning wide.

Virgil finds himself grinning back. This man helped him after he almost got kidnapped, he thinks. Guess he deserves some trust.

“And…” Virgil scrapes his throat. God, it sounds like he has swallowed a bunch of sand.

“And who are you supposed to be then? Chandler?”

“Neh, I picture myself more as McNamara. And what about you JD?”

Virgil chuckles. “Yeah, sure,”

The man reaches out a hand.

“Wanna get up? The pavement isn’t exactly that comfortable,”

Virgil grabs the hand gratefully, and the stranger hoists them both up.

“Roman Kingston by the way. Nice to meet you,”

“Virgil…” Virgil hesitates. What was his last name, now that his parents kicked him out? Roman apparently doesn’t seem to mind.

“Nice to meet you Virgil! Now, what did those boys want from you? You know them?” Roman asks, worry in his voice.

“Never seen them before today. I moved in today anyway,” He says. He doesn’t really feel like talking about what else they said. Besides, no need to explain his problems to Roman if he didn’t hear about him.

“Ah, another brave soul looking into the unknown. I moved in just last week. I was tasked with renovating the theater,” Roman says, and Virgil snickers because of his dramatics. Is this guy for real?

“Now do you have someone looking over you here or…”

“Virgil!”

Patton comes running from the pizzeria, pizza boxes slinging around in a tin plastic bag.

“Virgil, god kiddo I was worried when I didn’t see you outside the pizza place. You alright?”

Virgil nods. “yeah Patton, no problem. Roman helped me,”

Patton finally seems to notice Roman, who in his turn holds out a hand for Patton to shake.

“Roman Kingston, nice to meet you mister. I was just wondering where his parents could be,”

“No mister please. Just Patton. And I am not his father, just his uncle,” Patton says shyly.

“You seem like a cool uncle, Patton. Now I don’t know exactly what happened, but these two boys dragged him away, saying something about teaching him how to be a girl?” Roman says. Well, so far for Roman not knowing Virgil thought. Patton looked at Virgil worriedly, but Virgil only nodded.

“I scared those assholes away, but do you know if there is any reason they might have come after Virgil?”

Patton wants to speak up, but Virgil is quicker.

“I’m trans, and they couldn’t understand that I am a boy,”

Roman looks up to Virgil, surprised, but then his eyes fills with rage and sorrow. Virgil is afraid Roman is about to smash something to pieces, but he just takes a deep breath and focuses on Virgil again.

“I’m sorry. But please let me tell you that you are such a brave knight! Fighting for his own kingdom!”

Virgil snickers again. Apparently this guy is indeed for real. Patton is also doing his best to stifle a laugh.

“Now, I have to go, but please feel welcome to drop by the theater any time! I can use some god manpower because that place is a mess,” Roman says. Patton shakes up.

“Oh so you bought the old theater! I am so glad that it is in good hands. There were some rumors going around that it would be broken down,” He says to Roman

“I would never destroy a place of the arts. Now, it was nice meeting you! Hope to see you!” Roman says while walking away.

Patton stays silent for a few moments, but then he hears a small snicker from besides him. Virgil is doing his absolute best to contain his laughter, but is failing miserably. Just when he is starting to calm down, he looks the way Roman just walked away and whispered something.

“Sure, Princey,”

The laughter starts all over again.

#alone together au #sanders sides fic #sanders sides #Virgil Sanders #patton sanders #roman sanders #trans!virgil #thomas sanders #cassie can write #tw: transphobia #tw: harrasment #tw: panic attack #tw: food

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copiouscouples · 5 years

Text

Brio Head Canon Part 2

Rio’s POV

If you’d asked Rio weeks ago if he thought he’d be working with 3 housewives, he’d have told you hell no. Yet here he was having these broads laundering his cash for him at Cloud 9 superstores.

It was all because of her...Beth...Elizabeth. She’d left a string of pearls signaling her interest in his line of work and he’d been intrigued by her ever since. A better word might be obsessed. He didn’t choose the stalker life. The stalker life chose him. He couldn’t shake this middle class white lady out of his head. He kept perpetual tabs on her and when she called he always had time to meet up with her.

She was pretty cute with all her little entrepreneurial ideas. Don’t get him wrong they were terrible ideas. Who needed Botox? And since when was money laundering a good idea as a pyramid scheme? But he got a big kick at seeing her face light up as she pitched to him. She was trying. She wasn’t satisfied with status quo and he had to respect that.

