#rowan died. and a part of us died with her

[cherrysnax]

oh yeah we were also wondering why we flock to media with dead kids that haunt the narrative both figuratively and literally and uh :) yeah we know why

[simpforboys]

Hi! I saw you wanted some Xavier requests.

So here I am with an idea 💡

So basically the reader helps Wednesday investigating and they get to Xavier's shed. He found them and Wednesday comes up with the excuse that the reader wanted to ask him to the Rave'n. A detail is... the reader "hates" him a lot😜🤘

Hope you like the idea. I haven't seen it done yet..🤷🏻‍♀️😂

hardest to love

xavier x fem!addams!reader

summary: after wednesday drags you to xavier’s art shed, you accidentally end up with a date to the rave’n.

warnings: enemies to lovers 🤭, swearing, fluff ending

i made this addams!reader because i thought it fit perfectly, no physical descriptions used tho!

AHHHH I LOVED WRITING THIS I HOPE ITS GOOD

“i cannot believe you dragged me out here.” you rolled your eyes, leaves crunching under your boots.

wednesday had practically begged you to come to xavier’s art shed with her. she insisted he had some sort of connection with the monster she was hunting.

“quit your complaining, it’s giving me a headache. and not the good kind.”

she had picked the lock to the shed and opened the door. you followed after her, seeing hundreds of drawings hung around the room.

“i told you.” wednesday exclaimed, showing off the illustrations of the same monster over and over again, the one wednesday claimed to see the night rowan died.

“this doesn’t make any sense-“

“i think it makes perfect sense. xavier and rowan were roommates, xavier was there the night rowan was attacked.”

as much as you didn’t like xavier, you also didn’t like how wednesday would go around throwing accusations.

you and xavier had immediately got off on the wrong foot. ever since the first day of school, he accidentally made a comment you didn’t like.

the dislike just grew the more he tried to hang around wednesday. you wanted to keep your family safe, much to wednesday’s dismay.

wednesday started gathering some of the drawings to use for evidence. “put them back, wednesday-“

“no. i need these.”

you and wednesday started bickering. all of a sudden, you heard leaves start crunching. “we need to leave.”

you exited the shed and wednesday followed after you. you two tried to silently walk away, but the stupid leaves made it almost impossible.

who the hell makes an art shed in the middle of the woods?

“y/n? wednesday?” xavier called out after you.

the two of you turned around almost instantly. wednesday stuck the drawings behind her back as she pursed her lips.

your stomach flipped with nerves. xavier approached you both suspiciously.

“what are you guys doing here?” he asked.

you were about to speak when wednesday blurted out, “y/n wanted to ask you something.”

“huh?” you said confused, wednesday kicking your leg.

xavier’s eyebrows furrowed at you two.

“about the dance…” wednesday trailed off. it was very difficult for her to hide her amusement at the look on your face.

“right…” you rolled your eyes.

“oh?” xavier smirked.

while you didn’t like xavier, the feeling was one sided. he had tried to apologize multiple times to you, but you never listened.

“are you really going to make me say it?” you asked through gritted teeth, heart pounding in your chest. your hands were shaking.

“oh, absolutely.” xavier grinned.

“w-“ you started. the words just didn’t want to come out of your mouth.

“will…”

“take your time.” wednesday whispered loudly. xavier laughed and you wanted to crawl into a hole and die.

“will… y-you… go tothedancewithme?”

you rushed the last part out. you felt like you were going to faint as xavier looked you directly in the eyes.

“i’m sorry, could you repeat that?” xavier teased.

“i’m not repeating it.” you replied in a hostile yet embarrassed tone. your face was extremely hot.

“yes. i thought you’d never ask.”

“neither did i.” you mumbled to yourself.

➽─────────────────❥

you were beyond pissed at wednesday. pissed was an understatement.

“i cannot believe you made me ask! don’t you ever think, wednesday?” you were pacing around your room.

your normal calm nature was completely rattled.

but you weren’t the only one rattled.

xavier couldn’t believe you had asked him to the rave’n. ajax sat on xavier’s bed as xavier paced back and forth.

“i mean- why would she ask me?”

“maybe she secretly likes you, dude.” ajax replied.

xavier kept rambling on about your behavior and how sudden it was.

you were doing the same to wednesday. she was miserable as she wrote her novel.

“as much as i love to hear you in pain, could you please be quiet?”

“no! this is your fault, all because you’re obsessed with some stupid monster.”

“and you’re not obsessed with the idea of xavier thorpe taking you to the rave’n? hmm? don’t even lie, y/n. i see you stare at him in class. your cold demeanor will soon drop.”

➽─────────────────❥

you dreaded the day until the rave’n. what didn’t help, was thing insisted you wear a black gown to stand out.

“why am i even going?” you sighed. you sat on your bed with your head in your hand, staring down at the gorgeous black silk.

thing had even stolen a matching pair of black heels.

“i invited tyler to go with wednesday.” thing signed to you. immediately your mood changed knowing wednesday would be as miserable as you.

thing quickly signed to you to get dressed. you groaned, grabbing the gown and shoes. thing turned around as you slid the silk up your soft legs, a mid-cut v neckline that showed just the slightest cleavage.

you looked in the mirror and couldn’t even deny how good you looked.

thing then motioned for you to sit down. thing then proceeded to fix up your hair and gave you a nice necklace.

“thank you, thing.” you gave the hand a little kiss. thing signed, don’t mention it.

and there was a knock on the door. all the weight of the world just crashed down on you within two seconds.

“shit, shit, shit.” you swore as thing went over to open the door.

you spun around nervously and tried to find a place to hide. “woah.”

you pursed your lips as you turned around slowly. xavier, dressed in all white, looked at you in awe. he was holding a corsage.

“you look-“

“thanks.” you nervously held your hand out and he slipped the corsage on. you couldn’t help but notice his own shaking hands.

you shut the door behind you both. there was an awkward silence as xavier struggled to find something to talk about.

meanwhile, you were struggling to walk in your heels. “you okay?”

xavier motioned to your awkward walk.

“heels are the worst. they torture your feet, and not in a fun way.”

xavier smiled at you, offering his arm.

you hesitantly accepted. when his warm arm met your cold one you both swore some sort of electricity went off.

the walk through the quad was almost embarrassing. the weird looks everyone gave you as you walked with xavier.

it only got worse when you walked into the dance. “you guys look amazing!” ms thornhill complimented.

xavier thanked her, sensing your uncomfortable stature and brought you off to the side.

“do you see wednesday?” you asked him over the loud music.

you needed to talk to her.

“is that-“ xavier nodded towards where wednesday stood awkwardly with tyler.

you left xavier without a second word, striding over to wednesday. her blank gaze met you and she walked away from tyler to meet you in the dance floor.

“this is worse than a wedding.” wednesday said in disgust.

“i see thing got you back for what you did to me.” you motioned over to tyler, dressed in all white, standing there watching you two.

“thing was out to humiliate me. i at least saved us.”

you blinked at wednesday.

“someone misses you…” she motioned over to xavier looking at you like a sad puppy. he was talking to ajax, but his eyes never left yours.

“i guess we should get back to our dates.” you sighed.

“unfortunately.” wednesday agreed.

➽─────────────────❥

goo goo muck played loudly from the speaker.

you watched as wednesday did her dance with tyler, not even noticing your own body began to sway with the beat.

“wanna dance?” xavier asked.

you stared at him before nodding slowly.

if wednesday was dancing, you can dance too, right?

your body moved with the beat, the crowd forcing you and xavier tightly together.

it was freaky how close you two were. he moved his shoulders to the beat, eyes looking straight into yours as you did the same.

unbeknownst to you, everyone could feel the sexual tension between you too.

xavier’s body language quickly met yours and before you knew it, you danced together in a rhythm that surely anyone in a two feet radius could sense.

your face was mere inches from his, hands brushing against each other as you moved.

and you couldn’t even deny how good xavier looked. under the strobe lights, his hair slicked back into a bun, his white suit.

and before you could realize it, your lips were centimeters away. his lips slightly grazed yours, his big hand coming up to cup your jaw.

but as soon as xavier was about to connect your lips, the sprinklers started to go off releasing red substance everywhere.

“what the hell?” xavier groaned, the liquid getting all over his suit and face.

you stuck your finger into your mouth, xavier watching you in shock.

“paint.”

people screamed as they slipped onto the wooden floor. everyone made a run to the doors, the night ruined.

but for xavier, the only thing that was ruined was the fact he almost kissed you.

“let’s get outta here, yeah?”

you nodded at xavier as you held onto his arm once more. he led the two of you outside and into the quad where nevermore students stood upset.

“i have a spot where we can clean the paint up.”

➽─────────────────❥

xavier took you back to his art shed. the drawings and paintings you previously saw with wednesday were now gone.

you stood silently, watching xavier wipe the paint off his face and neck.

he removed his suit jacket, leaving him in his white button up and pants. the buttons to his shirt were slightly undone, leaving some of his chest exposed.

“you know, i never got to ask. why did you hate me so much?”

xavier was now staring at you. you felt nervous under his gaze.

“it wasn’t hate. it was dislike. i did not like the comment you made about my family in the beginning of the year.”

“it wasn’t meant to come out that way, y/n.”

“but it did. it did to me.”

xavier walked up to you. his piercing blue eyes stared directly into yours. you felt chills run down your body.

“i’m sorry.”

and you could tell he meant it. you’d never seen such a sincere look in someones eyes before.

“can i?” he motioned to the clean rag he lifted slightly above your face.

you nodded hesitantly.

xavier carefully ran the rag along your cheeks, nose, and forehead.

he stopped when he got to your lips, a strange look in his eye.

seeing the way he looked at you made you realize that everything was just one sided.

and with that realization, you grabbed xavier’s waist and pulled him into you.

xavier immediately kissed you, dropping the rag as he cupped your face.

you’d never experienced such passion, let alone in a kiss.

the electricity you seemed to feel appeared to get stronger, and maybe a couple sparks would fly.

but that didn’t matter, because xavier had finally got you. and you finally got what you never realized you needed.

[leadpoisioning]

Radiohead

Creep!Rowan Laslow x Fem!Reader

SMUT (18+) ((Rowan is a creep, a weirdo-, obsessive?, toys, oral fixation, praise))

Word Count: 1,457

Rowan pays a visit to your dorm during your study session with Yoko that gets cut short due to ironic circumstances.

It was hard for Rowan to fit in. Being a part of the Nightshades hardly accounted for anything socially, no one else knew they existed. Even then, besides Xavier, they didn’t really talk to him. It was pitiful, but it had its perks. No one really paid any kind of attention to him, he could practically walk around anywhere without the risk of being interrogated thoroughly. He was using this to his advantage at the moment, casually striding through the dorm halls during class time.

There was only one thought in his mind as his feet took him to the desired destination. You, as he made his way to your dorm. You were currently across campus with your roommate, Yoko. He overheard you speaking with her last period during botany class about studying afterwards. That’s when this plan cultivated in his mind. He’d always fantasized about your room. He could only imagine, as there was no way you’d ever talk to him- let alone invite him over. He decided to take a peek on his own account. He couldn’t hold himself back any longer.

He finally reaches the dorm marked with various vampire signs, curtesy of Yoko. He tries the doorknob and sighs in relief when it opens with ease. He quickly slides in and takes a quick glance to make sure he’s alone. Then, he zeroes in on the side that is evidently yours. His heart races with excitement as he takes in your decorations. He loves them, he loves them because they perfectly match you. He bites his lip, suppressing the thought of being caught. Yoko took studying very seriously, and you wouldn’t be back for another hour or so- besides he couldn’t get any further down on the weirdo chain than he already was. He couldn’t lie to himself though; the thought also thrilled him.

After observing the outer layer of your side, he digs deeper. His breathing gets heavier, shaky hands reaching for your dresser doors. The first one he opens displays your underwear. Lucky guess. He resists the urge to take any, feeling that a sick kind of good karma would surely come his way if he chose not to steal. However, he picks a pair up and takes a deep inhale before putting it back. He closes it and instead opts for your bedside drawer. Sitting on your bed, he opens it, not knowing what to expect. What he does find, makes him have to take a spritz of his inhaler. The drawer contains a few personal items. Extremely personal. He can’t look away, studying them very carefully. Until he hears your laugh.

God, any other time he would love to sit still, pretend they were laughs caused by him- but now he has to move. He slams the drawer shut and rolls under your bed, hoping you didn’t need anything stored under here- or maybe he hoped you did just so he could see you. His pants were already tight, he quietly readjusts as you approach the bed. It dips a bit as you take a seat where he previously was.

“Whatever, I’ll be back at like eight, Enid wants to go over botany notes too. Also, lock the fucking door if you leave!” Yoko states, walking out and shutting the door behind her. You sigh, finally glad to be rid of her for a while. Rowan bites his lip, sensing the bed shift as you lay back. His eyes widen when he hears you open the drawer. Quietly, he shifts onto his back, waiting.

