#kotlc mini fic

[crymeariveronceagain]

i had this idea a long while ago but forgot about it until just now,

what if Veka where to get pregnant with twins? or TRIPLETS? just as a karma thing

Stinas getting a redemption Arc but her parents aren’t, i don’t think they’d react like the Songs did. i think they’d love their kids but would need to a full 180 on their view on multiples.

omg that's amazing and i'm completely here for it

.

Vika Heks, in abject horror, watching the ultrasound.

There's no running away from this.

Her husband clutches her hand tight.

She can't feel it.

Three children.

Three.

For a grand total of four.

Three too many.

Three too much.

Three was a number that was worse than two, and two was infinitely worse than one.

And now, here she was, sitting in a chair at the doctor's, listening to the man tell her he was sorry that she was going to have three too many. Like he could control it, like the stars frowned on him like they frowned on her, like he could do anything about it.

There were three people that belonged to her now, three new ones she'd never met.

The world would hate them, would spit in their face, would call them as they were, the multiples of a bad match, destined to ruin the gene pool.

It was all her fault.

There wasn't anything she could do.

Rumors can't be silenced after they've been proven, and if she had triplets, then stars, she could never expect the lies of matchmaking to cover the very reality she lived in.

So what could she do?

What could she change? What could she fix? This didn't belong to her, anymore.

This belonged to her children.

Her three children.

Her responsibility.

She had always prided herself upon being a good mother, and just because the stars had whispered something wrong for her, because they'd been frowning down on her, meant nothing.

This was out of her hands, and she would not stop being a good mother simply because a challenge had been dealt her.

It would take uprooting, changing, declaring, accepting.

The thought was horrifying. Terror piled in her chest, hot and fast, and this was out of her control.

Her heart was pounding in her ears, she couldn't breathe, the doctor's looking at her with disdain, his demeanor completely shifted from what it had been mere moments ago.

"I'm sorry, Ma'am. You're carrying triplets."

Vika shut her eyes tight, her hands clenching into fists.

Then she took a deep, steadying breath.

And before she could think about it any more.

She just said.

"Okay."

Her husband's grip loosened on her hand, and he looked at her with a sort of pride that made her soul feel like it could crush the world if it wanted.

The doctor blinked. "I beg your pardon?"

"Okay," Vika said. "I'm having triplets. What's your point?"

The doctor raised his eyebrows. "Usually parents are more distressed by the news, and want to see our options for sending kids to Exilium right away--"

"Out of the question," Vika snapped, her voice fierce. "And you should know, sir, that we are not most parents."

The doctor snorted, turning back to the monitor. "You certainly are not."

Vika stepped into the foyer of Sterling Gables later that day and turned to her husband. "Tim," she said, softly, "Are we going to be okay?"

Timkin Heks smiled, gently, looking at his wife. "I think, Love, we have to be."

"They're not going to like this," Vika said, "No one is."

"No one has a choice," Timkin answered, fiercely. "These are our children, and they cannot make us feel ashamed of them."

Vika sighed, softly, and reached for her husband's hand. "What do you think Stina will think?"

"I think she'll be appalled, but she'll get over it."

"Good," Vika answered. "We raised her right, then."

"Well," Timkin said, "Like everybody else, she doesn't have much of a choice."

That night, when Stina had finally went to bed, Vika sat on the couch next to her husband.

"I just realized something," she said, quietly, into the silence, broken only with page-flipping.

"What?"

"We need more than one baby name."

"Oh. Rats."

[bookwyrminspiration]

do you have any favorite kotlc fics? besides your own ofc :)

I do! I may not read a ton of fics, but I can try to put together a mini rec list :)

This Peace is Worth Everything by @synonymroll648; an absolutely delightful sokeefitz piece featuring Fitz and Keefe ditching to take care of a sick Sophie

The Keefe Collection by @vildefol; a series of different short pieces featuring Keefe's POV of different moments throughout the series. absolutely adore everything here!!

death, she is cunning and clever as hell (and she’ll eat you alive) by @moonlarked; a quick exploration of Tam's character in the aftermath of a very serious decision, which I love

A lesson in running away (the art of returning) by @when-wax-wings-melt; I actually haven't finished this one yet, but a devastatingly emotional keefitz fic comprised mostly of letters around the same time as Stellarlune (it is highly poetic)

Late-Night Gingerbread by @silveny-dreams; a lovely little fic about Sophie longing for home and making gingerbread with Keefe and Edaline in the middle of the night to satisfy the ache

Only in my darkest moments (can I see the light) by @xanadaus; a coming out/exploration fic for Sophie, who's boyfriends are very helpful through the process. incredibly sweet

And she means everything to me by @xanadaus; A sophiana flower shop au with some emotional ups and downs, but adorable characterizations

better off as lovers (and not the other way around) by @aphelea; delightfully angsty qualden fic about their tumultuous relationship and internalized homophobia

like forever (in a day) by @aphelea; tiergan and prentice spend their final day together before his mind is broken, trying to make the most of the time. devastatingly emotional

and pray when the summer ends by @cadence-talle; a sophiana summer camp au with such fun dynamics and interactions alongside touching emotional depth and conversations

cognate rings by @gay-otlc; a positively delightful (read: a little angsty) aro fitz piece! explores his and sophie's relationship and his internal struggle, which I'm quite fond of

Civility and Cluelessness by @everliving-everblaze; a gen (epilogue sophitz) royalty/medieval au! I must admit the actual contents of this fic have escaped me because it's been a while, but I read it while it was coming out and remember loving it :)

I'll stop there for now, but there's so many other talented fic writers in the fandom making absolute masterpieces! so don't think for a second this is an exhaustive list--and please do check out the other work by all these authors as well!