And man did he love to look at her. Mmmm. That frame, those curves. Just thinking of her now made him bite his lip. The things he would like to do to her.

Not that he would. Nonconsensual sex wasn’t really his thing. He knew the effect he had on women and wasn’t alone unless he wanted to be.

His girl sure made a lot of mistakes. Buying that necklace with his money was one of them (although it looked good nestled between her breasts like that and he had had half a mind to let her keep it as long as she wore it and nothing else).

Her rotten egg was another. If it were anyone else, he’d make them take care of it themselves. But because it was Elizabeth...he’d handle it. He just knew she’d never be able to kill anyone.

But that woman was stubborn. Wouldn’t give him a name. Fine. He’d let her handle it. She was probably gettin’ taken to the cleaners just to keep the rotten egg from snitching. Rio chuckled. She didn’t want his help, wanted to be the boss. Then, she’d have to learn to live with the consequences.

Rio never got too worried about the FBI, but Elizabeth was starting to. He met up with her and discovered just how on edge she was about the whole thing. She asked him what she should say. And his dumb mouth suggests “tell them I was hittin’ it” and then he proceeds to tease her about making love and making sure she made him sound good. Why the hell was he advertising how much he wanted her? He remembered her flushed face and grinned as he realized it was worth it.

He decided to shut things down for a bit and Elizabeth was chomping at the bit. She was jonesing to get back in the game. He didn’t quite understand why. He figured it was probably partly financial, but there was something else too. He bet she loved the thrill of it...the power...the danger...just like him.

Then, they were back in business. And he had a special errand for Elizabeth. He thought he’d kill two birds with one stone. Get Elizabeth back in the game and see if he had a snitch on his hands.

He didn’t expect her response. She was heated because she thought he’d let her get caught by the cops. She didn’t trust him. If she didn’t trust him, then there was no point in them working together anymore. After her little hissy fit and throwing of the keys, he was done. His interest in her had given her too much power. He was just realizing now how deep he was in it. Hell, he might be developing feelings for this broad.

Then, she goes and asks when. When he was gonna kill her? Was this woman out of her mind? Didn’t she know? He shook his head and reined in his anger as best as he could. No. He needed her to go home now or he might regret what he would say.

And when the Feds got him - he was more hurt than surprised. He knew exactly who it was who’d turned him in

And when he made bail, he knew exactly whose house to visit. But she wasn’t there...that husband of hers was instead. And with the way he was feeling he was itching for a fight. He took his anger out on Dan or Dick or whatever the hell his name was. Then, he waited.

Finally, she came home. And she was surprised by the sight in front of her. He slid his gun over to her and dared her to shoot him. She wanted to be free of him? She’d have to kill him first.

Yet he knew her. He knew she wasn’t a killer. Knew she wouldn’t have the guts to shoot him. Nah, he just wanted to see her squirm...torture her a little. But that bottom lip of hers trembled and all sense left his mind. Before he knew it he reached out to caress her face. This woman who’d caused him a hell of a lot of problems...and he was touching her face and speaking soothing words to her like some kind of fool. He wasn’t no chump. Rage at the way she affected him surged through him as he turned around and put a bullet through her husband. He wouldn’t hurt a hair on her head, but she had to learn he wasn’t one to be messed with. And shooting her husband seemed the best way to send the message.

He debated introducing Elizabeth to Marcus, but decided in the end that she had to know that she wasn’t the only one with a family. If she screwed him over, she was screwing over his son too. She looked straight up shocked to see him with his kid. Was it that unbelievable for him to be a parent?

Rio kept her in his sight over the next week. He’d pass the job of taking care of Boomer over to her. He probably should have one of his boys handle it, but he still hadn’t forgiven Elizabeth for what she’d done. She owed him. Plus her killing Boomer would give him just the right amount of leverage to make sure she didn’t rat him out again.

He wasn’t surprised and not even mad when he discovered that she hadn’t killed the grocery store manager. He’d listened to her cock and bull story about how she’d murdered him and color him impressed. That woman could lie like no other. It made him wonder how much she lied to him.