Soon, a faint buzz fills his ears. Rowan believes he has died and gone to a better place. Tentatively, his hand moves down to his aching cock, massaging it in time with your labored breaths from above the mattress. His hips buck when your whimpers grow more desperate and needy. He’d give anything and kill anyone just to be the one who made those noises come from you. He freezes when you moan louder, not at the volume of it- but what exactly you uttered.

“Rowan… fuck…” Your hips rut against the vibrating toy. As soon as you heard the door angrily lock from Yoko, you eagerly tugged your pants and underwear down. Rowan had looked extra handsome in class today and you noticed. You could barely focus in class, much less when Yoko and yourself went to study. You just had to cut the session short and hope she wouldn’t insist on staying with you.

Rowan can barely breathe, but he can’t risk the inhaler alerting you. But something else does instead. There is a series of quick knocks at the door. You huff in frustration and slam the toy back into your drawer. Rowan takes a spritz right as you get off the bed, masking it under the louder sound of the springs. You pull your pants up and open the door, allowing the guests to enter. He silently seethes as he watches familiar black shoes stride in. Wednesday. Always ruining his plans.

“Oh let him down, he can explore.” You chuckle, Rowans blood runs cold as Wednesday lets Thing down onto the ground. The appendage no doubt notices him, but decidedly ignores him as he crawls up onto the bed. “So what’d you need?” You turn to Wednesday.

“Rowan Laslow. I want your thoughts on him. Based on my observations you are the most trustworthy person I could expect to ask.”

“Oh, thanks. Well, Rowan…” You think for a moment. “He’s very intelligent, kind of a loner, save for Xavier, but that’s not a bad thing. I don’t really know him all that well. I’d ask Xavier if you want real information on him though- they’re roommates.” You explain. His heart swells hearing you describe himself, it almost makes him forget about Wednesday inquiring about him. He’ll have to check that out later.

“Thank you.” She nods and promptly leaves your room, Thing in tow.

This is when Rowan gains a spur of confidence. The way you described him, your moans, all signs that he could reveal himself to you and be accepted if he played his cards right. You’re still faced the door when he leaves the confines of the underside of your bed. He hesitantly approaches you. You turn around with your head down, eyes widening at the sight of his shoes. You look up, eyes meeting his.

“I’m flattered, Princess.” He lustily gazes at you through the lenses of his glasses. You can’t seem to muster the words to say anything. His hand reaches up to your chin, and his face gets impossibly close to your own. “Just say the word and I’ll take care of you.” He promises, evidently having heard your previous whines.

“Please.” You whimper, he wickedly grins and attacks your lips with his own.

Soon, he’s taken control and pushes you down onto your bed, now in between your unclothed legs. You pant, watching him carefully. He reaches over to your drawer, you look away embarrassed. His hand moves your face to look at him.

“Don’t be embarrassed, Princess. I don’t blame you. But, if you wanted the real thing you could’ve just asked.” He teases, kissing your temple while he moves back to sit in between your legs. You see which toy he’s chosen, excitedly anticipating his next move. He turns the toy on and off, having noticed the wetness on it from before you’d had to put it away. You bite your lip, watching as he brings it closer to his face. He drags it against his tongue, eyes rolling into the back of his head as he tastes you. When the toy is deemed clean by him, he edges it towards your cunt.

He holds your hips down with his watch clad arm, resting the vibrating toy against your clit. Your hips involuntary buck up, his arm keeping you steady.

“Stay still, don’t you want to be good for me?” He murmurs, looking up at you through his lenses. You quickly nod and try to gain control of your lower half. He taps the toy against your pussy, drawing it through your soaked folds. You grow louder, gasping at the change of direction. Rowan was already close, just being in your dorm alone and being able to witness your intimate possessions was already enough for him- he had to do something, and quick. He tosses the toy back into your drawer. “Lay down on your side.” He orders, beginning to undo his own pants. You quickly do as your told and wait, feeling him lay down behind you.

Rowan places his hand in front of your mouth. “Spit.” He uses your saliva to generously jerk his cock as he rests his head on your shoulder. His hand wedges in between your thighs and raises the one on top, exposing your pussy to the air, before feeling him push against your ass, letting his cock rest in your folds before moving back and forth. He bites your neck, working the skin with his teeth to turn purple. Finally, he gains the courage to enter you. One hand moves to grip your thigh, while the other breaches your mouth, urging you to focus on sucking his digits. Your tongue swirls around them while he focuses on thrusting up into you.

You suck harder on his fingers as he gets more forceful with his movements, hearing the slap of his hips meeting your ass.

“So good for me.” He murmurs into your neck, feeling you clench around his cock at the praise. “My pretty girl.” Your stomach tightens at the sudden influx of compliments and pushes you closer to your release. Your mouth hangs agape, he removes his fingers and replaces them with his mouth, finally kissing you again. His hand moves down to your clit, playing with it roughly. It’s all too much and you whine out a warning before coming undone around his cock.

Your strangled moan, the feel of your juices flooding around his cock, being caught in your room, it was all entirely too much for Rowan to handle at once and he buries his face into your cheek while his cum shoots up into you. He’s a fucking creep, and he knows it- but it got him this far.

[writtenonreceipts]

Rowaelin Month Day Fourteen: Survival @rowaelinscourt

Month Masterlist // Hey, Neighbor Masterlist // AO3 Link

Part 13 of 15—I’ve had the idea of this chapter in the books since part two or three, when I decided that this story would actually play out a story arc and I would give it a decent send off.  So…yeah.  This chapter means a lot to me.  I hope it’s worth it to you.

Warnings: none, she just long. ~5.5k words.

.*.*.*.*.*.*.

Hey, Ranger

When he woke up with a hangover the following morning, Rowan couldn’t be surprised. He’d brought it on himself, after all. 

“Son of a bitch,” he cursed as he rolled out of bed.  His head pounded out a heavy rhythm and his muscles followed suit.  Stupidity won out last night and he was facing the consequences. 

His apartment was freezing as staggered down the hall to his bathroom.  Even after splashing cold water on his face, he still couldn’t quite wake up.  Unfortunately, that did not save him from the memories of the night before.

The bar.

Aelin and Fenrys.

The things he’d said.

Coming back home to drink nearly half a bottle of whiskey on his own.

He was a fool.

His mouth tasted like something had crawled in and died at some point in the night.  Rinsing with water he already grabbed his toothbrush and paste.  He hadn’t gotten blackout drunk to the point of puking his guts up, for which he was grateful.  But it had been a long, long, time since he’d drunk like that.  He knew better than to be so reckless.

As he brushed his teeth, he finally realized what else was wrong with the morning.

Rowan punched the light switch to the bathroom.  Nothing.  Nothing but the dim light coming through the small window above the toilet.  Hell.  He went back to the hall and flicked another light.  Nothing.

He finished brushing his teeth before heading back to his room to check his phone.  Thankfully the device was at a thirty percent charge.  There were a few missed texts from squad mates just making sure he was alright and a message from Gavriel.

>>Gavriel: Winter storm is picking up.  Be ready for calls at any time.  City predicts power outages. 

Well that explained that.

And why he was so cold.  He snagged a sweatshirt from his laundry basket and pulled it on.  With a little more protection against the cold, Rowan went to his hall closet for his emergency kit—the one with flashlights, candles, food rations, and other necessities.  There he found a spare battery pack that he could hook his phone up to for the extra juice.  Then he went to his living room and pulled back the drapes to see the damage the storm had brought.

An expanse of pure white greeted him.

The apartment complex was draped in a thick blanket of snow.  The street, the cars, the trees—all of it was covered.  Even now, snow still fell from the sky.  It was strange, Rowan decided; how in once instance the snow could appear so nonthreatening when in reality, he knew the chaos it could bring.

It would only be a matter of time before Gavriel called the team in.

Rowan returned to the kitchen to find a protein bar and banana to eat.  He had a propane stove he could use to heat something up if he really wanted, but the fumes wouldn’t mix well with his hangover.  Besides, he also had a protein shake and some other things that could fill him up easily enough.

For whatever reason, he glanced at his door.  He wondered if Aelin had made it home alright.  A small part of him wanted to text her, just to see.  But given the way they’d left things—he doubted she’d want to hear from him.

He groaned, squeezing the bridge of his nose with two fingers.  Had he really turned her down last night?  Had he really acted like such an ass?

Yes, on both accounts.

His past relationships really were coming in strong to screw him over.  Else…he was just that much of a coward to not move on.

His head pounded at the thoughts moving him to dig out some Tylenol from his bag.

He was just washing down the tablets with half a water bottle when his phone rang with an incoming call.  A bit of dread formed in his stomach.  Would Aelin be reaching out to him?  Or was it Gav citing some sort of disaster?

As it turned out, there was something worse than both of those options.

“Hey, Ma,” he said, answering the call.

“You’re hungover, aren’t you?” his mother asked, a little too loud.

“Ma,” Rowan groaned.

“It’s your own fault,” Iona said cheerfully.  She’d acted the same way when he came home drunk the first time in high school.  She’d woken him up loudly (and early) the next morning with plenty of rigorous activities to fill his day.  His dad wanted bring out the bagpipes and all the worst foods imaginable (and find a military camp to ship him off to, but that wasn’t anything new).

“What do you want, aside from making me regret my life choices?” Rowan asked.  He settled at his kitchen table and forced more water down.

“I just wanted to check in on you with that storm,” she replied. “I was worried with the power being out.”

“Yeah, I managed to charge my phone a little last night,” Rowan said, “you and da alright?”

“He’s pleased as punch to be able to put that snow blower to good use,” Iona replied blandly. “Thanks for that.”

“My pleasure,” he said, unable to help but smile.  His father had wanted a snow blower for ages since their driveway could be a menace in weather like this and Rowan needed a good Christmas gift to offer up. “At least it keeps him out of the house.”

His mother hummed in response. “Yes, well, when the neighbor comes complaining that he’s purposefully chasing their cats, I’ll send them your way.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Rowan said.

Iona paused in the other end and Rowan braced himself.  “Is everything alright, Rowan?”

“Just tired.” He ran a hand over his face, trying to muster a little more energy.

“How’s Aelin?”

That was the last question he wanted to answer.  Biting back a curse, Rowan tried to come up with a reasonable response.

“She’s fine, staying at her own place,” he said. “She’s probably sleeping in with this weather and everything.”

If Rowan had to guess, he would say that Aelin was in love with this weather.  It would give her an excuse to read all day, snuggle with Fleetfoot, and drink all the hot chocolate she could get her hands on.  It made him wonder if she was even prepared for a storm or power outage.

“Well, the two of you should come over for dinner once this weather clears up,” Iona said, “your father would love to meet her.”

Rowan felt a twinge of guilt. “Sure, ma.  Hey, I gottta go, my boss is calling.”

That at least wasn’t a lie.

“Stay safe, please,” his mother replied.

Rowan ended the call and answered Gavriel.

“Where we headed?” he asked, there was no use beating around the bush.

“Staghorn Resort,” Gavriel said, by the sound of it, he too had just woken up. “Reports of a missing climber.”

Which meant a long, dangerous day.

“I’ll be at the station soon,” Rowan said.

Gavriel hung up without responding.

Trying to shake off the last of his hangover, and exhaustion, Rowan stood and hurried to gather his things.

He changed into his snow gear quickly.  He’d practiced doing so hundreds of times before that the motions were automatic.  He needed to be on the move at a moment’s notice and keeping his equipment clean and available was essential.  He packed up his emergency kit, shoving a few extra protein bars in the side pocket.

Phone, keys, and bag in hand—Rowan left his apartment.  The hallway was at least five degrees colder and reminded him just how vicious this storm had gotten.  He never should have gone out last night, never should have drunk the way he did.

As long as he remained clear headed now, nothing else mattered.

When he passed Aelin’s door, he paused.  And ten, before he could second guess himself, he left the duffle bag outside her door, keeping a few protein bars for himself.  Maybe it was stupid, maybe she wouldn’t actually use any of it, maybe it would show up at his doorstep when he returned home.

But he knew Aelin and sometimes he really doubted her survival instincts.

He considered, again, to text her and let her know the bag was there.  But that may just open up the door for her to reject the bag all together.  Though, his last name was sewn in to the side so she would know who’d left it.

Before he could second guess his actions, he left the bag and headed to the station.

.*.

The lull in the storm had long since passed.

Gone were the soft flakes of lazy snowfall.  Gone was the stillness that could settle over a mountain top.  Gone was the serenity of a new day.

Instead, ice cut against skin as the wind billowed.  Limbs felt numb against the demand to keep moving.  Fire licked the insides of lungs that fought for air.

“Hiker never checked in after the storm warning was issued,” Gavriel informed the group of rangers gathered outside of the Staghorn Resort.  A knit cap was tugged low over his face and a scarf tried to stave off the rest of the storm. “He set out from the resort two days ago before the storm headed our way.  No one has had radio contact or visual since.  We’ve got our search grids set up, lets get this kid home.”