[linh-cindy]

My Masterlist!

hello you human being! welcome to my masterlist! this is where all my fics, fan arts and headcanons are <3

intro post

Fanfictions: the lunar chronicles

May I Have This Dance? - Kaider, Fluff, Angst, Comfort

Shining Brown Eyes - Kaider, Fluff (Possibly will become mini series)

An Unexpected Rejection - Kaider, fluff

The Hunger Games x The Lunar Chronicles AU

The Tributes (Part 1)

The Celebration (Part 2)

Game On (Part 3)

The Interview (Part 4)

Fan Arts the lunar chronicles

Cinder as Sae-byeok from Squid Game (digital)

Kaider [IN PROGRESS] (digital)

WinterxCinder/Selene (manual)

Iko! (manual)

Cinder and Cress as Gamers (digital)

Cress (digital)

Winter (digital)

Iko #2 - (manual)

Headcanons the lunar chronicles

First Crush - Kaider

Iko’s Obsession of dying Cress’s hair - Iko + Cress

Songs the lunar chronicles

tlc songs masterlist

kotlc songs masterlist

[you-have-been-frizzled]

25. What is a weird, hyper-specific detail you know about one of your characters that is completely irrelevant to the story?

18. Choose a passage from your writing. Tell me about the backstory of this moment. How you came up with it, how it changed from start to end. Spicy addition: Questioner provides the passage.

17. Talk to me about the minutiae of your current WIP. Tell me about the lore, the history, the detail, the things that won’t make it in the text.

For writing asks?

25.

that Kesler and Juline watch X files, it wasn’t relevant to the fic it was in, considering the age group of the kotlc fandom, i doubt anyone other than me and the one kotlc/X files mutual has watched it (though you guys should because it’s awesome). but it’s important to me

18.

there’s this passage in Two

-

Keefe’s going to die, one voice said

“no, he’s not. They need him alive if they want him to be useful.’

his mind will shatter said another

“no, it won’t. He’s not useful with a shattered mind.”

they will make him go numb

“‘no, he’s not,”

they will horribly hurt him as punishment

“no….”

they will break him. They will crush that light that he has, they will kill the boy you know, the boy you love will be dead

“NO!”

-

i deal with intrusive? thoughts (my brains a asshole) and will literally do things like this to me constantly especially late at night, it didn’t change the ending but i’m pretty sure this passage is going to effect my writing style in the future as i’m planning to use this same way of writing in my wip.

17.

ok i’m trying not to talk to much about my Kesline wip just to see if i can, so i’ll go with the original story i come back to a lot, it’s barley an idea atm so bear with me

basically an massive emp from a solar flare knocks out all of the electricity in the country for six months or more. the main character is a young mom and her two kids, they already have a place to live during the mini apocalypse and the story would be focused on building up their home and gaining members of their little survival gang. less doomsday more nature coming and taking over, also featuring the government being completely useless, tons of found family, ASL, and traumatized kids that where traumatized pre apocalypse

i have a whole list of dystopian clichés and tropes that i hate, and want to avoid at all costs, literally every disabled person dying, getting a home just to have it destroyed, people dying but there’s no actual reason for it even in a apocalypse setting, freaking cannibals every time, the kids doing dumb stuff and getting killed when it would probably be the teens, that weird thing where it goes from realistic end of the world to freaking sci fi out of nowhere the list goes on

*gestures to quiet place* i like end of the world stories like that better (other than the farm being destroyed)

anywho…i don’t actually like fantasy much (reading it or writing it) i really prefer sci fi and dystopian, Kotlc was enough of a mix of the three i was willing to read it

[crymeariveronceagain]

Tam and Linh finishing each other's sentences

"Hey," Tam said, "Have you seen my--"

"Cloak?" Linh finished. "Tiergan stole it. I think he lost his, and yours was the closest."

"You're kidding."

"Nope. I saw him wearing it this morning. Wylie mentioned it in passing."

"Oh my stars."

"I know. I was about to ask but--"

"He was in a rush? Wylie's been awful busy lately. Do you think he's up to something?"

"More than usual? No, it's just probably just--"

"School and the war? I get that. He's always kind of--"

"Stressed. Yeah. I mean, it makes sense. I'd be stressed too, with--"

"Endless paperwork--"

"Elite classes and--"

"freaking Neverseen. Screw them and--"

"Their asshat pyros, yeah, you've said all the time. I worry about him, sometimes--"

"That he's not getting enough sleep. But then again, neither are we, and we--"

"We are not doing fine, and you know it. Don't finish that sentence, Tammy."

Tam scowled at her, briefly. "Well, maybe you're not doing alright, but--"

"Don't finish that sentence, Tam Dai Song."

Tam rolled his eyes, "I will if I want to, Linh Hai Song."

She shrugged.

"What am I going to wear to the Black Swan meeting tonight?" Tam demanded. "Dad's wearing my cloak."

Linh looked at him, her eyes wide, the word catching him off guard.

"What?" Tam asked, looking at her funny. "What did I say?"

"You just called Tiergan Dad."

Tam's jaw dropped. "Oh. Stars. I'm sorry, Linh. I didn't mean to. I--"

"You were just saying what came naturally." Linh's voice was quiet. "Is he our dad, Tam?"

Tam was quiet for a long moment.

"Do we want him to be?"

Linh shuffled her feet, a little, water collecting in a single line above her head, and tying itself in knots. "I don't know."

Tam wandered over to the other side of the kitchen, pulling out a box of ripplepuff bites from the snack shelf. He dumped some of them into his hand. Shoved them in his mouth. "Do we want a dad?"