Later he watched as she single handedly replaced a stop sign. She walked over to him afterwards and crumpled. She confessed to feeling tired of the situation and tired of lying to him. She was so vulnerable. Whenever she looked at him with those doe eyes of hers, she practically turned him into mush. He felt a need to protect her, to solve all her problems for her, and that fool hand of his found its way to her face again. He should be mad that she hadn’t gotten the job done but he found he wasn’t. Although it did irritate him that she asked him again if he was going to kill her. Instead, he responded with “I’m gonna teach you.”

So he gave her a few lessons on gun handling. She was ready. She could do it. Did he think she would do it? He wasn’t so sure. He knew she didn’t really want to but she always found a way to get things done.

And girl got lucky. Somebody else did the dirty work for her. She just had to dispose of the body. But Elizabeth had handled her business. In his eyes, she was definitely becoming a boss.

So he had a test for her. He’d hand over his business to her for a bit and see what she’d do with it. A lot of her ideas were crap, but some of them could actually be good.

She’d tried to give him the keys back but he knew it was just too tempting for her to resist. Try as she might she wouldn’t be able to stay away from that storage unit.

And try as he might he wasn’t able to resist her. He could sense her the second she’d walked into the bar that night with that shady husband of hers. He tried to focus on his drink but her eyes were boring into the back of his head. And when he turned to look she was twirling that hair of hers around her finger. Basically begging him to do her right now. “Aw, sh--” he muttered. He was done for. There was no way he was gonna be able to resist the opportunity to get his hands on all her lushness.

He really should refuse. This woman was sketchy as hell. She lied to him, ratted on him, stole from him... He should stay as far away from her as possible. But when she headed toward that bathroom. He knew without a doubt he’d be following her into it.

When he stepped into the bathroom, he didn’t move, didn’t say anything. He just waited for her. Y’know maybe she just wanted to talk business. That thought quickly left his mind as Elizabeth hiked the hem of her dress up giving him the most tempting view ever.

From that point on, he needed no further encouragement and his willpower was gone. He had to touch her and touch her he did. HIs fingers shot straight for a moundful of boob. She felt as amazing as he’d imagined her to feel.

Fifteen minutes later, he finished buckling his belt and exited the bathroom. While it wasn’t the smartest decision he’d made, he regretted nothing. He’d just experienced heaven on earth.

But the thing was he couldn’t stop thinking about her. Now that he’d had a taste...he wanted more. So he headed over to that little car dealership of hers and let her husband know in no uncertain terms that they were partners now. Not him and Dean, but him and Elizabeth. He also wanted to let that clown know that he’d had his wife...twice, but Elizabeth’s eyes had pleaded with him. And yet again he was putty in her hands.

As they worked together, he found it harder and harder to keep his hands to himself. He wanted her again, but he didn’t want to want her and he sure as hell didn’t want her to know how badly he wanted her so he kept bringing it up but always made it sound like a joke. If she wanted to bang again, he would 100% be down for it.

But then she’d found out about the drugs in the cars. She was too clever and inquisitive for her own good. And now she’d screwed him out of 50% of profits. He was pissed at being got (not to mention more than a little hungry for her) and so he’d responded with a lewd suggestion about doing her on the desk. That had not gone over well and she practically gloated over getting more than she’d even wanted.

Fearing that Elizabeth was making him go soft, he had to work extra hard to keep up the front that all that was going on between them was just business. If he wasn’t careful, she’d become his Achilles heel. They’d talk about drops and nothing more.

Except when she’d come to him sick with worry over her daughter and crying about some stupid thing her daughter had left in the car, his whipped ass just had to go and get what she was missing. A blanket? Was she for real?

There was no way anything remotely good could come of this. If he knew what was good for him, he’d get her out of his life as quickly as possible. But he’d never been good at doing what he should do.

#brio #nbc good girls

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razieltwelve · 5 years

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Partners (RWBY AU Snippet)

Once upon a time, Yang had dreamed of being able to transform into a dragon. Reality, however, had shown that being able to turn into a dragon wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows. A lot of the time, it was actually pretty horrible.

Whenever she went anywhere, she had to worry about would-be heroes trying to win fame by defeating her. Most of them got the message after a little bit of mangling and some singeing, but some of them had proven to be incredibly (some would say stupidly) stubborn.