Rowan always appreciated Gavriel’s lack of indulgence.  When he wanted a job done, he didn’t ask, he demanded.  And now, when someone’s life was at risk, he made sure said demands were met.

Especially as a news crew was already set up with cameras to get as much of a story as possible.  Leeches the lot of them.

Rowan tightened his utility belt at his waist.  His ice axe, ropes, clips, compass, and an assortment of other items were all quick at hand.  He had a signal mirror and flare gun too, but he hadn’t had need for either of them before.  Hopefully wouldn’t any time soon.

They’d gone through plenty of practice searches similar to this and executed plenty in blizzard conditions too.  But Rowan knew that the dread building in his gut couldn’t be ignored.

“Whitethorn, Moonbeam—head up North.  His last GPS signal came in from sections Alpha and Bravo.”  Gavriel gave out the rest of the orders and soon they were left to disperse.

“Let’s go kid,” Rowan said, slapping Fenrys on the shoulder.

Usually, Rowan would have been partnered with Lorcan, since they were the two with the most experience on the team, and Rowan would have preferred to keep it that way. He couldn’t let those thoughts bother him now.  One little distraction could mean life or death in a situation like this. 

Fenrys kept close behind him as they trudged up to the trailhead.  There’d been little time for anyone to come and clear snow from the resort’s main pavilions and walkways.  They trudged along as quickly as they could, powdered top laying giving way to the compacted ice beneath. 

Wind whipped around them as they moved.  Even though the snow had slowed to a scant flurry, ice from the top layer and surrounding trees couldn’t be held down.  It kept the path veiled in white right up until they reached the tree line.  Finally, protected by the towering evergreens, the two rangers could move with a bit more ease.

“Who the hell’s stupid enough to want to hike the mountain in this weather?” Fenrys asked, voice elevated to be heard over the still rattling wind.

“Us,” Rowan deadpanned.

“Hilarious.”

The trail wound through the trees up, and up, and up.  They’d gain at least three hundred feet within the first half mile and by the end of the full mile nearly seven hundred.  By the time they would reach Blackbeak Peak and the signal, they would gain a thousand feet.  This wasn’t a path for the weak or weary.  Usually the resort, and the rangers, checked permits and experience diligently.  Especially in the winter months.  Fenrys did have a point: who would choose to come out in this?  Better yet: how had they gotten approved?

“I think it’s some National Geographic photographer or something,” Rowan said. “Supposed to be experienced.”

“An experienced idiot,” Fenrys agreed.

Rowan couldn’t help but chuckle at that. “We can yell at them once we find them.”

They kept a steady pace, quick enough to keep up momentum, but easy enough to note tire themselves out.  Being worn out when they found their lost hiker wouldn’t do anyone much good. 

Everything was drenched in a silence that only came with a day like this.  The snow ate up all the sound that once would have dominated the trails.  Even Rowan’s breathing, his heavy steps, were muted.

“Did Aelin make it back last night?” Fenrys asked after a few exhausting minutes of trekking through snow.

Rowan glanced over at the younger man.  Fenrys was half hidden beneath a hat, goggles, and scarf that Rowan couldn’t tell what he was thinking.

“What do you mean?” he asked.  Part of him wanted to pick up the pace to leave Fenrys behind and avoid this topic all together.

“She left, like, right after you did,” Fenrys said, “figured she caught up with you.”

Another few minutes of silence as the trail curled right and made another incline.  Rowan checked his phone for coordinates of where the last signal came through.  They had too much ground to cover.

“She didn’t,” Rowan said.  “I went back to my place and had another drink.” Or four. “I thought you’d know when she left.”

“Man,” Fenrys said, “you’re an idiot.”

Rowan punched him in the arm.  Much to his satisfaction, Fenrys stumbled a little.

“I’m just saying,” Fenrys insisted as he caught himself. “Pretty sure she only came to bar for you.  Brought cookies by the station, for you.”

Rowan had no response to that.

The next half mile was torture as they wove their way up the mountain.  Most of the main trail was covered with snow so they had to deviate in places.  But they tried to keep as direct a path as they could.  Their missing hiker would have done the same.  Insane as they were to come up here to begin with, they had to have at least a little bit of common sense.

Any tracks or sign of the hiker would have long since vanished.  There’d been enough snow and wind to cover anything helpful.  Still, Rowan kept a sharp eye.  He even made sure to check surrounding trees for any sort of tie off the hiker would have used to mark their path in case they got lost.

The terrain grew harder the more they climbed and Rowan and Fenrys stopped on occasion to catch their breaths and find a little reprieve.  They used their breaks to search the area and dig in a few places for any sign of a past camp or lost equipment.

Rowan had no idea how long they’d been searching, but he could tell it had been a while.  The constant cloud coverage made it difficult to tell what time it was, but there was a subtle shifting to that shadows.  They would need to turn back eventually if they wanted to see their own safe return.

“How much longer?” Fenrys asked, breaking for a drink of water.

“We keep going until we find our missing hiker,” Rowan said.  He checked their placement.  They were close to the last signal, but if he was right, they were also nearing a narrow stretch of trail that even without snow and ice was difficult to pass through.

Fenrys shoved off the tree he was leaning against.  He’d unzipped the outer layer of his jacket.  Even if it was icy cold, they’d been working hard and exerting themselves.

“We gotta be smart about this,” Fenrys began.

“And we are,” Rowan said.  “It’ll take an hour to get to the last signal location.  Just to that point.”

Fenrys looked up to the sky, past the canopy of the trees. “It’s too quiet.”

“I know.”

Despite Fenrys’s reservations on the matter, the two rangers readied themselves quickly to take off again.

Rowan led the way up the path.  He’d hiked along this trail before and knew the general direction it led.  Though, the thick blanket of snow, the deep unrest that accompanied it, changed the way Rowan saw these woods.  Experience had him walking carefully by testing different patches of snow before stepping.  He watched the trees, trying to determine how the snow drifts had rose.

It took another hour before they came to small plateau in the trail.  The trees dropped off along the right and the left had a blank slate of stone and clinging ice.  A cliff face.  The trail clung to the side going all the way around.  It was known as Blackbeak Peak for how deadly it could be to travel the area.

“Easy,” Fenrys called from behind him.

Usually, Fenrys’s youth and reckless behavior was unruly.  In this case he’d finally taken on a bit of hesitation.  Rowan waved him off. 

The hiker’s signal was nearby.  Or had been twelve hours ago.  Rowan hoped that the hiker had gotten spooked by the storm and found a place to hole up.  But the path was narrow, the plateau deceiving.  One wrong move could mean death. 

Rowan stepped out onto a fresh patch of powdered snow.  His boots crunched gently, the snow shifting with his weight.  He stepped again, another crunch and shift.  Overhead, the break in the trees revealed the gray clouds of a messy day.  The snow had been intermittent, the wind constant.  And now, outside of the protection of the trees, Rowan could feel the stinging assault even through his clothes. 

He was right on top of the signal, now.  There was nothing to indicate anyone else was here.  Nothing but—

There, just a few yards ahead; fallen branches, a half leaning tree.

“There,” Rowan called, loud enough for Fenrys to hear.  He pointed out where the discrepancy in scenery appeared.

“That’s a cliff, Rowan,” Fenrys said. “You can’t get that close.”

Rowan didn’t listen.  He knew this area, knew where the cliff was, how to test the snow.  He made it a few steps before something caught his eye.  There was a flicker of red fabric. 

“I got something,” Rowan said. 

He made his way forward, easing along the snow and ice.  He moved slow, patient as he listened and felt for any shifting beneath him.  Behind him, he heard Fenrys talk into the radio.

“Base, this is Moonbeam.  We got something up on Blackbeak Peak, requesting air support.”  The radio crackled with dead air. “Base camp, base camp.”

Rowan listened as Fenrys continued to try the radio.  He eased another few steps forward.  The red fabric became more distinct.  A tent, half fallen off the cliff side.

“Whitethorn!” Fenrys yelled. “Get back here.  It’s not safe.”

“He’s been out here over twelve hours,” Rowan yelled back. “He needs help if he’s there at all.”

If he was still alive.

But Rowan wasn’t going to think about that possibility. 

“Whitethorn!”

Another step.  Another hiss of wind. 

And the following silence was deafening.

An uneasy feeling rolled through him.  He’d been on plenty of rescues in the snow and he took risks with each one.  He took a lot of risks.  And most of the time they were justified.  He’d always found a bit of a thrill that came with each one.  A bit of meaning.  He liked the danger of it.  Liked feeling as though he could accomplish something, be something.  He’d made plenty of rescues over the years, had helped countless people, and followed various leads.  He knew his job.  But now, as his stomach roiled and his skin crawled, he wondered if he were making a mistake.

Rowan managed another few steps.  He was getting closer to the edge, closer to unstable ground.

“Nox Nox!” He called. “Nox, it’s search and rescue, call out!”

The tent shifted just a little.  A flap fell open to reveal a small slit.

“Hello?” a voice called.

“Stay there, I’m coming to you!” Rowan fixed his stance, crouching to adjust his center of gravity.

Behind him, Fenrys let out an angry shout.

“Whitethorn!”

Just a few feet away now.

He knew he wouldn’t find stable ground for a stake and harness here, so rowan moved towards a free-standing tree.  It was just as close to the edge as the tent was.  There was no other choice but to continue.

Rowan managed to tie off a line to the tree, clipped his belt and harness and eased toward the tent.

“Are you injured?” Rowan called to Nox.

“Sprained ankle,” Nox replied. “The ground’s unsteady here.  I thought I was staked down until the wind picked up.  It’s been a whiteout and I haven’t been able to get out.”

“Just relax,” Rowan said. “I’m coming to you.  Can you get that flap open anymore?”

Nox responded by unzipping the tent, sticking his head out.  He was bundled up the best he could, but he still looked frozen over with frost clinging to his lashes and a bluish tint to his skin.

“Let’s go,” Rowan said.  He handed over an extra harness for Nox to clip into. “You’re gonna have to use your ankle a little.  We can’t get a ’copter up in this weather.”

“Alright,” Nox agreed.  To his credit, he bit back any groans of pain or complaint as he moved. “It’s been quiet and I thought I could move, but then I realized where I was on this cliff.”

“You did good,” Rowan said, no use berating the man for even coming up in this weather to begin with.  “Those shots must have been important to get.”

“No one’s gotten shots of Blackbeak Peak like this,” Nox said, small smile flashing on his face. “There’s a waterfall I wanted to try and get.  I should have realized.”

Rowan checked the photographer’s harness and clips.  He made sure everything was secure before nodding up the small slope they were on.

“You’re going first, Rowan said, “and I’ll follow after.”

Nox started moving in response.  He left everything behind but his camera case, slung tightly across his back.  Rowan wouldn’t begrudge him that. 

Progress was slow despite how eager they both were to get off the damn cliff side.

And then the silence broke with a deep rumble that could have been thunder.

Rowan’s protective goggles were thick with water and frost, revealing nothing as he looked up.  But he knew.

“Avalanche.”

.*.

Aelin did not want to get out of bed.  It had nothing to do with the headache, truly it didn’t.  She’d been responsible with her drinking last night despite how miserable she felt.

Beside her, Fleetfoot stretched out.  The dog’s warm body pressed against her.  For once, not insistent to get out of bed.  Maybe the pup could sense Aelin’s crummy mood.  Or the shift in the weather.

Aelin glanced at her phone only to find it dead even though it was plugged into the wall charger.  She frowned and looked to her alarm clock.  The red digits were gone.  Power outage.

Groaning, Aelin flopped on her back.  It was one of those days then.

She fought against the desire to roll back over and instead slipped out of bed.  Hissing against the cold, Aelin stumbled for her fluffy robe.  She dropped a kiss to Fleetfoot’s head before shuffling down the hall to her kitchen.

The window in the living room revealed the snowy, white day.  It was a stark contrast to how she’d ended the night. 

She filled a class of water and sucked it down before scrounging around for something to eat.  Of course she had nothing.  At least there was still food for Fleetfoot.  Topping off the dog food bowl, she peeked into her fridge.  Nothing but pickles and eggs.  She really had to get her life together.

Aelin rubbed her eyes and went to her door.  She didn’t know what it was but something possessed her to open the door.

There, sitting on the mat was a black duffle bag.

And immediately, she knew.  Even before she saw the name sewn into the side.

She grabbed the bag and shut her door, locking it to be safe.  It was hefty, at least thirty pounds.

“Hell, buzzard,” Aelin muttered.  She should have known his apocalypse kit would be over the top.

Fleetfoot slowly ambled out of the bedroom and into the kitchen.  She sniffed her food before dismissing it entirely, favoring a spot on the couch instead.