Linh's fingers clenched and unclenched once. "I... I think..."

"I think we do," Tam finished her sentence, after a moment. "Especially if it's--"

"Tiergan," Linh said.

"If he'll have us," Tam said. "We'd be--"

"His kids," Linh said, her voice soft. "I miss being someone's kid."

"Yeah," Tam said. "I mean, I called him dad, just now."

"I wonder what dear old Mother and Father will think when they hear us call him Dad."

"Father never wanted to be called Dad."

"No," Linh said, swallowing sharply. "He didn't."

Tam's eyes caught Linh's, and she looked away, sharply. "Something he told you?"

She shrugged. "Doesn't--"

"It does matter," Tam said."Don't dismiss that stuff like that, Linh. It's not good for you."

She looked away, breifly, and shrugged. "Not like I can change anything that happened now. It's just how it is. It is what it is."

"It still sucked," He looked at his sister, waiting until she met his gaze, and then said, "So, Tiergan is dad?"

Linh nodded, softly. "If he wants to be."

Tam let his face light up with a grin.

Linh grinned back.

Tam still didn't have a cloak to wear to that evening's Black Swan meeting.

[crymeariveronceagain]

Can you write something where Grady and Edaline use modern slang incorrectly to annoy Sophie? Like Grady says, "Sophie, your mom is yeeting bae for dinner" or something like that XD Thanks

Grady knew he'd done something right when his fifteen-year-old daughter looked at him like he'd told her the stars were made of cheese.

"What did you say?" Sophie asked, sounding terrified and appalled. "I don't think I heard you right."

"Your mom is yeeting bae for dinner."

Grady's daughter's eyes went wide and she covered her mouth in a sort of shock. "Dad... dad, what do you think that means?"

Grady shrugged. "It's one of those salty sentence enhancer words. The ones you just put in to make your sentences extra mood."

"Oh my stars, Dad. Please. No." She looked half-panicked. "You can't just throw those in, they have distinct meanings, and it's really--"

He was trying not to laugh. "I just think they're periodt."

"Dad. Stop. Please."

"Why can't I use the same words as you and your friends do all the time?"

"We don't use them like that!"

"Mood, honestly."

"NO."

"No cap, you mean?"

"FATHER I AM BEGGING YOU STOP THIS."

"What's going on?" Edaline stuck her head out of the door. "I can hear you two yelling from the kitchen."

"Mom," Sophie said, sounding pained. "Please tell Dad he can't say those words."

"What words?"

"Teenager slang! He's not using it right?"

Edaline looked at Grady. Grady grinned at her and tried to mentally communicate what his wife should do. Edaline's lips twitched, and her eyes sparkled.

Ah, the telepathic communication available to those who have been married for over 300 years.

"What," his wife said, and Grady was so in love with her, "You don't want him to say, "Wow, you really slay yeet, bae"?"

Sophie's jaw dropped in terror. "Yeah, he can't say that!"

"I think it's dope lit on fleek," Grady said, grinning at his wife like she hung the moon and the stars. She honestly could have with the way she was looking at him, bright and happy and freaking their little girl out with how outdated they could sound if they trited.

"It sounds fine to me."

"MOM!"

"Grady, I made that Gucci recipe tonight. It's full of yeety shook brat-tails."

"My bae," Grady answered.

Sophie made an unholy screeching noise. "I'm not sticking around here if you two are going to talk like that. Goodnight."

"Lowkey be back in time for Netflix and Chill, my sus Karen!"

Sophie screeched again, this time more disturbed. "Goodbye!"

"Bye Felicia!"

"NO."

She light leaped away, not looking back once.

Grady turned to his wife and kissed her cheek. "I love annoying our daughter. It's so easy."

His wife smirked. "She takes after you, Love."

"What's that supposed to mean?!"

His wife shot him a look.

Grady snorted, understanding, then, and then they went inside, and had dinner.

[crymeariveronceagain]

Keefe sneaking out to hang out with the gang

But

Cassius finds out and finds him, and basically lectures him in front of all his friends

Aka: my need for Keefe angst in this world

ah yes same tho my dear anon

keefe angst

yes

____keep reading line goes right down here____

All of his skin was prickling with uncomfortable, unhappy, unpleasant feelings.

They weren't even his feelings. And that made it worse. He could sense not only his dad's emotions, but the emotions of every. Single. One. Of his friends.

It made him want to throw up or run away or both.

But he didn't.

Maybe he was as much of an idiot as his father thought he was.

After all, he'd walked into this situation like there was nothing wrong and he was totally fine and then, of course, as it always did, everything had boiled over and gone rotten and he was the only one to blame for the way his skin felt like aches and bile.

"I didn't tell you you could leave the house," Snapped his father, and Keefe winced.

He could feel Fitz's hot rage blistering over him and he thought fast. "I know," he said, jovially, "Why else would I have done it?"

The heavy hand on his shoulder dug its nails into his skin. He could feel the pricks where hard keratin met soft keratin through the fabric of his shirt and he wanted to pull away. He didn't.

He couldn't.

That would leave blood on his shoulder, and there wasn't any blood on his shoulder, currently.

He’d have liked it to stay that way. The grip tightened, and with a jolt he realized he’d been zoning out for the past minute of his dad’s rant.

Emotions were flooding him, none of them his own, and every one was bad on some level. They were hot and spiky, or thick and slimy, or they were tinged dirty green and hot red. Nothing felt right and the world wasn’t real.

“Are you even listening to me?” Demanded his father.

“No,” Keefe said, because he did not fear gods or men anymore. 