Then there was all the shrieking and wailing that went on whenever she stopped at a village. It didn’t matter that she was perfectly happy to hand over some money for a cow or two to snack on. All villagers saw was a dragon, and the ones that didn’t run away screaming at the top of their lungs went after her with stakes and pitchforks. It was actually kind of sad. Stabbing her with a pitchfork wasn’t going to do anything except break the pitchfork, and most villagers needed their pitchforks to make a living or to drive off real villains like the occasional vampire or non-law-abiding werewolf.

And then there were the wizards who were obsessed with enslaving her and bending her to their will. She dealt with at least one of those a month although she had recently invited a dozen of them to do their worst. It had taken her about five minutes to incinerate the lot of them, so hopefully, she wouldn’t have to deal with anymore of that silliness for at least a year or so. It turned out that wizards were highly flammable and somewhat vulnerable to being clawed or bitten.

But as troublesome as turning into a dragon could be, it did have its perks. Normally, being caught in pouring rain would have been a fairly miserable experience, but dragons had nothing to worry about. Her fire kept her warm no matter how cold it was, and her scales were more than adequate for standing up to the rain. All she needed was a nice hill to rest against, and she’d be set. Flying in rain was fine, but being struck by lightning sucked. It wasn’t like the lightning could kill her, but falling out of the sky was not something she enjoyed.

Alas, being a dragon also meant she was bereft of company. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. A family of enterprising squirrels had decided to take shelter in the shadow she cast after a bolt of lightning had destroyed their tree. They would probably go look for a new tree once the weather died down, but they’d apparently realised that if she wasn’t going to eat them, then being near her was their best option since all of their predators had decided to give her a wide, wide birth. Sadly, though, squirrels did not make for good conversation partners.

Her musing were interrupted when the squirrels began to cast furtive looks around before scampering up her side and glaring in the direction of a bush. Yang’s eyes narrowed, and she reached out with her senses. Like most shape shifters, she could sense when another shape shifter was close. Interesting. Flame kindled in her jaws. If this newcomer was peaceful, she wouldn’t mind talking to them. But if they wanted to make trouble, there weren’t many things more dangerous than a giant, flying, fire-breathing reptile with impenetrable scales and claws and teeth that could tear through the walls of a castle.

Her concerns evaporated a moment later as the other shape shifter stepped into view… as a cute, cuddly black cat that looked absolutely miserable since it was completely and utterly drenched from the rain.

Yang gave a low rumble of greeting. One of the first things she’d learned as a dragon was how to project her thoughts and read the thoughts of others. It was an essential skill since dragons couldn’t really use language in the normal way and roaring at people had a tendency to terrify them, which was usually not helpful. She’d even given one poor fellow a heart attack while asking for directions.

The rain sucks, huh? Yang projected.

The black cat startled for a moment before stopping and staring. Evidently, the other shape shifter had been so intent on finding shelter that she’d somehow managed to miss the giant golden dragon draped over the hillside. Please, don’t eat me.

Yang gave the draconic equivalent of a laugh, and the squirrels made angry sounds as her shoulder shook with mirth. She wasn’t about to eat a fellow shape shifter for no reason, and it wasn’t like a cat would even suffice for a meal anyway. Given how big Yang was as a dragon, anything smaller than a cow was basically finger food. Don’t worry about it. Are you looking for shelter? Yang gestured with her wing. It was every bit as good as a proper roof given its size.

The cat eyed her warily for a moment before making a decision. Do you mind if I stick around? I can only change into a cat, and this weather...

It’s not exactly good for cats, is it? Yang nodded. Sure. Stick around. I could use someone to talk to.

The cat settled under Yang’s wing before moving over to lean against Yang’s side. Like most dragons, Yang radiated warmth. The squirrels gave the cat a suspicious look before settling back under Yang’s wing, albeit as far away from the cat as possible. Thanks. I’m Blake.

I’m Yang. So… why are you wandering around as a cat? A human form would be more convenient in this weather.

Blake huffed. I can’t change back. One of my… enemies did something to me, and now, I’m stuck as a cat.

Well, that sucks. Yang leaned over and peered at Blake. How long have you been stuck as a cat?

About a week. Blake shuddered. I’ve almost been eaten four times, and I just managed to escape the house of some crazy person who wouldn’t let me leave.

Yang scratched her own belly with one gigantic claw. You can stick with me if you want. I’m about to head home, and there’s a good chance someone in my family can help you. My uncle knows more about shape shifting than almost anyone.

Are you sure? Blake made a face. Aren’t you worried about me tricking you or something?