Aelin set the bag on her table and unzipped it.  There was no note, unsurprising.  And no chocolate waiting either, unsurprising again.  But there was a protein bar.  Aelin grabbed that and tore it open.  It was only a little bit disgusting.  She riffled through the bag a little more and found clothes, a blanket, Hot Hands, non-perishable food, flashlight and batteries, and a portable charger for a phone.  Chord included.  And that was only half of it.

Her heart gave a painful little tug at the sight of it all.

The bastard.

I can’t, he’d said.  Let her walk away.  Made her mind a muddled, lonely mess.

She went to retrieve her phone so she could at least get a little charge and check in with people.

As she waited for the charge, she changed into leggings, a sweatshirt, and thick socks.  Piling her hair into a top knot she decided to go for another protein bar.  She may as well get a little more food in her stomach.  She topped it off with some more water before powering her phone on.

She’d slept in a ridiculously long time.  It was nearing three in the afternoon, for Mala’s sake.

There were a few missed messages.  Her mother sent a check in text to which Aelin responded to let her know the weather hadn’t quite gotten her down.  There was also a message from Elide letting her know that she too was safe.  She hadn’t gone home with the other search and rescue guy, but Aelin had a feeling there was something more going on with that.  She texted her friend that she too was safe.  Finally, there was a missed call from an unknown number and a follow up text.

>>UNKNOWN: Aelin, this is Iona, I just wanted to check in with you and this weather.  I know Rowan was called in on a shift, I hope you’re safe and warm.

The woman had added a heart and smiley emoji.  Aelin couldn’t help but smile a little.  She wished she didn’t have to give the other woman up after everything with Rowan.

She decided it wouldn’t hurt to called the other woman.

Iona picked up after two rings.

“Aelin?”

“Hi,” Aelin said, paused trying to decide what to call her. “Iona.  Sorry, I figured it would be better to call you back.”

“Of course,” Iona said, “I’m sorry if it was odd getting a call from me.  I exchanged numbers with your mother and she offered me yours in case anything happened.”

“No, no,” Aelin said quickly, “please.  I don’t mind at all.”

“I just wanted to check in,” Iona repeated with a small chuckle.

Aelin glanced back to her window and the snow expanse waiting.  She had a feeling she knew why the woman had called in the first place.  It was nice, she decided, to have someone to talk to.

“I appreciated it,” Aelin said, “thankfully, I only just woke up and have no plans of leaving the apartment.”

“Good, and how is Fleetfoot?” Iona asked.

Aelin smiled again. “Just as happy to be indoors.  And you?  No need to head outside, I hope?”

“None at all,” Iona said. “My husband, Seamus, is the great adventurer.  He’s to blame for Rowan’s own wild nature.”

“Oh, I bet there’s stories to tell.”  Aelin settled into a kitchen chair as Iona launched into just a story.

Three stories later, Aelin had plenty of ammunition to use against Rowan when she saw him again.

When.

Aelin swallowed back the lump that formed in her throat.

She didn’t know what had happened between her and Rowan last night, didn’t know if there had been anything between them to begin with.  But she wanted to know, for sure, the what and the why.

Just then, the power flickered back on.

“Oh thank goodness,” Aelin said.  She’d never been more grateful for heating.  Maybe that chill in her fingers would finally go away. “Is the power back on for you?”

“Yes, good.  Maybe this will finally…” Iona trailed off.  In the background, the television crackled. “Oh, oh dear.”

Aelin paused at the woman’s tone. “Iona?”

“You should turn the news on,” Iona murmured.  The woman shuffled on her end and moved closer to the television.  Aelin didn’t need to turn on her own new station to hear what was going on.

“…avalanche in the Staghorns actively disrupting a rescue operation.  As far as we know, two rescuers are still on the mountain.  No contact has been made as of yet.”

“Oh, Mala.” Aelin whispered.

.*.

It wasn’t the cold that Rowan felt.  Not the chill of the wind nor the bite of the ice.  In fact, he was numb.  Numb to everything.  Numb to everything except the ache in his chest and burning heat licking up his leg.

So maybe he wouldn’t freeze to death.  Shame.  That was the easiest way to go.  Easier than falling asleep.

He was surrounded by nothing.  Nothing and everything.  White and black.  Silence and noise.

And he had no idea how to escape.

Slowly, so painfully slow, Rowan moved his hand, feeling along his side until he came the halter and rope still clipped there.  At least it still felt clipped there.  He couldn’t tell if the tension was from the snow or being hooked to the tree.

He took in a sharp breath that sent pain ricocheting through his chest.  At least one broken rib.  Two if he wasn’t mistaken.  And he didn’t even want to think about his leg.

He had to get his head out of the snow and ice.  Had to get air.  The one hand that wasn’t at his side was close enough to his face that he was able to create an air pocket by wigging his fingers and shifting his hand.  The snow was stiff, heavy.  Already settled.  He didn’t have much time.

After taking a shaky gulp of air, Rowan pushed his hand up and tried to create a swimming motion.  He had no idea where Nox was, or if they were still connected.  He could only hope the photographer was still alive. 

Somehow, somehow, his hand broke through the surface of the snow.  He could feel the freedom even without seeing it.

With every movement he made, more pain bolted through his body.

He couldn’t give up.  He couldn’t stop moving.  He was close.  So close.

He continued pushing snow aside, clawing his way up.  His only chance at survival was to keep fighting.  Keep fighting so he could get back home.  So he could make sure his ma and da didn’t worry.  So he could see Aelin—

Rowan bit back a curse.

His head found fresh air next.

His goggles were blessedly still intact.  Covered in ice and a little fogged up, but still protecting him.  It was still day, a little darker from before the avalanche, but still light.  Good that was good.

The line at his waist was still taut, Rowan took that as a sign Nox Nox was still nearby.

He started pushing aside snow, digging a little to try and locate the man.  He found broken branches and a few rocks.  And then the black layer of a snow coat.  Rowan gripped the fabric and yanked.

The motion made his entire body burn and a scream tore through him.  And then Nox was free.  Rowan feared the worst until he let out a low moan of pain.

“Still with me, Nox?” he gasped.

“Some rescue,” the man replied, ragged and pained.

“Not there yet,” Rowan said.

They lay there, atop the snow and ice, staring up at the endless gray sky. 

Rowan tried to slow his breathing, tried to slow his breathing.  Nothing but his thoughts faded.  Slowly, until a black haze encroached on his vision.

His last thought before he passed out was that he should have gone after Aelin.

.*.

I did a little research on avalanches and SAR equipment, but not a lot on like actual protocols.  So, if its not accurate I apologize.  I did my best, especially with the actual survival stuff lol. Just a side note there.

[mariaofdoranelle]

Cemetery Buddies

Written for @throneofglassmicrofics, prompt “Petrichor”

So, I wrote this today at the cemetery instead of the chapters I actually have to finish, because it felt too weird to write smut by my grandfather’s grave. I was there the entire afternoon and I kinda conjured this fic on the spot, but I really hope you like it!

Warnings: mentions of death of loved ones, quick mention of death by covid

Words: 888

Aelin’s picnic blanket did a good job of protecting her clothes from the dewy grass, but not from its gentle prickling on the exposed part of her legs. It felt peaceful, though. She got used to the silence, the soft ruffling of leaves and chirping of birds filling her days in the past two years.

Just her and her parents hanging out together, like old times.

The cemetery staff were even kind enough to lend her a beach umbrella in case the rain came back.

A delighted sigh. Don’t you love the smell of petrichor, Mom? Aelin echoed inside her head, because she still thought it was weird to talk to a grave.

She slid her crochet hat over her face and closed her eyes, feeling the nature surrounding her instead of watching this landscape of flowers and white stones she knew so well. Feeling the wind battle against the edges of her blanket and lose it when her weight overpowered its strength. The sunlight peeking from parted post-rain clouds burned in a delicious way the long stretches of skin her overall shorts left exposed.

She lived in Orynth, after all. Aelin and her parents always made a point to make the most out of summer, for however long this freezing city and its climatic crisis allowed them to.

“You okay there?”

Aelin lifted her hat from her face enough to take a peek into the outside world, but she didn’t need it to know it was her cemetery buddy.

Fully sat on the blanket now, she eyed the Heineken six-pack on Rowan’s hand with a smirk.

“Better now that you brought the good shit.”

He gave her a close-lipped smile and unfolded the two chairs provided at the entrance by the staff, since Mr. Fancy Pants preferred it over lying on the grass like Aelin.

To an outside observer, the difference between them is striking. Rowan in his dark suit and tie, brooding with that permanent scowl on his face; right by his side, Aelin’s in denim overall shorts, red top and crochet hat, being her usual fun, dazzling self.

Both hanging out together, sharing beer by their loved ones’ graves. What made them good friends wasn’t their differences, but how similarly they were miserable.

“So.” She cleared her throat and eyed the six-pack. “I guess things didn’t go the way you wanted at work?”

“Lorcan—“

She tilted her head, brows furrowed in confusion.

“The boss’ kiss-ass,” he explained.

“Oh, that guy.” Aelin said with a grimace. She did not like this Lorcan person, even if he had a friendship of sorts with Rowan. “Tell me what he did this time.”

Today, she was loosened up enough by the weather and the beer, and it happened that Rowan was also a little chatty as well. Sometimes they silently sit side by side. Sometimes Aelin doesn’t sit, she kneels on the grass and hums ancient Terrasenian laments, which her buddy raptly listens to. Sometimes Rowan starts venting about his lack of ability to keep his deceased wife’s garden, leaves for the bathroom and comes back with red-rimmed eyes.

It’s getting progressively less dramatic, though. During the majority of the last few months, they’ve been just talking and sharing snacks.

His wife and Aelin’s dad died of COVID at approximately the same time, four years ago—hence why their graves are so close together. Her mom ended up sharing a grave with her husband a while after, but Aelin and Rowan didn’t cross paths at the cemetery until a year and a half ago, when their respective visiting habits finally overlapped.

And at some point during visits to their loved ones’ graves concurrently, they slowly forged a friendship—emphasis on the slow part, and no thanks to Rowan’s closed-off personality.

However, their conversation was cut short when an employee signaled that they were nearing closing time.

“So…” Aelin let out a performative sigh to chase away the awkwardness of goodbye. “Same time next week?”

Instead of answering, Rowan pointed his phone at her face, squinted at the screen for several seconds, then retreated the device.

Aelin tilted her head. Care to explain? she silently asked.

Rowan had a soft smile while he studied whatever was on his screen, for a longer time than expected, then jutted his chin towards her face. “I’m sending my mom a picture.”

During one of the rare occasions Rowan’s mom visited Lyria’s grave with her son, they found Aelin alone under a merciless sun. The older woman was scandalized. She made Aelin stay under her umbrella, forced Rowan to walk the long stretch back to the reception and get another one with the staff, and in the meantime very surreptitiously asked Aelin what her favorite color was.

With a soft chuckle, she took off her crocheted red hat with white daisy patches, handmade especially for her. “Did you tell her how much I love it?”

“Only after the first few times you told me to. The woman’s already too smug.”

“As she should be!”

Aelin still hadn’t got used to it, the sound of Rowan’s laugh. Maybe he was different outside of the cemetery—she wouldn’t know—but now he had a lightness of sorts that showed itself more and more frequently as the days passed, and she could only be happy to witness this change in him.

You can get notified when I update by either turning notifications on for @mariaofdoranelle-fics or entering my (sometimes glitchy) tag list!!

TAG LIST

@aelinchocolatelover

@autumnbabylon

@bookcide

@booksandteaonarainydayislife

@cookiemonsterwholovesbooks

@courtofjurdan

@dreamer-133

@elentiyawhitethorn

@elizarikaallen

@emily-gsh

@empress-ofbloodshed

@fangirlprincess09

@goddess-aelin

@gracie-rosee

@leiawritesstories

@lululululululuop

@renxzs

@rowanaelinn

@s-uppertime

@sarahjswift

@staghorn-mountains

@superspiritfestival

@swankii-art-teacher

@thegreyj

@throneofus7

@violet-mermaid7

@wishfulimaginings

[acourtofquestions]

Lorcan: odds are 500 to 8

Aelin: *pops knuckles* “I got dis” *takes off running towards the demon- army*

Lysandra: *dives into monster swamp*

Elide: did you not hear the part about the odds being FIVE HUNDRED AGAINST US?!?

Aedion: *already half way up a mountain — shrugs*

Dorian: … she said she got dis… so… we good.

Gavriel: I’m still trying to heal 24 years of abandonment issues… this feels like the safe bet to join in…

Manon: *picking at iron nails* I mean I was gonna go kill something anyway

Rowan: I’m following her to the end of the earth so this felt about right.

[aloekat]

giving pokemon teams to d20 characters!