His father scoffed, sharp. “You’re such an idiot. Why do I even bother with you?”

His friends were right there. Everything was prickly and he could feel his heartbeat in his shoulders, right underneath the thudding heat of a blush in his ears. 

He was going to thank every lucky star in the sky when he got home, whenever his father decided this torture was bad enough and dragged him back to Candleshade with its cold walls and icy floors that bit into your hands whenever you landed roughly on them after being flung carelessly with a hissing command to Get out of my sight, you little--

The rough hand on his shoulder that felt like a bucket of bricks and a crunching of bones shook him. 

He winced, feeling like his brain was rattling in his skull. 

Someone in the background said something, and his father’s voice was just a rough blur of sounds over the top of the harsh, bitter emotions that were all Keefe could feel or even focus on at this point. 

The world was fuzzy. 

“--Just leave him alone,” Someone was saying. 

“He is my son,” His father hissed, and Keefe winced, looking around to whoever spoke to shoot them an apologetic glance. Dex’s eyes met Keefe’s with a look of despair. 

Keefe glanced from Dex to his other friends who were there. It had been just a guys get together, dudes being bros, guys being pals, boys being boys, about to start a game of base quest after three hours of trying to find the tallest tree in the forest. 

Tam met his gaze with a venom that looked like it could kill. It bubbled like corrosion as his shadowy friend glared down his father with every ounce of gumption in his being. Keefe knew Tam was in possession of a lot of gumption. “Ah,” Tam said, his voice practically a hiss of shadow. “So you care about him a lot more than you say. Because you’d only be here if he mattered.”

Keefe blinked. 

“He matters only because he is my son,” spat his father. “I gave him everything, he means nothing but the weight I gave our shared name. And he will not drag me through the mud by his worthless, disgusting antics--”

Fitz’s emotions switched from hot-n-cold rage to fear. Slow, creeping, vulnerable fear, and he looked at Keefe with an attempt at calm.

Not for the first time, Keefe wondered what thoughts warred behind Fitz’s emotions. 

“And It would do you all good to let me discipline my son in peace.” 

Dex crossed his arms. 

Fitz took a step away, fear still glittering in his gaze.

Tam took a step forward, his hands clenched into fists.

Wylie set his hand gently on Tam’s shadowy shoulder. “Sir,” he said, calmly. “This is not an appropriate time or place for this behavior. If it continues I will have to ask you to leave.”

“I am not leaving without my son.” 

Keefe winced. The word was laced with disgust. Every time his dad referred to him, it was a  wash of disgust. 

He would have been lying if he said it didn’t ache.

“Well,” Wylie said, extremely calm, hand still on Tam’s shoulder(Tam seemed to be vibrating with an unchecked amount of rage, his shadows hissing cruel words in a thousand unbearable tongues). “That’s a you problem. You may either speak to your son respectfully, or wait for him to return to you. Or you may leave.”

Keefe’s dad’s grip on his shoulder felt like pins and needles were digging into his skin. They grew tighter and harsher with every word that Wylie spoke.

There would be tiny bruises from fingernails, Keefe was sure of it. 

But it could be worse. 

His dad’s grip tightened. 

He winced. 

It could be a lot worse. 

“He is my son, it is not your job to tell me what he needs. He deserves this, and you know it. He didn’t ask my permission, left without telling me, you know my son. What was I supposed to think? For all I had known, this idiot could have made the ludicrous choice to run back to his mother. Even she couldn’t love him, but maybe he thought she’d care--”

Keefe bit his lip.

His dad shook him, and his whole body jolted apart and back together. 

“And it’s the only thing he can understand. It’s his fault I have to do this. It’s the only thing he listens to!”

Keefe could feel fingernails beginning to cut into his skin and he almost-unconsciously arched away from the grip.

Tam growled something harsh and cruel. “Let go of him, motherfu--”

Wylie kicked his brother in the shin. 

Tam broke off into garbled Old Korean curses.

Wylie smiled, tightly, at Keefe’s father. “Look,” he said, calmly. “This is not the place or the time for this. We are not here to punish our friend. We will not be tools you use against him. So, if you’d like to discipline him as you see fit, do it in your own home. Or.” Wylie said, calmly, walking up to Keefe’s father, and prying the heavy and oppressive hand off of Keefe’s shoulder. “Leave.”

And with that word, Wylie gently, softly, carefully, brushed Keefe behind him with a soft touch that echoed of concern and a simmering righteous anger, and placed himself as a physical barrier between Keefe and his dad.

Wylie held his ground like a solid brick wall, holding his father's gaze like he was born to do it.

Eventually, his father scoffed. “Be home in an hour, Keefe,” he spat, over his shoulder, as he turned to leave.

And, with a rush of light, he held up his pathfinder, and was gone. 

Just like that, Wylie turned, and set his hands on Keefe’s arms, gently, looking him over, as though the words his father had been spitting, and the cloying, heavy feelings and pressed their invisible selves in scar like form onto his visible skin. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” Keefe said, weakly, lying through his teeth. “Totally.”

And Tam was at his side, and arm gently thrown over his shoulders.

Dex appeared at Wylie’s side. “Did he hurt you?”

Keefe shook his head, still lying, and Tam could tell, his arm tensing where it was on his shoulder. 

Fitz appeared, still looking numb to the world, but focused on the spot his father had been digging his fingernails into. He tapped it, gently, and Keefe winced. 

“Dude,” Dex said, “You’re hurt.”

“It’s not a big deal.”

“That’s blood,” Fitz said, still sounding like a monochrome piece of paper. 

Tam started swearing, and pulled away from Keefe, softly. Wylie nodded, and pulled Keefe’s shirt off his shoulder. 