Blake, I’m a one-hundred-and-fifty-feet-long dragon. If you try to stab me in the back, I will laugh very loudly before setting you on fire and eating you.

Blake grimaced. When you put it that way… point taken. She paused. But how do I know I can trust you?

Blake, if I wanted to eat you, you’d be eaten. Like I said, I’m a dragon.

X X X

A few days later…

Ruby looked up from the cow she’d been in the middle of eating. A very pretty - but very angry - young woman with pale hair and blue eyes was pointing a crossbow at her.

“Unhand my cow, cretin!”

Ruby dropped the cow and opened her mouth to explain. What she wanted to say was: I am so sorry. I was really hungry, and I promise I will pay for the cow. Alas, as she was currently in her werewolf form, the only sound that came out was: “GRAAARGH!”

“So be it, vile fiend. I, Weiss Schnee, Scion of the House of Schnee shall defeat you.”

Since Ruby had no intention of being shot by a crossbow, she did the first thing she could think of. She slapped the crossbow out of Weiss’s hands. Again, she wanted to say something. In this case: Could you please not point your crossbow at me? Once again, however, she’d forgotten that she was still in her werewolf form. What came out of her mouth was: “RAAAAAARGH!”

Naturally, because Ruby’s luck had never been stellar, that was when Weiss’s sister arrived. Seeing a large werewolf knock the crossbow out of her sister’s hand before roaring, Winter came to the only logical conclusion. Clearly, the werewolf was a foul beast intent on devouring her sister alive.

“Begone, fiend!” Winter cried, levelling her own crossbow at Ruby as Weiss scrambled to draw her sword. “For you now face two daughters of the House of Schnee! Call upon whatever allies you wish, no evil can withstand our combined might!”

Ruby was seriously considering beating a tactical retreat - because as pretty as the two women were, they were heavily armed - when she caught sight of a most welcome shape in the sky.

“Distract it,” Winter ordered Weiss as she tried to move into Ruby’s blind spot. “This werewolf might be big, but we should be able to defeat it if we work…”

Winter fell silent as a massive shadow fell over the area. Weiss followed her gaze and gave a small, panicked squeak of horror as a huge golden dragon landed behind the werewolf. There was a black cat perched on one of its shoulders and a family of squirrels on the other.

Were you two pointing weapons at my little sister? The dragon growled. Because that would make me very mad.

It was at that point that Weiss did the only thing she could think of that might get them out of the situation alive. She lowered her sword and nudged the half-eaten cow toward the werewolf. “Please, forgive us for interrupting your meal. My sister and I will just be on our way and…”

Weiss and Winter’s attempt to retreat came to an abrupt end as the dragon’s long, serpentine tail flicked out to tear a gash in the earth behind them. How kind of you. But lunch is so much better with company. You’ll stay and talk, won’t you?

X X X

Author’s Notes

Dragons, werewolves, cats, squirrels, who knows what’ll happen next. Let me know if you’d like to see this snippet continue.

You can find me on fanfiction.net, AO3, and Amazon.

#rwby #fanfiction #yang xiao long #ruby rose #weiss schnee #blake belladonna #winter schnee

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aw-tryagain · 6 years

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Wow

People really don’t like hearing the truth about what they do and it shows. How can y’all misinterpret what I was saying THAT badly??

Like this was just my final straw I am done with the fandom. Y’all are all so damn ignorant and petty. Y’all will literally hate on someone for doing what you do! How does that make sense?! I’m just tired of y’all and have been for such a long time now and have been less and less involved in this fandom as time went on because I too began to notice things about how yall act and treat each other and yes y’all really are all so fake and after this whole shit show I just can’t do it anymore. Lol like I knew twilight was shitty but there were still a lot of things I loved about the series and I saw so much potential in it and I recognized the shitty parts and also tried to change them to make it better and that’s what a lot of people or pretty much everyone does in this fandom, but y’all just don’t recognize the shitty parts. Y’all try to excuse it. Especially when it comes to the main characters. Y’all will literally jump through hoops to excuse or just flat out ignore Alices racism and how she treats Bella. Y’all will excuse/flat out ignore Edwards fucked up abusive actions towards Bella yet will turn around and vilify Jacob for kissing her without her permission and guilt tripping/manipulating her too. Yall vehemently hate the shit out of Jacob (and are sometimes really racist about it) and will make posts/headcnons/au’s of the cullens beating him up a native brown boy for basically doing to Bella what they literally do to her through the entire series, take away her bodily autonomy and choices and manipulate her. Yall make posts about old white racist people literally beating up a 16 year old Native American boy and jack off to that shit and be racist all while y’alls precious whites can do anything they want to Bella because nothing the Cullens ever do is wrong. Y’all are literally playing right into the hands of that racist author SM and what she wanted and what she pushed so hard in the series you’d have to be blind not to see.. and you don’t see it.