The Unsleeping City S1 & S2

pt 2/?

part 1 || part 2

second verse same as the first, check out part one for my guidelines on how i made the teams! short version is only 4 pokemon per team, no repeats, and little to no shinies or legendaries

fun fact the unsleeping city was actually the first season i thought of pokemon for, and why i started to make teams in the first place!

i also like unsleeping city a uhhh a lot less than fantasy high so my fantasy high picks (part 1) are a lot more thought out and maybe cooler than these picks but hey i'm still happy with these!

oh also unsleeping ch. 1 and 2 spoilers ahead of course :]

Sophia

Purugly - symbolizing La Gran Gata! also it just feels like Sophia would have this pokemon it fits her Vibe

Furfrou (Heart Trim) - she is a hair stylist!! of course she would have the hair stylized dog!!! she mainly keeps her as the heart trim but it doesnt 100 percent always stay that way

Mienshao - cool and cute monk pokemon for obvious reasons lol

Raticate - represents kugrash after he dies(?). shockingly the raticate and purugly get along well, and are actually pretty nice with each other

Ricky

Boltund - there’s no dalmatian pokemon (which there should be maybe) so this is the closest i got to representing Ox! boltunds are VERY fast though so it still works lol

Blastoise - what better pokemon to have as a fireman than a giant water tank? probably got a squirtle when he was young and it evolved as he grew up :]

Kleavor - represents the fireman ax he carried

Machamp - Ricky is all about exercise so naturally i gave him the super buff pokemon. they probably train together and like do pushups or whatever fit people do

Kingston

Dachsbun - representing both the dog he gets in season 2 along with bagels in general, which seems to be a symbol for him (see the vox populi pin)

Drampa - similar to how i imagine the dragon of bleaker’s street would look, it also just feels like an old man of a pokemon (which kingston is)

Blissey - i like to imagine doctors/nurses get blisseys once they like are hired in healthcare to help their trainers with the patients (and also blisseys are absolute TANKS in terms of defense)

Magnezone - Kingston did that cool tech shutdown/takeover thing in one of the season one battles at the stock market and i thought that was cool. and also it fits because Vibes

Misty / Rowan

Gardevoir - a beautiful pokemon that always looks youthful, just like Rowan

Primarina - a singing pokemon that wouldve helped Misty practice her singing for plays

Meloetta - same reason, a singing pokemon lol

Scream Tail - rather than a standard Jigglypuff i would like to imagine an ancient thousand year old one was much more interesting! it also ties to Rowan's reincarnation thing she has goin' on

Iga

Goodra - a dragon to represent the storybook dragon inside of the chest she has! i didn’t do charizard because i saved that one for a future season team (take a guess who)

Gimmighoul - a chest pokemon because. she. she has a chest thats very important to her. yeah!!!

Perrserker - pure vibes i just feel she would have this pokemon lol

Hatterene - also mostly vibes, she Is a psychic so it works but yeah she gets a hatterene because i say so

Kugrash

Rapidash (Galarian) - unicorn totem

Unfezant (Male) - spicy pigeon totem

Ladyba - juicy cockroach totem (i didn’t do kricketune because i want to use it for a later team. can you again guess who)

Arceus - our first true legendary! kugrash literally becomes omnipotent so you know what he can have pokemon god on his team

Cody

Aegislash (Shiny) - it’s literally The sword pokemon of course Cody would have one. it’s shiny because if he spent a long time growing his real sword collection he can spend a long time finding a shiny. also it’s black and red like Thirsting Blade Dark Excalibur Mega Genesis

Grimmsnarl - the most emo pokemon ive ever seen so of course Cody gets it. as a treat

Houndoom - “but aloe why didn’t you give this to Fig?!” shshhhshshhhh. listen my sweet child. houndoom is for the emo boys. which Cody is. and also also it parallels the other paladin on the team, Ricky, and his dog pokemon, Boltund. does that make sense….

Corviknight - emo pokemon #3 on the team. also knight means sword so in a roundabout way it’s another sword related pokemon

Pete

Polteageist - Pete has a teapot in his official art and while yes. it is blue and so is the non-shiny form i think purple in general fits Pete a LOT more than blue so here we are lol

Musharna - literally the dream pokemon this was an easy peasy pick and very obvious

Hypno - another dream-like pokemon but much more scary to maybe represent a sort of nightmare compared to the sweeter dreams from Musharna

Vivillion (Garden Pattern) - representing Luna his green butterfly familiar! i feel like everyone (including the PCs) forget Luna exists and it makes me a little sad :(

=====

that's all for this new york team! i plan on doing a crown of candy next :]

have any suggestions or changes you would make? let me know i would love to hear your takes on the teams :D!

[ornii]

Bitterly Beautiful, Part 3

Part 3: “Do You See what I see?”

"Let's assess this situation, shall we? There's Bag over my head for, whatever reason. My wrists tied tight enough to cut off circulation, and no idea if I'm going to live or die. Wednesday is probably upset I somehow didn't see this coming, as Corny as that was."

(Y/n) and Wednesday sit side by side in chairs, bound by rope and Bagged. Their bags are removed. They're still within the library, surrounded by masked and cloaked individuals.

"Hmmm, what's the best response, a cry for help? A plead for a deal? Perhaps I'll yell at them to let us go, oh! I have it!" He thinks and spoke up.

"Just a word of advice before you guys do another kidnapping, it's pretty offensive to put a bag over the head of a guy who can't see to begin with. Be better." He says, and one of the members steps up.

"Who dares breach our inner sanctum?" They say.

"You can take the mask off, Bianca." Wednesday said, and Bianca removes her mask.

"Ah, I knew that voice had a distinct bitchy tone."

"And just like that, my hopes were dashed against the rocks of bitter disappointment. My foe was no psychotic killer. More like a bunch of high school clowns." Wednesday thought. "Wait, I preferred you with it on."

"How did you get down here?"

"I tracked the watermark to the Poe statue." Wednesday said.

"Then I solved the riddle to get in here." (Y/n) chimes in.

"Wait, there's a riddle? I thought we just snapped twice." One member asks.

"Wow, this is probably the least threatening group of Kidnappers i have ever seen, it's not many I've seen but still."

"Well, aren't you the brightest in the bunch?"

"The Nightshades are an elite social club." Bianca said, and Xavier steps up, revealing he himself is also one with Ajax and others. "Emphasis on elite."

"We have roof parties, campouts, the occasional midnight skinny-dip."

"And Yoko's an amateur mixologist. She makes a killer virgin mojito. It can get pretty wild."

"Wow. Do you guys even have a bedtime?" Wednesday said. "Last I heard, the Nightshades had been disbanded."

"Yeah, the group kind of lost its charter 30 years ago after some normie kid died." Xavier adds in.

"But we have a lot of wealthy alumni, so Weems looks the other way as long as nobody makes any waves." Yoko said.

"Someone like Rowan?" Wednesday asked.

"We booted that loser last semester. Question is, what are we gonna do with them? Only members are allowed in this library." One asks, and Xavier steps up next to them.

"I say we invite them to pledge. They're both legacies, Especially (Y/n), son of King Buarainech, the last leader of the Fomorians."

"After the crap they pulled in the Poe Cup, there's no way in hell. We talk about not making waves? She's a tsunami and he's just a thunderstorm brewing."

"Just because I beat you at your own game? Let me save you the trouble. I'm not interested in joining." Wednesday said.

"You're seriously turning us down?" One asks.

"Can you believe it?" Wednesday responds coldly.

"Untie her."

"I freed myself five minutes ago." Wednesday stands up, showing her untied rope.

"It's amateurs like you who give kidnapping a bad name. Anyway when you're done with toying with the Bootleg Secret Society (Y/n), I'll be waiting." Wednesday left, they stood there, looking a bit dumb, only the silence to be halted off by laughing. (Y/n)'s subsequently.

"That girl.. she's a force of nature.." he says smiling, he sighs eventually and cracks his neck.

"As much as I'd enjoy the parties and Skinny dipping, I'd rather do that by myself than a bunch of rich elitism bearing assholes, so...Go dtuga gaotha Sídhe saor m'anam."

A gust hits his bindings and unties him, he stands up and dusts himself off. He heads upstairs, leaving the elite looking even more dumbfounded.

"There were so many threads to my investigation, I could weave a burial shroud. I still have no idea how Rowan mysteriously rose from the dead. Or why that monster is prowling the woods. But right now, nothing intrigues me more than this book. If I'm going to be responsible for Nevermore's demise, the question is, why am I sharing this apocalypse with a pilgrim?"

The Next Morning Rose Like an undead zombie , early and still. Students stand in the courtyard to gather for what Principal Weems has to say, (Y/n) arrives as Enid drags him along out of bed.

"All students will report for their volunteer jobs at 10:00 a.m. sharp, followed by a community lunch at 1:00. As you know, this year Outreach Day culminates in a very special event, the dedication of a new memorial statue in the town square, which will also include performances by Nevermore students." She begins, while (Y/n) and Enid catch up.

"So, what's the deets between you and Wednesday?" She asks, her interest in his relationships was, off putting a bit.

"I.. haven't a faintest clue what you mean." He says acting dumb

"You can't play dumb, your best asset is that you're insanely Smart and like, Super Hot. Like a tragic poet. But seriously everyone sees you prowling around with her." Enid says, and has a hint of jealousy in her voice. "We haven't been spending as much time together." She says and he lets out a soft sigh.

"I know, sorry about that, I'm just showing her the ropes and, admittedly she isn't as bad as i thought she would have been. She can be absolutely terrifying but I mean who can't? You can be pretty scary when the Kittys claws come out." He says, which is reassuring to Enid.

"Well, at least I know I'm not losing my Bestie." She says warmly and takes his hand. Wednesday tilts her attention towards it, watching.

"Of course not, we can hang out after Outreach day. I'll smooth everything over with Ajax for you too, he's not as, cloud minded as i thought." He says, they're approached by another school member and handed Pamphlets, Enid opens hers and squeaks a bit.

"Yes! Yes! I got Pilgrim World. I have natural people skills and a love of performing, so it's kind of the obvi choice." She says, he hands her his and she checks it. "You got it too! This is perfect! All we need is Wednesday—"

As if speaking the Devils name and she appears, Wednesday approaches them as she’s watching their very... friendly, interaction.

"Wednesday, What'd you get?" Enid asks.

"Uriah's Heap, whatever that is." She replies.

"Ew. It's this weird, creepy antique store." Enid explains, (Y/n) taps his cane on the ground.

"It actually had some pretty neat stuff, it's where I got my cane, You'll love it though." He said, they're shuttled to Jericho, they depart off the bus and to their respective locations, but Wednesday approaches Enid with an offer.

"Enid. Switch volunteer assignments."

"What? No. Uriah's Heap is definitely not my bag."

"It's an emergency. I need to check out Pilgrim World." Wednesday says, and Enid frowns at her.

"You know you can go a day without (Y/n), it's toxic to get so dependent on someone." Enid says, trying to help Wednesday, who was actually a bit stunned by that. Her jaw locks and she stiffens up a bit, keeping her emotions in check but internally boiling at the thought of her and (Y/n), Together? Perhaps it's anger, Perhaps it's embarrassment, perhaps it's wanting. Wednesday, as usual, shoves her emotions down deep and calms herself.

"(Y/n) and I work a professional relationship to investigate something, nothing more. Nothing less." Wednesday said through her gritting teeth. Enid just sighs.

"Denial is the first Symptom, of Love Struck-itis." Enid says, much to the annoyance of Wednesday

"Why would I agree to spend the entire day at some dumpy emporium of crapola?" She said, and Wednesday offers her a very enticing offer.

"Because Ajax is volunteering there. Thing sneaked a peek at his assignment. But if you're not interested..."

"No! Oh my God, thank you. You're the best!" Enid takes it and runs off, Wednesday heads to pilgrim World with an awaiting (Y/n) he turns to Wednesday, sending the dread approaching.

"Hey, want to take a Pilgrim group photo?" He Says Smiling, which Wednesday just stares daggers at him.

"Guess not." He says shrugging. They're interrupted by a woman dressed as such a pilgrim.

"Good morrow, my young Nevermore kin. I am Mistress Arlene. A real OC..." she begins, which confuses most. "Original colonist. Now prithee, put your cell phones on vibrate and make haste, for you are about to travel back in time to the year of our Lord 1625, to Jericho's first pilgrim settlement. Yonder. Behold, the meeting house. Inside is a collection of artifacts related to Jericho's most beloved and pious founder, Joseph Crackstone. And beyond is our privy, America's first gender-neutral restroom."

"I haveth a query." Wednesday chirps up from the ground, standing by the wayside with (Y/n), who feigned interest.

"Pray, be quick, child." She replies.

"In the meeting house, which of Joseph Crackstone's artifacts are on display?"

"It is truly a treasure trove, including original farm tools, tableware, even the Crackstone family chamber pot."

"Riveting" (Y/n) said sarcastically.

"I volunteer to work in there." Wednesday says.

"Pray, no. That exhibit is being renovated. Today, thou will all be working at the beating heart of Pilgrim World." She says and Leads them to a building, with a sign (Y/n) looks up towards.

"...So, what does it say?" He asks Wednesday.

"I'm not your personal eyes." She says with her cold classic demeanor.