“What a jerkish, no-good--” 

“Tam, shut up,” Wylie said, sharply. “Fitz, do you have anything that will work to patch this up?”

Fitz said nothing, and ripped the bottom half of his shirt silently. 

They all stared at him for a moment. 

“What the hell, Fitz,” Dex said, startled. 

And, the spell cast over Fitz was broken, whatever it was, and he glared, putting his whole heart and soul into it, at Dex. “Do you have a better idea, Deck?”

“That’s not my name, Fix.”

“Oh my stars,” Wylie said, sounding like an ancient, too old already for the ways of this world. “Just give me the piece of cloth. I’m surrounded by idiots.”

There was a hidden warmth to Wylie that Keefe could feel as Wylie wrapped the piece of Fitz’s shirt around his arm.

“You’re going to be okay,” Wylie said, looking Keefe once in the eyes. “And you know you’re not stuck, right?”

Keefe didn’t answer out loud. He nodded.

He didn’t know whether he believed that answer or not.

Dex and Fitz had started shouting at each other, throwing insults and stabby words and Tam was laughing, leaning against a tree. 

“You’re a loser, and a poser, and your hair is stupid!”

“Oh yeah, well I bet you can’t climb that tree, because you’re short, and you’re stuck in a computer all day.”

“That’s stupid.”

“No, you.”

Keefe snorted. “Fight,” he said, “Fight. Fight. Fight.”

“Don’t encourage them,” Wylie said, his hand pressed against his face, looking more like Tiergan than ever.

“Yes,” Tam said, brightly, “Encourage them. My money’s on Dex.”

“Nah,” Keefe said, “Fitz doesn’t look like it. But he fights like a girl.”

Tam’s eyes widened. “No mercy? And goes for the eyes and where it hurts?”

Keefe nodded. “Wanna change your bet?”

Tam snorted. “Maybe. I’ll race you to that sign down there first though.”

And they were off. Running. 

Super fast. 

Wylie shouted something after them, but Keefe didn’t pay attention.

He had a race to win, and a icy crystal mansion to return to in an hour.

But he had an hour.

He wasn’t going to think about what came after that.

It wouldn’t change anything, anyway.

[crymeariveronceagain]

Dex finding out the shirt he wore is Wonder Woman

"You know that that shirt's for a girl superhero," Sophie said.

Dex blinked, looking down at his Wonder Woman t-shirt. "What?"

"Yeah, for Wonder Woman."

The boy blinked, his eyes lighting up. "Biana!!!" He shouted, thrilled, "They've got girl superheroes, in the forbidden cities!"

Biana walked over, her eyes wide. "No way!"

"Yes way!" His eyes were bright and sparkling. "What does Wonder Woman do, Soph?"

Sophie blinked, startled. Every boy she'd ever met would have hated being in a girl superhero's shirt. Especially the ones her age. "Uh, well. Her name's Diana--"

"So cool," Biana said. "That sounds like my name but different!"

"Oh my stars," Dex said, excited. "You should dress up as Wonder Woman."

Biana grinned. "Sophie, keep going."

"She's a princess--"

Dex groaned. "You're kidding me--"

"--Of the amazons, a race of warrior women that rules over an island. She has a sword, a lasso that makes people tell the truth, and she's super nice, too. She fought the god of war, Ares, in one of the movies, or maybe it was just a huge army. I'm not sure, I didn't make it all the way to the end. My parents sent me to bed. But she's strong and smart and kind and she slices through people with her sword."

Biana and Dex's jaws dropped at the same time. "No frigging way," Biana whispered, "That's so awesome."

"Yeah," Dex said. "No kidding."

He grinned down at his shirt, and turned to Keefe, where he stood in his Batman shirt. "Hey Keefe! My hero is cooler than yours! Take that!"

Keefe squawked in outrage.

Sophie and Biana giggled.

Dex just grinned.

[crymeariveronceagain]

Keefe and Sophie getting into an argument and Sophie saying some things to Keefe that sound a little like Cassius

cut off because i'm sure someone out there doesn't want to read an argument:

Keefe was snarling at her about how he was doing his best and if she was going to be such a jerk about it and it wasn't even a big deal--

"Of course it's a big deal!" Sophie half-shouted. "I was counting on you! I needed you to be on my side! No one listens to me, no one understands what I'm saying, I need someone to help me, I can't do this on my own!"

"Well, stars above, Sophie. I'm sorry I'm not perfect, I'm sorry I missed the cue or whatever stupid thing you wanted me to do!"

Sophie dragged a hand through her hair, feeling like she was three seconds away from screaming obscenities and marching away and giving up on healthy communication for the evening. "I just can't believe you forgot! I talked to you about it! I needed you to help me and I needed it to be done--"

"I'm sorry that you're so torn up about it!" Keefe answered, just as heatedly. "I'm sorry you couldn't do it yourself and had to depend on me--"

"Oh please," Sophie snapped. "Like it's my fault because you agreed to help--"

"--You should know better than to--"

"You're being a prick--"

"You're the one who's being a prick!" Keefe was shouting back, just as angry.

"I can't believe this," Sophie snapped. "The council will never agree to it now, and we were so close--"

"Well we'll just have to try again! We do this all the time, it's not a big deal!"

"It's the biggest deal!"

"No, it's not. It's just the stupid council, and the stupid law, and the stupid document you needed--"

"Oh my stars," Sophie shouted, hitting her limit like it was a glass window, her eyes on fire. "You're so stupid! You can't do anything right!"

And it was as though someone had pressed a button.