Y’all still perpetuate the bs Meyer pushed and are all so ignorant because Jacob wasn’t like that at first and was never supposed to be like that. Meyer ruins every character she touches ESPECIALLY when it comes to poc but instead of looking at that y’all would rather act like assholes and treat people who like these characters and want to remake them in their own image like shit. Yet you all want people to stop calling you racist for loving and excusing Jaspers time in the confederacy and let you all redeem him and his actions. There was a whole fandom fight about this exact thing when someone called out the racist shit these people were doing regarding Jacob and the Cullens and guess what y’all did? Y’all tried to not only defend what y’all were doing but also tried to defend the fact that Jasper was a literal confederate soldier. Like, Jasper was one of my favorite characters but that doesn’t excuse what he was. You people are the most hypocritical people I’ve ever met. Y’all can make excuses for Jasper being a confederate and say “oh well he learned from that! He’s not a racist!” and y’all can make headcanons trying to redeem him but don’t seem to wanna redeem him from the problematic things he does in the series to this day which y’all seem to always leave out and forget. Y’all can say “oh Meyers and idiot! She didn’t know what she was doing! Jasper should have been a union soldier!” and all types of shit but nobody can do the same for Jacob who was actually fucked over by Meyer and made to do problematic things not only because he was the rival but also because Meyer loves making poc the villains all the time? How can y’all not see that?

Y’all make excuses up the wall for the precious Cullens fucked up actions and will gladly blame the author and not the character for it and will attack anyone who thinks otherwise but when it comes to anyone else? especially poc? It’s time to hate them and treat them and anyone who likes them and tries to actually redeem them from their racist biased author, like shit. It’s funny how we’re supposed to love the confederate soldier who willingly fought for slavery and quickly rose through the ranks in the army and seems proud of that fact when recalling it in Eclipse and he’s just so smart and practical and calculative and is such a great leader and thinks things through and is able to convince others easily and get them to follow him because he’s so charming but we’re also supposed to feel bad for him and hate the Mexican woman who “manipulated” him and lied to him and of course she’s painted as some kind of evil seductress who manipulates the poor defenseless mindless white man that we all must coddle. I italicized those words bc that is supposed to be his characterization. People who are calculative and smart and good leaders aren’t so easily manipulated and aren’t so easily trusting, and don’t fall for one obvious lie for 100 years! Idc what anyone says nobody can keep up a simple ass lie for that long especially when with just a little more thought put into it, the lie can be debunked so easily bc the truth is right there. Also in the end he had the power. He could do what he wanted with his own body and he chose to do what he did. We’re not gonna blame the woman for the actions of the man. Yes she had a part in it and influencing it but there is no way he couldn’t have felt the deception and do nothing about it or at least feel some type of way about it. If he’s so strong and powerful and dangerous and controlled all those newborns and is so much stronger and better than María why didn’t he stage an uprising or something? Don’t give me that “he didn’t know what he was doing” excuse. It’s the same tired ass excuse y’all use for him being apart of the confederation and it makes no sense. He was able to think for himself (and apparently has a strong smart vampire brain) and do for himself and literally had power over himself and others. This is literally me saying that the shit doesn’t add up from what we know from canon. It doesn’t make sense and I’m calling out the plot holes and why it doesn’t make any sense and why it should be taken with a grain of salt. Because it’s bullshit.