"Please?" He asks, turning up his cuteness, which just makes Wednesday want to vomit. She scoffs.

"Only to make you stop making those faces, it says "Ye Olde Fudgery"..More like ye olde diabetes in a box."

"Volunteers, prick up thine ears. Fudge is the lifeblood of our humble community. And samples equal sales, so grab a uniform and a box and make our forefathers proud." The woman hands the two uniforms of that of ancient pilgrims. The two look at them and take them, reluctantly the two dress as pilgrims and prepare to serve the people, Wednesday, being as creepy as she usually is, prepares blocks of fudge and speaks in fluent German.

"Enjoy your "authentic" pilgrim fudge made with cacao beans procured by the oppressed indigenous people of the Amazon. All proceeds go to uphold this pathetic whitewashing of American history. Also, fudge wasn't invented for another 258 years. Any takers?" She says offering to the German tourists, who do not take it, she takes this opportunity to walk off, and find her partner in crime, which (Y/n) was using a knife to, with scary precision, cut blocks of Fudge into tiny squares, he halts as he sensed Wednesday. Her lack of Heartbeat and Cold aura was easily detectable.

"So, enjoying Tormenting Tourists?" He said and jams the knife into the table, she stands there.

"Come with me, there is something we need to investigate."

"Hm, I thought you were flying solo." He said, "You know, no friends and that." He said and Wednesday looks at him, no hesitation in her eyes.

"As Annoying, egotistical, overbearing and as much of a nuisance as you are, you're valuable to the investigation." She says, he smiles and walks over to her, and with no fear in his heart, pats her head, which causes her to scowl at him.

"Thanks Shortie... okay, lead away." He says, they sneak away as (Y/n) follows.

"So, besides you hating everything about me, why do you tag me along?"

"You remind me of my brother, sans the desire to strangle him every waking moment. Now follow me. I need to know more about this Crackstone. We have a meeting house to break into." she says and they get to a door, Wednesday, using a hairpin picks the lock and the door opens, they slowly open it and peer inside, they step in and close themselves in to investigate the old museum, which has glass displays of items back from that time, even a statue of Crackstone.

"My grandmother once told me secrets are like zombies... they never truly die. I'm not sure what secret Crackstone is hiding, but I have a strange feeling the answers to my future lie in the past." Wednesday says, the two look around, his hands slide across something, it's indented, he can make out words.

"The Old Meeting House, 1625. Wednesday.." he says, she walks over to see it.

"(Y/n), this is the girl I've seen . She's even holding the same book. That black one she had outside Crackstone's crypt." Wednesday says, they turn around and (Y/n) turns around to a display case. Wednesday peers into it.

"This is the book! Codex Umbrarum. That's Latin for "Book of Shadows." She says, she opens the case and picks it up, flipping through it, which the pages are blank.

"They're Blank, the pages."

"Hm.. sounds like my kind of book." (Y/n) said.

"It's a fake. I don't know who Etsy is, but I doubt she was an outcast settler." Wednesday said, (Y/n) folds his arms.

"Cheap Props then, where the real one?" He asks, before the door bursts open.

"Just what the fudge are you two doing in here?" She said, glaring at the two.

"Mistress Arlene. How now?" Wednesday said.

"How now, indeed. I proclaimed the meeting house is under repair. I know thoust heard me."

"mistress, We're simply dying to learn more about Crackstone." (Y/n) says trying to Wesel his way out of it,

"Yes, and this display case was already open."

"That book's a replica."

"You don't say." Wednesday said sarcastically.

"The original was stolen last month during the two o'clock witch trial."

"It was probably the only authentic thing you have in here, yet you still charge $29.95 a ticket?"

"Hold thy tongue. I'm reassigning you both. To fudge-churning duty." She said to them, (Y/n) shrugs.

"Fine."

"The original meeting house, the one in that painting, where is it?" Wednesday asks, and the Mistress finally drops her Gimmick.

"How the hell should I know? I only moved here from Scottsdale in April." She says, and sends them off to churning, which they easily escape from as well, changing attire, the two head off to the cafe.

"So, were leaving again?"

"I deserted it while my sanity was still intact." Wednesday said, "Okay, then what are we here for?" He asks.

"I'm actually here for Tyler."

"Tyler? You mean the Normie working there, why talk to him?" He asks, and Wednesday cuts him down.

"Who I speak to is my business." she says; they stop at the door and (Y/n) just scoffs, "Fine, do what you need to do then, I'll be waiting." He says, "Outside." He sits at a bench, not wanting to go in. Wednesday enters to find Tyler and Xavier.

"Want the usual?" Tyler asks approaching.

"And some help. You know the original pilgrim meeting house, the one from the 1600s? You know if it's still around?" Wednesday pulls out a map of Jericho and places it upon a table.

"What's left is out in Cobham Woods, but it's pretty much a ruin."

"Show me." She said, and he put his finger on the map.

"Uh... There, but, look, it's kind of sketchy. Squatters and meth heads use that place as a crash pad. My dad has it cleared out every couple weeks. What's this about?"

"Nothing."

"You're becoming obsessed with this monster in the woods thing."

"Would you rather I develop an obsession with horses and boy bands? Thank you for the help."

"Hey, listen, the ruins are kind of tricky to find. I could take you this afternoon. My shift ends at 2:00." Tyler ask, Wednesday does consider it, "Principal Weems would hang, draw and quarter me if I miss the big statue dedication. And as enticing as that sounds, I'd prefer to keep a low profile. Besides, I know my way around the great outdoors."

"Don't tell me you were a Girl Scout."

"I could eat Girl Scouts for breakfast. I have an uncle who went to prison for that." She says before leaving, she exits the Cafe where (Y/n) continues to sit, listening to the wind rolls along the sky. He feels someone stand in front of him, but he ignores her.

"Ready?"

"..." he began to ignore Thrace raven haired girl.

"You haven't gone deaf as well? You'd be useless at that point."

"No, I have not." He replies, Wednesday frowns slightly.

"You’d do your best to Cheer up, your smile is your only appeasing feature." She says, he scoffs at it but laughs.

"God aren't you just the charmer." He says before standing up.

"Okay, where to Short stuff." He asks, and (Y/n) and Wednesday leave, trudging through the forest, their journey comes to An end, finally entering a rundown burned down, building. Thing exits Wednesday backpack to assist searching.

"So, how do you know that you're going to destroy Nevermore exactly?" (Y/n) asks.

"A vision I had, from what I understand my, mother had them as well." Wednesday explains, but the two find nothing.

"Hm, empty..." he says.

"I was expecting more too."

Who "you talking to, little girl?" A man says. The two turn around to an obviously homeless man, long beard and disheveled look.

"Use "little" and "girl" to address me again and I can't guarantee your safety."

"This is my place. Get out!" The man yells, Wednesday turns left to (Y/n), "(Y/n), a hand here?" She says he sighs and walks over and picks up a leaf, he crushes the leaves into a dust.

"Go dtuga Do Bhrionglóidí Oíche Uafásach Ifrinn ar ceal." He says calmly and blows them in the man's face, he tries to swat it away, before all he sees is Fire, his arms; legs, hair all ablaze, he screams and runs out of the place. But to Wednesday, (Y/n) simply blew clumps of crushed leaves into his face and he ran away.

"What did you just do?" She asks.

"I put a hex on him, making him believe he's on fire. Good thing about being a Fomorian is you learn how to curse people at a young age."

"Curses? Hexes? You must Teach me that."

"I'm not teaching you how to curse people, if I did you'd just curse anyone that's a minor inconvenience to you to death." He says, "Anyway. Can't you just touch something and a vision occurs?"

"No, I can't just touch something. My visions seem to happen spontaneously." Wednesday says.

"Okay... why not ask your Mom? If she had visions before." (Y/n) says, and Thing agrees:

"I would rather dye my hair pink than ask my mother for advice."

"Sounds like you just don't want to try." He says, which raises the ire of Miss Addams.

"Oh, you want me to prove it to you?" She says and begins to touch things.

"No. Nothing. Ah, I bet this will give us some real insight." She holds up a Taco Bell bag and shakes it at (Y/n) who folds his arms.

"Well jokes on you, i can't read that anyway." He says smugly, Wednesdays scoffs at him and walks back to the gate.

"My visions are about as predictable as shark attacks." She says and touches the door; her body looks like it was struck by lightning, she stiffens like a corpse in Rigor Mortis. (Y/n) quickly rushes to her before she falls on the ground; and he holds her, like the Corpse of a Bride.

"Wednesday? Wednesday can you hear me? Thing! What's happening?!" He yells; Thing makes motions but (Y/n) shakes his head.

"I know I know!" He yells; and a storm begins to brew.

"We gotta get out of here, I hope you're okay Wednesday." He says as he walks with her in his arms, her vision was much more vivid; this time she was in a completely different place, watching a mob of pilgrims surround a woman.

"Burn her! Burn her!"

"Devil spawn! Devil spawn!"

"Beast! Witch! Repent! Begone! Witch!"

"Stand aside!" A voice bellows through the crowd, adorned with fire and pitchforks, they split like the Red Sea to the founding father, Joseph Crackstone.

"Goody Addams! You have been judged before God and found guilty. You are a witch, a sorceress, Lucifer's mistress herself. For your sins, you will burn this night, and suffer the flames of eternal hellfire." He says, and they cheer, Goody looks at him. As her resemblance to Wednesday was uncanny; besides the blonde hair, she was picture perfect.

"I am innocent. It is you, Joseph Crackstone, that should be tried. We were here before you, living in harmony with nature and the native folk. But you have stolen our land. You have slaughtered the innocent. You have robbed us of our peaceful spirit. You are the true monster. All of you!" she yells, and he laughs at her falsehoods.

"You are abominations in the Devil's grip! I will not stop till I have expunged this New World of every outcast. Godless creatures! Set it ablaze!" He yells, they drag Goody to a building and toss her inside and locks her within. Wednesday follows and sees Goody look around, and she sees someone, a man who looks eerily similar to (Y/n) she rushes to his side.

"Cianán! Cianán!" She says, his weary head looks up, but it was obvious from the dark rings around his eyes, something happened. She grasps his wrists.

"There's no time, my Love. Leave me. Save yourself. He's chained us all to the floor." He says, Goody sees the bindings upon his wrist. "Crackstone, he laid black tar upon my eyes, I cannot see any more." His heartbroken Irish accent whispered sadness into her ears.

"I shan't leave without you." Goody grasps him, holding him so desperately. Her hands raise and gently grasp the sides of his chin. Tears flow solemnly down her cheeks.

"I shall only be a burden, Please. My Sweet Goody, Run. Run as fast as you can. You are our only hope." He said, his hands rose and gently took her wrists, She leaned into his face and laid her lips upon his, a long kiss of farewells, he whispers gently into her ears.

"I mBás, beidh grá agam duit i gcónaí" 

And Goody leaves, escaping as flames dance along the building. Even now she's longing for the embrace of her love, Wednesday watches their kiss and departure, but smoke begins to fill her lungs, and she finds herself surrounded in the dark, mist swoons the ground and Goody runs up to her:

"He won't stop until he's killed us all! He's here." She runs, and Wednesday turns around to Crackstone staring her down.

"There will be no escape for you!" He yells and trips her up, she falls back and awakens from her vision, she lies on the ground, wet. She sits up to see herself not within the broken down building, but a small bear cave and a lit fire next to her body to attempt to warm her up, it was (Y/n) who was also wet.

"Back?" He asks, Wednesday stood up and looked around.

"Rainfall, had to drag my Corpse Bride to safely... that's you." He said, "Thing helped." He adds in, thing is sitting next to (Y/n) on the back of his palm. He can feel the slight shiver on her body and he tosses another piece of wood into the flames.

"You're shivering, Cmon sit." He says and Wednesday opens her mouth to speak.

"Look, before you say anything, just shut up and let me help you. It's not wrong to ask people for help, and if you think I'm somehow a threat then you're probably as blind as I am." He says, Wednesday stares at him, but then slowly obliges and sits next to him, warming herself in the flames.

"So, saw anything in your Vision?" He asks.

"The girl from my visions. Her name is Goody Addams, and I believe she's my ancestor from 400 years ago." she explains, the rain pours, but Wednesdays focus was on the shadow that rushes past the entrance. Wednesday gives chase and (Y/n) stands up.

"W-Wednesday? Wednesday!" He yells, he runs after her, barely able to keep up. He finally reaches her as she's kneeling down.

"What are you looking at?" He says. And She stands up and turns to him.

"The monster is human. Its tracks turned from monster prints to human ones." She explains, (Y/n) kneels down and feels only water.

"Hm.. that's just water to me. I can't smell anything the waters washed the scent away... your visions, When did they start?"

"About a year ago. When they happen, it feels like I'm touching live wire. I usually enjoy that sensation."

"Yeah, but you can't control it and that freaks you out, doesn't it?" He says, "What could you possibly know about me?" Wednesday said.