Her boyfriend just... shut down. There was no more yelling, no more fast answers, no more quick and sharp and borderline screaming. There was just an icy quiet.

Sophie was still steaming, in anger, her heart still going a million miles an hour, adrenaline coursing through her and practically screaming at her to keep going. She had him on the ropes. If this was a debate, she could have finished it, right then and there.

She stopped, then. This wasn't a debate. This wasn't a battle.

This was her boyfriend. The love of her honest to goodness life. And she'd made him shut down. That... was not a good reaction.

She took a moment, and collected herself. Problems would stay problems. What's done is done, she decided, about what they'd been arguing about. It wasn't that important now, anyway. I wanted an apology, but right now this is different.

"Keefe," she said, softly, reaching towards him. "Are you okay?"

Keefe shook his head, looking almost numb, in a way, like he was trying to fight off a million emotions all at once.

"...Okay. What's going on in your head?"

Keefe said nothing, for a long moment, thoughts almost visibly flashing across his face. Then he shook his head. "I'm not sure," he said, finally.

Sophie blinked. "You're not sure?"

Keefe shrugged, and took a step away. "I think I'll... uhm. I'll head out. Now. Goodnight, Foster--"

"Wait," she said, then. "Wait."

He waited.

"I said some things I didn't mean," she said, determined to set her emotions which still were very angry that she had to be the bigger person, here.

Keefe swallowed, slightly. His eyes didn't seem to wholly be seeing her. "I know it was a big deal," he said, then, after a moment. "I didn't mean to let you down. I'm sorry. I really did forget."

Sophie nodded. "I know," she said. "I don't think you'd ever willingly let me down."

Keefe's shoulders relaxed, slightly, and he hissed, rubbing a hand across his forehead. "My head is so weird," he said, after a few moments of silence between them. "You said that crap about me being stupid and literally the only thing I could think about was my dad."

Sophie's eyes went wide, sharply, and Keefe made a noise in the back of his throat. "No. Not that I thought you sounded like my dad. Not that you were acting like my dad. None of that. You had reasons. I wasn't helping. We're both ticked about this, still. I can feel your ticked-off-ness from over here. But. It just. It reminded me of stuff he always says, you know?"

Sophie was quiet.

"And I'm not going to be able to avoid crap like that. Especially if we have another argument sometime--"

Sophie started running the math on the likelihood of them never fighting again.

"Stop that, Foster," he said, then. "We're going to have more fights. It's normal. And I'd prefer fights to not dealing with stuff."

Sophie stopped running numbers.

"Thank you," he said. "And I don't want to stop you from getting mad. Because you're allowed to be mad at me. Especially if I do stupid things. I mean, I'm mad at myself, too."

Sophie tilted her head to the side, looking at him. "I still shouldn't have called you stupid. Or said you can't do things correctly. Those were just straight up lies." Keefe didn't say anything. Sophie took a step towards him. "You're smart, and you do plenty of things correctly. I didn't mean any of that, and I'll avoid saying that kind of thing again."

Keefe didn't say anything for a long moment. "I'll apologize straight out of the gate," he said, then. "That way we won't even get there."

Something in Sophie's chest relaxed, the anger satisfied, the fear abated. She nodded, then. "I forgive you," she said. "You forgive me?"

He snorted. "Heck yeah, Foster."

"Wanna come make some mallowmelt with me and brainstorm how to convince the council to give our law another hearing?"

"Heck yeah," Keefe said, then, and wrapped an arm around her shoulder. "Let's go, Love."

She flushed as he pressed a soft kiss to the side of her face, and she realized something.

Together, they could make something that could stick. They had something worth fighting for, worth standing with.

They had something that could last.

[crymeariveronceagain]

Fintan and Keefe

"...So, what, then," Keefe asked. "What's the problem?"

Fintan sighed. "The problem is," he answered, exasperated. "You're not thinking outside your head."

"I can't think outside my head! That's where my brain is!"

Fintan rolled his eyes, but it didn't feel cruel. It felt tired. "Of course you can. Look," he said, gesturing to the spreading city before them. "Each one of these people has a life, right?"

Keefe nodded, wondering where this was going.

Fintan sighed, deeply. "Each of them has something they're feeling, right now, right?"

Keefe nodded again, but more slowly this time.

"Tell me why one of them is feeling the way they are."

"I can't do that, that's reading their minds--"

"You can do it. Just look. You've got all the tools you need right in front of you. The way they walk, the way they feel, the way they move, what they're carrying. If you combine it all, you know what's going on in their head, not just their heart."

Keefe focused on a very loud, stressed out person. The woman had a box of cupcakes in her arms, and was loudly talking on her phone, and trying to grab a notebook out of her purse as she did it.

Keefe stared at her.

Why are you so upset? He thought, trying to pull the idea together.

Then it clicked. "She's planning a party," he said. "And nothing's going right."

Fintan reached out and ruffled Keefe's hair with his hot, inescapable hand. "Good job, Kid," The pyrokinetic said. "I'm proud of you."

Keefe wished he didn't cling to those words like he was a drowning man. Keefe wished he didn't know that his mother had told Fintan what his reaction to gentle touches and praise were, how his whole soul leaped and jumped up and down like a kid in a candy store, happier than ever, just by a simple action.

Keefe wished he couldn't tell that it was just a manipulation tactic.

"Now," Fintan said. "Do the next one."

Keefe nodded, and focused on his next target. He'd take manipulation, he thought. It kept him from going insane.

[crymeariveronceagain]

Ruy and Keefe

"Look," Ruy said, and Keefe blinked at him from across the table, staring at the thin sliver of pizza that the older elf had cut for him out of his larger pizza pie. "I don't care about a lot of things."