This is NOT me saying “men can’t be abused” or some other shit y’all want to put into my mouth. Like you guys do all the time. But of course he didn’t actively choose to make any of those decisions and act upon it on his own, no it’s all the woman (Maria’s) fault for every single thing he did. He was completely mindless and stupid and didn’t stop to think about anything once. I am in NO way saying that María wasn’t wrong for the lie that she told him or the manipulation or whatever it’s definitely wrong but it’s also unfair that she is the only being hated for it when the main characters do the same shit?! Yet everyone ignores it because it’s not abuse when they lie and manipulate. It’s unfair that people who like her and see the error in the way she was created and want to change that or whatever and ship her with Jasper get hate for it yet you guys can do the exact same thing with your faves and their issues? THATS WHAT IM CALLING OUT! I’m not mad bc y’all “don’t ship abuse�� I’m mad because you’re all hypocrites and you all fail to see it. It’s said that she did lie and manipulation and it’s “implied” as abuse and people take that little bit of info and run with it (like they do a lot) and make it out like María is the worst person ever to walk the earth and was lying to him constantly about every little thing ever and was sexually abusing him and was physically beating him even tho NONE of this is EVER stated in canon. Y’all vilify the shit out of her (the hate gets so bad I’ve seen people literally act like she’s dirty and impure and beneath compared to the special white savior and all bc she’s the manipulative colored rival and that’s ANOTHER place where the racist undertones come to play.) bc Meyer painted them as this turbulent problematic relationship with the bad colored promiscuous sexually deviant woman and then Jasper finds a pure white woman and they have the bestest, healthiest relationship ever. They don’t tho. Alice lies to him too. Alice lies to him a lot in the saga and actively keeps things from him. Alice talks down to him and teams up with Edward and is on his side all the time to treat him like a child and basically act like he’ll never be as good as them when it comes to bloodlust (Edward legit says this shit about him but yeah this family is sooo loving and they believe in him soo much blow me.) She kicks him and stomps on his foot when he has thoughts or does something that isn’t ~Cullen like~ and that’s okay? That’s supportive? Jasper himself manipulates her emotions without her permission and tells her to not worry about important people that are supposed to be “family” and manhandles her when she had that vision and this is supposed to be so much better? This is supposed to be one of the best relationships in the saga because ~mates~ and tru wuv?! Their whole courtship and mating doesn’t even make a lick of sense why would he go into a diner? full of people? Especially if he was hungry?! That doesn’t make sense! How could she have possibly had a vision of him? and then automatically assumed she was supposed to be his ~mate~ that makes even less sense, and they’re incompatible and are pretty scummy to each other but it’s disguised as pure mated mystical love, by Meyer.

We’re supposed to like it and it’s supposed to be great but it’s not and I don’t because I see holes and I’m not falling for Meyers bullshit excuses to cover her own ass; we know Meyer has a problem with showing vs. telling but we also know she has a problem with making things that are supposed to be good look terrible. but his relationship with the big bad Mexican is the one that’s completely wrong and supposed to be feared? He has more in common with said Mexican woman and pretty much acts just like her! He went along with her and what she wanted and didn’t stop and think about what the fuck he was doing and he’s known to do this in canon because he literally said that he did the same thing with Alice. He was made to feel powerful and capable even if what he was doing wasn’t morally sound. Also omg over time they eventually began to have some real feelings for each other from their little relationship they had on the side or whatever and to this day they’re still friends with each other and Jasper thinks about her from time to time and wishes her well. They actually GREW to be friends and actually had some kind of development and progress in their relationship. Their okay with each other now even with their turbulent past and Jasper doesn’t hate her. Like at all and you mean to tell me that’s bad? It’s just horribly abusive and people have no right to ship it or even like it and/or indulge in it because they may see some potential with what Meyer did with them and want to build on that and improve it??? We ALL know Meyer creates a lot of things, characters, plot points with soo much potential but always ruins it and people in fandom see that and want to change it and love it and bring out that potential but when it comes to certain characters and ships (mainly involving poc) that’s off limits? Yet y’all do the same thing with yalls boring ass white canon characters and ships or just ignore the ships/characters issues in general??? But feel like y’all got the right to play god and be all high and mighty and holier than thou and viciously attack people for doing what y’all want to do??

Now That’s a fucking joke.

Not only is it a joke it’s also unfair. Who tf are y’all to dictate what someone can and can’t like/indulge in??? and I love how everyone wants to claim “oh I don’t ship Edward/Bella Jasper/Alice etc... bullshit! All y’all do is talk about them and make headcanons and au’s and shit that’s what this fandom mostly consists of, quit fucking backtracking and lying. This doesn’t even begin to explain all things wrong with this hypocritical ass fandom but this rant is more so related to what just happened that was my last straw and made me leave that ignorant ass shitshow of a fandom.