"You like to be in control of everything, your life, your feelings, so when something comes in that changes it, you push it away, out of the fear of something you can't control. You're a force of nature... it's terrifying and, at the same time, I can't keep my.. heh, eyes off of it." He says, tuning his attention to Wednesday, there was silence between them, a slight bloom of emotion came from Wednesday, but she quickly buried those feelings.

"Anyway, your visions seem, erratic, I don't think we can trust them."

"I saw Joseph Crackstone in front of me as clearly as I'm seeing you now. He gathered all the outcasts in the meeting house and burned them alive."

"It was 400 years ago, what does that have to do with you?"

"Rowan's drawing. Crackstone was standing in the quad."

" it sounds like You're creating a story in your head and using visions to back it up. They're telling you what you want to see.

"Are you mansplaining my power?"

"Is me saving you from a creepy old man "Man-Saving" or is that just me doing my job? All I'm saying is that you can't rely on things you can't always be sure of." He said.

"I believe Rowan was right. Something bad is going to happen, and I need to stop it. Starting with that monster. Whoever it is."

Wednesday and (Y/n) finally reach Nevermore and Wednesday poses a question.

"You Speak Gaelic." She says.

"Gaelic Irish, Yes."

"When I was having my vision, someone said something I want you to Translate: "I mBás, beidh grá agam duit i gcónaí" Wednesday Said, relaying the words Goodys lover one said to her, (Y/n) takes these words and seemingly processes them in his head, his hard ass demeanor slowly fades.

"If my translation is correct, and it usually is... the person said. "In Death, I will love you always." He says, meaning the final words Cianán said to his lover Goody, is that even in his death he will love her in the after life. Wednesday begins to consider things much, drastically. Could history be repeating itself? And could the Man talking to her end up dying for her? For his Love? Will She end up falling for him and watching him suffer a miserable death all the same?

"Hello? Earth to Wednesday?" He asks, she finally looks at him and he asks again.

"Who said it? The message." He asks, and Wednesday kept her deadpan expression.

"I don't know, I couldn't make out their face." She replies, (Y/n) shrugs and decides to trust he, as scary as that was, the end of the is slowly rolling in and students arrive at the heart of Jericho for the celebration, stufende gather and specifically for the music presentation. (Y/n) and Wednesday walk together towards the gather.

"I thought nothing scared me, but that was before I stared into the eyes of Joseph Crackstone. I don't believe in heaven or hell. But I do believe in revenge. I usually serve it warm with a side of pain, but I've never faced an adversary cast in bronze"

(Y/n) sits down, and Enid scoots over to be next to him, he smiles and they watch and or listen to the Mayor as he stands before a podium, a statue and outdoor fountain combination, made of striking bronze.

"Thank you. It is my honor to celebrate our town's history and Jericho's noble forefather, Joseph Crackstone. Now, he believed that with a happy heart and an open ear, there was nothing our town couldn't achieve. So together as one, our community and our friends at Nevermore Academy, we've built a monument to celebrate his memory. Now, may the spirit of Joseph Crackstone be memorialized for eternity." The Mayor Says, and the class begins to do a rendition of "Don't Stop" by Fleetwood Mac, A Water Like liquid begins move within it, splitting out like said fountain. (Y/n)'s nose crinkles up.

"Enid..do you smell that?"

"No, is it my breath?" She asks panicked, "I was really close to Ajax and I hope it didn't—"

"No, you're fine, it's odd it smells like—"

Before his nose could discover the origin of the scent, a flash of burning heat washed over him like a fuming blanket. He couldn't make it out perfectly but he could easily tell that the statue was burning. Students ran, teachers and adults struggled to understand what was going on. What cut though most of the screaming was music, (Y/n) tried to understand where it was coming from, and he eventually did as the harrowing strings of Vivaldi's "Winter" bellows from the side, he can only imagine that's it's coming from one person. Wednesday Addams, and it all slowly began to piece together who was behind this, while it couldn't be proven. (Y/n) wasn't the only person to figure this all out. Weems, who dragged Wednesday into her office was more than upset, she was enthralled with rage.

"That was a disaster. The mayor is furious! I've lost count of the angry phone calls, emails, and people in the town, alumni and parents. They want answers and so do I."

"I would lead the inquisition, but I left my thumbscrews and rack at home."

"Miss Addams... you're already on thin ice. Wafer-thin ice. I swear on my late scorpion's soul, my hands are clean." she said, which is only partly true. As the only "Hand" involved was Thing.

"I may not have hard evidence, but I see you. You're a trouble magnet." Weems glares at the child, who stands up, literally for herself.

LIf trouble means standing up to lies, decades of discrimination, centuries of treating outcasts like second-class citizens or worse..."

"What are you talking about?"

"Jericho. Why does this town even have an Outreach Day? Don't you know its real history with outcasts? The actual story of Joseph Crackstone?" Wednesdays asks, and Weems frowns, admittedly nodding.

"I do. To an extent."

"Then why be complicit in its cover up? Those who forget history are doomed to repeat it.

"That's where you and I differ. Where you see doom, I see opportunity. Maybe this is a chance to rewrite the wrongs, to start a new chapter in the normie-outcast relations."

"Nothing has changed since Crackstone. They still hate us. Only now they sugarcoat it with platitudes and smiles. If you're unwilling to fight for truth—"

"You don't think I want the truth? Of course I do. But the world isn't always black and white. There are shades of gray. Maybe for you.

"But it's either they write our story or we do. You can't have it both ways."

"...You're exhausting." Weems sighs, but Wednesday hasn't moved an inch.

"I know."

"..Goodnight, Miss Addams. But you should know... I don't tire easily." Weems says, before Wednesday is excused back to her room. Wednesday types on her vintage Typewriter, as on the other side of the room Enid was trying on clothes, as (Y/n) was sitting on her bed, helping her choose. Enid shows different styles one of a pot heirs of colors.

"Too much?" She asks.

"So glad I have my date with Ajax tonight. Get my mind off that trainwreck of an afternoon. I literally think I have PTSD. I didn't even get to do my dance routine."

"Wow, What a tragedy." (Y/n) says.

"What kind of twisted psycho would want to sabotage such a life-affirming event?" Enid asks, (Y/n) slyly smirks and shrugs.

"You're going to be late." (y/n) says as she gets dressed, Enid gives him a reassuring hug.

"Wish me luck."

"If he breaks your heart I'll curse him and his family for all eternity." He says and Enid leaves, (Y/n) and Wednesday are alone together. He lets out a sigh and turns to face her.

"So, gonna Just act like you didn't Blow the statue up?" He says as he approaches her, she continues to type. "Weems was pretty ticked off, angriest I've seen her in a while. So I have to ask, why?" He says. Wednesday continues to type, not paying attention to him.

"To Send a message, I don't believe in mandatory volunteer work, sugar-coated history, or happy endings, but most of all... I don't believe in coincidences. To paraphrase Agatha Christie, one coincidence is just a coincidence, two are a clue....and three are proof. Rowan's drawing of me and Crackstone happens sometime in the future. Goody Addams' warnings about Crackstone were in the past. And the monster is here in the present. Three coincidences that I know are connected. That monster could be anyone. The sheriff thinks they only exist behind the walls of this school. The truth is, there are monsters everywhere. And sometimes the monsters we least suspect are the most dangerous. They don't need teeth and claws to terrify. They hide in the shadows until no one is looking. And then they strike. But I'm looking now. And I won't stop until I find the truth." She says euch such intensity, she truly believes in herself and her words, and (Y/n) feels, confidence in that.

“I mean I get that you want to figure this all out, but you have to be more careful. And try and play nice with others.” He said.

"And if I don't?" Wednesday said, still working and tapping.

"Then I'll be forced to... Hmm. punish you." He said, and he could hear Wednesday scoff dryly.

"What could a blind warlock possible do to—" she says, before Wednesdays face freezes up like ice, her entire body stuff, and she just stares forward. She felt the warm arms and body of (Y/n) as he snuck up behind her for a soft hug. Wednesday had never been hugged, her intimidation was more than enough to keep most people away, but then again, (Y/n) really isn't "Most People".

“See? I know your weakness, Human interaction.” he laughed for a moment, before he can even say her name; Wednesday had him pinned down on the ground, full Mount with a pair of sharp pointed scissors aimed at him, she gripped them hard, and with her other hand she tightly grasped his shirt. Despite her petite form and body she was surprisingly well built and versatile.

"Tell me why, I shouldn't kill you.. Right now." Wednesday voice had no emotion, cold and for most to hear would be absolutely terrifying. But (Y/n) just laughed a bit, his focus was on her, even if he couldn't see.

"I told you I could get you, you know when we got captured by that Society, I told them that you.. Wednesday are a force of nature, and.. it's amazing. You're amazing.." He says, which somehow cools her boiling rage and for the first time in her life Wednesday Addams, is embarrassed; and the tiniest hint of red was on her pale skin, she stands up, getting off of him and tosses her scissors down near his neck.

"Leave, Now." She says, she turns around and he just stands up, Chuckling.

"Okay, okay, sorry for upsetting you... I'll see you tomorrow?" He asks. Hopeful.

"....I'll consider it." She replies and he smiles a bit wider.

"Well..be seeing you, Miss Addams." He said as he leaves the room, letting Wednesday have a shaky sigh. She looks at her hands, and clenches them, wondering one thing.

"What is this.. odd feeling in her heart?"

[pigeonwhumps]

Introduction and masterlist

Hi! I'm Ruth, they/them pronouns, 25, and I enjoy most types of whump! I do art, graphic design and writing.

I try my best to tag, but if I miss a content warning you'd like added, please just shoot me an ask! I won't tag lady whump as a content warning, but anything else I will if you ask.

Favourite tropes:

RECOVERY WHUMP!!!

Found family

Gagging

Muzzles

Pet whump

Whumper pressing down on whumpee's back to keep them from getting up

Branding

Whipping

Caretaker turned whumpee/whumpee turned caretaker

Hero/villain whump

Tall whumpee/small caretaker (or vice versa)

Tall whumpee/small whumper

G/t whump

Whumpee thinks caretaker is their new whumper

Incompetent/clueless caretaker (they're trying their best but they have no idea they're doing)

Non-human whumpee

Immortal whumpee

Human weapon

Picky:

Major character death

Mouth whump

Pregnancy whump

Squicks:

Graphic tooth whump

Everything taglist: @painful-pooch @i-eat-worlds @a-funeral-romance @rainydaywhump

Other taglists part 1 / part 2

Masterlist

↓ under cut ↓

BBU masterlist

General contents: pet whump, dehumanisation, amnesia, PTSD

Sam and Lucan 'verse

In a world where non-humans are enslaved, our characters are just trying to live out their lives in peace. And failing, mostly.

General contents: non-human characters, institutionalised slavery, fantasy racism, dehumanisation, PTSD

A Death in the Family

When his estranged father dies, Tristam, against his better judgement, attends the will reading, and ends up leaving with long-term bloodbag Sunday Afolayan and Eldrida, his father's former employee (and a terribly mistreated one at that, it turns out).

Even with Aileen and Evelyn's expert advice and friendship, it's tricky to bring Sunday back from the depths of his enthrallment, and Eldrida's struggling too. Six years under the cruel fist of Barnabas Sharpe was hard to survive.

It's a difficult recovery for both of them. But surely, things can't get worse now.

Contains: vampire whumper, non-human whumpee (vampire), lady whump, conditioned whumpee, disabled characters (Tristam has ADHD, Eldrida has anophthalmia, and Sunday has joint problems, a badly-healed arm, and an absence epilepsy-like condition), recovery whump, multiple whumpees

Botanist Whumpee

When the rich and powerful Sebastian Beaumont offers Alyssa a place to stay, she doesn’t expect to become his captive for three years. And when Silver rescues her at a party… well, the only thing she’s absolutely sure is better is that they don’t have a basement. They don’t have much of anything, actually. And she doesn’t know whether she can trust them or not, but she stays anyway. With no-one left to care about her, and Beaumont using all his money and connections to search for the pair of them, where else is she supposed to go?

Contains: recovery whump, captivity, lady whump, somewhat defiant whumpee, found family, intimate whumper

Cian and Row

In a world where superpowers are real, heroes and villains exist, and there's a large black market in powered people, Rowan's been enslaved for as long as they can remember. They're befriended when they're three by Cian Sinclair, a local empathic five year old, and at the age of eleven is rescued and adopted by the Sinclairs. Years later they become a supervillain, disappear for five years and reappear to reunite with their family, and attract another enemy, one far more powerful than their previous captors and obsessed with their healing powers.

Contains: slavery, PTSD, minor whump, past minor whump, immortal whumpee, discrimination, villain whump

Immortal Cannon Fodder

Phoenix, an immortal hero, joins a team that hurts them and uses them as cannon fodder. But their teammates are only doing what's necessary to help them all survive. Phoenix's regular sacrifices are necessary. And it's not like they've got anywhere else to go anyway.