Keefe wasn't sure he believed that.

"No, I mean it, I really do. I don't care about a ton of things. But if you honestly can find me something better on this planet than Pepperoni Pineapple Freezer Pizza at Midnight on a weeknight, then I will fight you to death in the huge abandoned parking lot a mile south from here."

Keefe scrunched his nose up. "Okay," he said, "But what if you put olives on it--"

"I swear on every unforgiving star, Keefe, don't even speak of such sacrilege. I'll kill you right now."

Keefe snorted.

"I'm not joking."

Keefe swallowed the bubble of laughter in his throat, looking with wide eyes at the blond elf.

"Okay," the elf said. "Maybe I was joking a little. Geez, why do you take death threats so seriously?"

Keefe didn't know whether or not to say it was because of Ruy.

[crymeariveronceagain]

Keefe and Sophie doing finger art, but it gets very messy :)

It hadn't started out as finger painting.

Keefe had had brushes.

But he'd gotten a very nice streak of paint on his hand, and had been struck with an idea.

All great artists get that way, he was sure of it. So this was an excellent sign of his own skill, if own anything. He stared at the now entirely white and green canvas.

Pursed his lips, staring at the blue tube of paint. His hands were coated in green and yellow and brown, mixed together to make a grassy color.

Okay, sue him, he was painting a field.

Actually, don't sue him. He was effectively broke.

He considered his work in progress once again.

Realization struck him. He should have started with the sky. He slapped his forehead, briefly, and then poured out some of the blue paint.

Foregoing paintbrushes altogether, he washed off the paint from his hands and then immediately went into it with gusto.

By the time he was re-doing the now more yellowy grass, Sophie had found him.

"What are you doing?" she asked, curiously.

Keefe glanced at her, not taking his entire focus off his project. "Art."

"I can see that, but you don't have any brushes."

"Does a great artist like me need any, Foster?"

She squinted at him. "I feel like that's a trap."

"It definitely is," He responded, "Can you pour some white? I want to put some clouds in."

Sophie nodded, and poured some white paint.

Thrilled, he globbed some on. "Wanna help?"

Sophie was quiet, for a moment. Then she dipped her fingers in the yellow-green-brown mix he had been using for the grass. "Sure," she said.

Keefe shot her a grin.

They worked together, for a while, their eyes devoted entirely to the project.

Soon, Keefe took a step back. "I think that's almost perfect," he said.

"Really?" Sophie said, startled. "Even with me messing it up?"

Keefe shook his head. "You made it better, Foster."

She grinned, brightly, rubbing her skirt with her messy hands. Keefe yelped. "Foster! Your hands--"

She made an annoyed noise, staring at her multicolored fingers and skirt. "This is all over me, huh?"

He nodded.

"This is your fault," she said, teasingly.

Keefe snorted. "I didn't make you help me--"

She flicked her fingers at him, splattering little flecks of paint onto him.

"Hey!"

She giggled, letting her eyes and face radiate so much joy that he couldn't.

He walked up to her, keeping a comically straight face, and leaned in towards her. Without a warning, he pressed a kiss to her face, and put a hand on her shoulder.

She screeched, in happy-flavored outrage, staring at the mark on her shirt. "Keefe! What the heck! That was an overreaction!"

He tilted his head to the side. "Was it?"

Without another word, she reached for the bottle of white paint, and splashed it straight onto his shirt.

The noise he made was inhuman. She collapsed into giggles, and he may have loved her to death, but this was one of his favorite shirts.

There was only one option, he decided, and scraped some of the paint into his hand and flung it at her. She screeched, and grabbed the red.

Splosh!

She was still grinning. He stared at her, completely afronted for exactly three seconds, and then dove for the blue.

This meant war.

So it went, back and forth, until they were covered in paint. Honestly, Keefe thought, staring at his girlfriend, covered in handprints that were bleeding together in a rush of muddy color, to himself, drenched in every color of the rainbow, they'd probably never looked better.

She streaked her painty hands down his arms, and he shouted something garbled at her, and mushed paint into her hair.

Her brown eyes glowed.

He was so in love with her.

She splatted her wet hands onto his back, and snorted in laughter.

Keefe turned and tried to do the same to her, but tripped and fell and landed in the grass.

Sophie roared in laughter. Keefe scowled up at her, good naturedly. "Now this," he said, "Is your fault."

She stiffled her giggles behind one red and blue hand, and held out her green and yellow hand to him. "Truce?"

Keefe looked at her green and yellow hand, judging for a moment. "Truce," he said, and let her pull him to his feet. Then, immediately, he took the last bottle of paint, the black, and dumped it on her head.

She screeched, and chased him back to Havenfield.

Eventually, thoroughly messy and multicolored, they went inside. Edaline made several very disapproving tutting noises from where she watched them as they entered the house. "You better not get any of that paint on your floor, Sophie!"

Grady told Keefe to shower as far away from Sophie as was physically possible.

In response, Keefe kissed his very very painty girlfriend right in front of her father's scandalized eyes.

And he was promptly chased to the other end of the house by that same father. He locked the door to the bathroom behind him, and didn't come out until he was properly clean.

It was only later that he discovered that some of the flecks of their paint fight had wound up on the finished painting.

He decided he liked it better for that, and hung it up in his room.

[crymeariveronceagain]

Keefe's thoughts everytime he sees his friends/random kids with loving families

His eyes burn. But he's happy for them.

He wishes he didn't think about how much he didn't get that. He wishes he could just see kids, kids and parents, hugging, laughing, smiling. He can't see that.

All he sees, all he's ever seen, since he was little, was something he wanted. Something that he'd never have.