You people read that whole passage that I wrote calling out unfair treatment and fucked up behavior and you STILL just watered it down to “oh they’re just mad because we don’t ship abuse” YES YALL DO! and that’s the problem!!! You guys HATE it when people talk shit about y’all and look down on y’all for liking twilight and tell y’all not to like it bc it’s riddled with abuse and manipulation regarding the main characters and you all come up with your own excuses and reasons (however valid or not they may be) for still liking and indulging in it and trying to fix. Yet you turn around and do the same thing to your own people in the fandom who only ask for/want the same thing y’all ask/want from twi-haters? I was calling out y’all hypocritical actions that is sometimes rooted in racism and how it’s fucked up! I was also calling out how y’all vehemently disrespected, mocked and attacked a real life human person and egged on the op for childishly being a dick to someone for no reason and you all made fun of them for VERY POLITELY requesting something Jasper/Maria related and yet y’all call yourselves nice and accepting? If you didn’t want to do it you could have just kindly told them that you didn’t want to do it. You didn’t have to make a joke moodboard post acting like you’re disgusted (funny how we all must be disgusted with the dirty impure Mexican lol) and the rest of y’all didn’t have to reblog it acting like op was so smart and funny and putting shit in the tags like “why do people ship them lol” “like grow a braincell pls” or “open ur mind” like y’all need to open your minds and realize y’all ain’t shit for that and it WRONG! It was RUDE! Wanna ask “why do people ship them” why do YOU ship shit like Edward/Bella, Jacob/Bella, Jasper/Alice, Victoria/James etc...?? Y’all collectively froth over Victoria and excuse her yet she did. the. exact. same. shit!! Albiet badly, but Come ON! now it’s suddenly okay and excuseable when you throw some white skin on it? Why do YOU even like TWILIGHT if it’s riddled with so much shit?! Racism, sexism, homophobia. If anyone needs to “grow a braincell” it’s y’all. Also yes, let’s attack people and call them dumb and stupid all for what they ship. That’s good. Yet y’all have been attacked your whole lives for liking twilight and can’t seem to make that connection. Once y’all get a little bit of recognition and power y’all wanna act exactly like the people that mistreated y’all to other innocent people that just want to be involved because they think you guys are cool. Y’all are so fucking backwards smh you people suck so fucking hard man.

Fuck the twilight fandom and fuck twilight. Y’all have ruined something I actually used to enjoy by being such nasty hypocritical turds about everything that isn’t white and popular and what you all like. You can’t be different or have different thoughts or unpopular opinions. Though y’all always say that you can, you can’t. The minute you even say anything about the Cullens that yall don’t like or the minute you ship anything that y’all don’t like, or have an opinion on a character or trope that y’all don’t like y’all get to shading and vague posting and mobbing up talking mad shit. You are all so damn fake and I hope and pray y’all get what’s coming to yall for being such nasty disgusting people and yes maybe I did come on a little too strong the first time and should have handled it better and spoken better and been more respectful but after being here for so many years and knowing y’all? That shit wouldn’t have worked. Y’all still would have reacted with viciousness and bullshit and miss the entire point. It’s what y’all constantly do. Look at what y’all do to people who politely ask for something you may not want to do??? If that’s how y’all react to innocent people then imma honestly pray for y’all. I repeat the same energy people give out and I repeated y’all nasty ass energy in my response and if you don’t like it you need to look at yourself and y’all need to stop pointing the fucking finger all the damn time. Grow the fuck up. Also if people really wanna insult me for writing PARAGRAPHS about shit YALL do? Not only is that the dumbest most useless fucking insult I’ve ever seen but it also reflects on y’all because of the simple fact that I have to write paragraphs calling out the shit y’all do and putting it in detail because y’all don’t know how to fucking read and comprehend shit, and YALL STILL MISSED MY POINT!!! That is... just wow. 🤦🏾‍♀️

Imagine being that dumb!

#jasper hale #the twilight saga #twilight #twilight saga #jasper whitlock #twilight renissance #tts #twilight fandom #fandom racism #fandom bullshit #yeah im done here #i cant take so much dumbssery in one place #yall come up with the stupidest conclusions sometimes to save your own ass #so you can continue being delisonal idiotas #im finished with this fandom fuck yall #fuck yall and fuck this

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