His parents never hugged him, he'd thought, when he was seven, watching a little girl get swept into her mother's arms. Her mother pressed a kiss to the side of her head. Keefe can never remember whether or not his mother's ever kissed him.

His parents never told him he did a good job, he'd thought, when he was ten, and he saw a boy his age take his drawing to show his dad. "Dad! Dad! Look! I drew a Tyrannosaurus Rex!!"

"Wow, amazing, kiddo!"

The kid grinned, his eyes bright.

Keefe cut out the middle man and threw his art in the trashcan himself that night. Better than finding it there later after his dad had taken it away.

His parents never touched him, he thought, when he was fifteen, and he saw Sophie snuggled between her parents in the wooden seats of the Tribunal. They held her hands, and were sitting close to her so that she'd never have to question that she wasn't alone. Keefe didn't know if he'd want that, from his parents, anymore.

But the point remained that they'd never done it.

It shouldn't have hurt, anymore, he thought, when he was nineteen. He was used to this feeling.

A little kid was getting swung back and forth between their parents as they walked down the streets of Atlantis. Keefe had a pencil between his teeth as he smudged the shading on the tiny drawing he was making of the happy family.

It still hurt.

He was nineteen years old. It had hurt for a long time. He'd gone through his whole childhood, it hurting the whole time.

But.

He supposed it was always gonna hurt.

These things don't get easier. They just get harder to look away from.

[crymeariveronceagain]

Brant and Keefe

"So... she was your girlfriend?"

The sad man nodded. There was a look in his eyes that reminded Keefe of a broken record, like he was watching a glitchy video repeat, looping, over and over and over in his mind. Glitch. Repeat. Glitch. Repeat. As though there was an inescapable thought in his head that not even his own mind could fight off.

"What happened to her?"

"Killed her."

Keefe's stomach twisted with a terrified sickness. His face had to be corrupted with a look of complete sorrow, because Brant chuckled, almost. Then he shrugged, but his mind seemed to glitch, over and over. The thought, whatever it was, kept repeating. "Wasn't on purpose. She knew too much. Was with the Black Swan. Selling all our secrets."

Keefe's stomach grew all the sicker.

"But hey," Brant said, a smile forming on his scarred face. His eyes were shadowed, and his mouth was a gaping cave of darkness. "I didn't leave that housefire until her parents pulled me out."

Keefe decided he didn't like Brant all that much.

[crymeariveronceagain]

Dex and Keefe being the ultimate prank duo

"And you did this... for what," Dex asked, very tired.

"Fame, glory, recognition," Keefe answered, grinning.

"Dude," Dex said, already exhausted.

"Okay," Keefe said, "I admit it."

Dex kept staring at the Murcat which had clearly had several anti-gravity potions, as it was now chasing a ball of yarn around on the cieling. "What?"

"I did it for the money."

Dex facepalmed so hard he hurt his own head.

"Come ooonnnn, Dexy! You gotta admit, Linh will laugh so hard!"

"Or she'll hate us forever and kill us behind my dad's store."

Keefe brushed the comment off. "What's a little well earned death, now and again, my dear friend?"

"We could die," Dex answered.

"Psh," Keefe said. "I fear no such thing!"

"Everyone fears Linh," Dex said.

"I fear one thing," Keefe said, amending the earlier statement. "But, come on, man! What better way to face our fears!"

Dex stared at Keefe as though he was nuts. Maybe Keefe had really lost it.

Keefe held up another bottle. "I made a mistake, though. Wanna help me catch her so we can dye her orange, first?"

Dex went quiet for a moment, weighing it over in his mind.

"If you get the ladder, we can do orange with lime green polka dots."

Keefe grinned, tossing the bottle to his partner in crime. "My Dearest Dexy," He said, brightly, "Have I ever told you you're one hell of a guy?"

"Yeah, yeah," Dex said, digging around in his pocket for another bottle. "You owe me, Sencen!"

"I owe you nothing!" Keefe shouted, from the hall.

Dex grumbled, and glanced up at the Murcat.

Then he grinned.

This was going to be hilarious.

[crymeariveronceagain]

Sophie and Keefe cooking and almost burning down the house?

Sophie stared, in a bit of shock, at the flaming pan, where it sat on the stove. "Keefe."

"No, just keep stirring it for now. I've gotta watch this meringue."

"Keefe," She said again.

Keefe was still heatedly stirring the bowl of egg whites. "Just keep stirring it--"

"Keefe."

He heard the note of urgency that had entered her tone, and turned around, finally. He saw the huge flames reaching up towards the ceiling from the pan that had been burning for the past fifteen seconds. "Foster. Why."

Sophie made a noncommittal noise.

Keefe sighed, and pulled a lid out from under the drawer. He'd seen too much fire to get that worried about it. He set the lid on top of the flaming pan, and without pausing for a moment, carried the whole thing outside.

He walked back in a moment later, and stared at his girlfriend. She had been too calm about a kitchen fire, but he couldn't fault her. Her eyes were very wide, but she didn't look scared.

He couldn't fault her for not being scared of fire anymore, either. Although, it would have been nice to get some heads up about said fire. Especially since it was right in the middle of her kitchen.

"What?" she said.

"Foster," he said, tiredly, pointing upwards, "If Edaline notices the smoke marks on her ceiling, we're never going to be allowed to cook in here again."

"Oh," Sophie said, looking up as well, seeing the black streaks on the white celling, smelling the fire tinged room with a new understanding. Edaline would not be pleased. There were few things her mother cared about, but her kitchen was one of those few. "Oh no."

"I'll get the wash cloth."