It takes the arrival of Kai, a wolf-shifter and telekinetic, to help them see what's going on. But a friendship and a promised eventual transfer can't fix everything.

Contains: hero whump, abuse, past abuse, immortal whumpee

MD-264N

When MD-264N, the government's best weapon, runs to avoid being decommissioned and collapses on the doorstep of a small ragtag team of rebels, it's a surprise to everyone. But despite resistance, the weapon, now known as Morgan, starts to find their place, and the rebels soon find that they'll do anything to keep them free.

Out of the Frying Pan

Contains: living weapon, found family, dehumanisation/self dehumanisation, team dynamics, reluctant caretaker (not the main caretaker), recovery whump, caretaker whump, disabled caretaker (forearm amputee)

Operation Badger

In the year 2037, Earth is invaded by the Stex. 14 years later, superpowers start appearing in teenagers, and are apparently humanity's best defence against the aliens. What is Earth Security to do but train these people up as weapons?

Contains: sci-fi, living weapons, team whump, multiple whumpees, minor whump, aliens, disabled character

Five years ago Elis, former bodyguard and weapon of Lord Wulfric, was rescued from a fiery death by Col and Sæwin. He now lives in relative peace with them in Sorestan, a peace that's abruptly disrupted after an unwelcome visitor brings his past colliding with the present.

Contains: medieval whump, fantasy elements, living weapon

Out of the Water

Túathal, a merman, is captured and kept prisoner by pirates for his valuable scales. While Robyn, the youngest of the crew and not very popular, takes care of him, the others only bother with his scales (and anything that makes their extraction easier). Especially James. And once the rest of the pirates discover that Robyn and Túathal have become fond of each other, things only get worse.

Contains: merwhump, pirate whump, mutual caretaking, language barrier, outcast whumpee, defiant whumpee

Survival Skills

Whumpee is captured by a Whumper who wants to teach them survival skills. Painfully.

Contains: survival skills whump, sadistic whumper

The Greatest Show on Earth

Damon and Pythias are an unwilling two-person sideshow act in The Greatest Show on Earth, Pythias forced to kill Damon multiple times a day for the entertainment of paying circus patrons. Damon has been in captivity since birth, Pythias not quite so long (although certainly long enough), and they're both ready to get out.

But the outside world is even trickier to navigate than they imagined.

Contains: non-human whumpees, multiple whumpees, immortal whumpee, lady whump, circus whump, public whump, captivity, recovery whump, temporary character death (both implied and shown at times), guilty whumpee, whumpee as caretaker

Other writing:

Non-series whump masterlist

Miscellaneous writing, art and graphics

Fanfic/fanart (AO3)

BBC Merlin, Good Omens, Doctor Who, The Sandman, The Murderbot Diaries

Other stuff:

Whumpmas in July 2022 masterlist

Prompts

Ask games

Bad Things Happen Bingo

[the-fangirl-from-hell]

The Real Reason Xavier Can’t Sleep

here is part 1

pairing: Xavier Thorpe x reader, really angsty Tyler Galpin x reader if you like that

summary: in which Xavier has visions about you and can’t get you out of his head, this sparks arguments with your boyfriend.

warning: Tyler and reader are in a toxic relationship, nsfw content, swearing- lots of it, insomnia

tags: more pining, all the tags from part 1, slight smut

word count: 4.5K

au where Rowan never died and is still with the Nightshades cause the character has potential and the writers wasted it

you can asks in the notes if you wanna be tagged in part 3, it’s coming soon

Xavier could feel (Y/N)’s hands running through his hair, scratching at his scalp as a cold shiver run through his body. He could feel her hot skin pressed flush against his.

As she was lying on her back in the bed, eyes half closed and arms crossed around her chest to hide it Xavier wanted to tell her how beautiful she was. How there was no reason to be embarrassed because he loved every part of her body. How much he wanted to worship every inch of her for the rest of the night. But he stayed silent. Like something heavy in his chest was preventing him from talking.

His hands instinctively found hers, gently pinning them against the bed sheets, exposing her chest to him. He wasn’t really in control of himself, feeling almost like a remote control puppet.

Xavier held his breath as he pushed himself inside of her, whimpering at the familiar sensation of her hot walls clenching around him. Like they’re done this a thousand times.

“Tyler, take it slow for me baby,” the girl winced.

Not again.

The clock read 01:30. Xavier woke up in his room, shirtless and covered in a thin sheen of sweat.

“Fucking hell,” he murmured under his breath, careful not to wake up his roommate.

Between the vision he had of a mysterious creature and this weird psychic link he had with Tyler Galpin of all people, he couldn’t remember the last full night of sleep he had in the past few months.

He knew they weren’t dreams. He was sure because of that one time he was out with his friends in the town, they were mostly window shopping then suddenly he was in the Weathervane, making out with (Y/N) at the back of the shop. Shaky hands grabbing at each other’s clothes, desperately trying to peel them off, needy mouths crashing against each other. Then the girl’s mouth started going lower and lower along his jaw to his neck. She gave him a gentle bite, probing him then she sunk her teeth in that one spot that made his knees weak. He started grinding against her desperate for some form of release, mind foggy with lust. Then he was back on the street with his friends surrounding him and looking extremely worried.

Xavier has had visions like this one in the past usually at night, waking him up from his slumber. He tried to write them off as some sort of weird wet dream of this girl he had a crush on.

But this time it was different. He was awake, it was the middle of the day. And as they were walking through the center of the town, he saw the girl who has been plaguing his mind leaving the café looking disheveled and flushed. And then he saw her boyfriend lean in to give her a kiss goodbye, the hickey she just left on him still visible. Xavier ran a hand over the base of his neck where he could still feel the ghost of her teeth like it happened to him. But it was Tyler. He was Tyler for a few moments; he saw the world through his eyes.

There was no going back to sleep no matter how hard Xavier tried tossing and turning. The bed was too hard, the sheets were too scratchy, and the cover was too warm.

He sneaked outside through a window and went to the shed he’s been working on restoring. Weems said if he did a good job she’d let him use it as an art studio. Since he’s having trouble sleeping he’s been going there more and more often. He even got a small mattress in the corner, covered in a sage green sheet. He liked that color a lot.

Xavier’s biggest problem was that his connection to Tyler seemed to activate whenever he was having strong emotions like when he was having sex with his girlfriend in the middle of the night. But not only that. He also saw them going on dates and having late-night chats about their lives and dreams. Xavier hated himself but he ended up falling in love with this woman he barely knew.

Without really having a plan in mind he grabbed a clean canvas and started painting her. The curvature of her neck, the valley of her breasts, the plumpness of her lips.

“I’m just doing this to get it out of my system,” he excused himself to no one in particular.

He felt dirty drawing the naked figure of someone who never undressed in front of him, who never gave him permission to, who probably barely remembers him.

Ever since that day when she drove him back to school and he snapped at her, they haven’t spoken much. They acknowledge each other on the street when they pass by one another, they exchange polite smiles and waves from a distance, sometimes a courteous ‘hi’ and ‘how are you’ followed by ‘nothing much, you?’ and a shrug. The conversations never last as much as Xavier wishes they did. He even tried apologizing for the way he acted the last time they talked but she just brushed it off as if it was nothing.

Xavier lost count of the hours he spent perfecting the painting he made, but it was light outside by the time Bianca opened the door and let herself in.

“We’ve been looking everywhere for you. Are we still going to the Fair?”

 “Morning, sleeping beauty!” Bianca cheered sarcastically. “You’ve been drooling on my shoulder.”

Xavier assessed the situation. He was in the car with the Nightshades. Rowan was driving. Bianca was right next to him in the backseat, mushed between him and Ajax.

“Sorry, I haven’t been sleeping well recently,” he excused himself and then lowered his voice so that only Bianca could hear it. “You know, you could help me with that.”

“For the last fucking time, Xavier, I’m not using my siren song on you. Ask again and I’ll never speak to you.”

“Please, I’m going insane, you have to help me!”

“You guys don’t have to whisper,” Rowan chimed from behind the wheel. “We know about Xavier’s obsession with the normie girl.”

“Not as obsessed as you are with Wednesday!”

The car shook violently as Rowan parked it with a little too much force next to the forest that lead to Nevermore. A howl was heard in the distance as the group walked out of the car still arguing. They had to speak louder to cover the music and everyone else at the Fair talking.

“My mom had a vision about her, you know that. I have to figure out what it meant.”

“Well, I have visions, too. And I need them to stop.”

He even told his therapist about this girl (sparing her some of the raunchier details) and started taking medication that’s supposed to suppress his visions. They haven’t been very effective. At this point he was so desperate he was willing to ask his dad for help.

“Was it her you were painting the other morning?” Bianca asked after the rest of the group was far enough for them not to hear.

Xavier was really hoping Bianca didn’t see his drawing when she came by his shed. It was too embarrassing to explain himself and anything he’d say tasted like a lie on his lips.

It’s just a painting, it doesn’t mean anything.

I draw naked people all the time.

I just wanted to get it out of my system.

Bullshit.

“You really need to talk this out with her. Maybe she knows something about why you’re having these visions.”

“I wouldn’t even know where to begin-“

“You’ll think of something.”

Bianca gave a wide smile and a dramatic wave to someone to their right and Xavier turned in that direction. (Y/N) was leaning on her arm next to an archery booth looking around as if she was waiting for someone. When her eyes landed on the two of them she gave them a salute.

“It’s not polite to let her wait for you. You’ve got this.”

Bianca gave her friend a little shove in the right direction and he stumbled. The girl of his dreams (visions?) wasn’t far away and he was headed right in her direction whether he wanted to or not. Xavier tried to fight the stupid smile that was spreading across his face as he was approaching her. He lost.

“Haven’t seen you in a long time,” the girl observed.

“Yeah, I haven’t gone out in the town lately.”

The girl furrowed her brows with concern as she leaned in, giving Xavier a closer inspection. It made him inhale a sharp breath. She smelled like cotton candy and the earth after it rained. He closed his eyes for just a second, enjoying her smell and her presence. When he opened them again, the girl was still studying him so carefully, the same way you may study a puzzle you're trying to solve.

“Did you sleep well last night?”

Did she know? Could she tell that she was the reason he hasn’t slept a wink last night? Or barely at all for the past month? Could she read his mind?

He was becoming paranoid.

“I look that bad, huh?”

A shy smile tugged at the corner of her lips. “Not at all. Just tired. I could make you a tea for insomnia, it does wonders.”

There she goes again. No one in Xavier’s life treats him like this. Like he deserves to be fawned over, protected, taken care of. He was always the strong one in his family, the emotional pillar for his parents, the one his mom would go to for advice or when she needed a shoulder to cry on. All of his girlfriends and even his friends say he’s a good listener, that it’s easy to open up to him but very rarely do they ask about his feelings. And no one tries to make it better the way (Y/N) does.

It’s like she’s the only one who sees how broken he is and knows how to fix him.

“I’ve been taking some meds, they haven’t kicked in yet. But thanks anyway, it’s nice that you offered.”

“It can’t hurt to try. Come by the Weathervane on Monday? I work there now. I’ll make you a tea free of charge,” she points her last words on his shoulder.

Xavier grabs at his shoulder and makes a grimace as if it hurt, but really it didn’t. He just likes the way the girl looks at him when she worries about him.

“Wouldn’t that get you in trouble?”

“I like trouble,” she winks. “Usually my dashing smile and smooth talking get me out of pretty much anything. I got the boss wrapped around my finger.”

He could see that. She was hard to stay mad at. Hard to say no to. If there was someone who could get away with murder simply by being charming it would be her.

“I didn’t mean with your boss.”

Xavier regretted his words almost instantly. The change on the girl's face was almost imperceptible. He might have missed it if he wasn’t paying close attention to her. The amused spark in her eyes, the one he was so enamored with, died. It made him shiver.

He shouldn't have brought it up.

“Tyler doesn’t have to know. Plus, he has nothing to hold against you. He’s the one in the wrong. By the way, I’m still sorry for what happened that day. I can’t help but feel guilty, like if I hadn’t talked to you none of it would’ve happened.”

Xavier couldn’t imagine a world where he didn’t know (Y/N). He didn’t even want to think of a different universe where he was so engrossed in his work he didn’t notice the girl with stars in her eyes preparing her concert, didn’t hear her playing. A world where they both pass right by each other like ships in the night, neither ever truly seeing the other. What a nightmare.

Sure, slowly falling in love with her through another man’s eyes hurt. But never knowing her would be worse.

But he couldn’t say that, could he?

“You couldn’t have known. And if anything, I should be apologizing, I came to you first... to move the piano.”

And he’d do it again, a thousand times.

“Right,” the girl smiled wistfully as if reliving a happy memory. “Thanks again for that.”

“By the way, are you still playing on this year’s Outreach day?”

She shook her head in disappointment.

“No, this Nevermore girl– Wednesday, she’s playing a cello solo this year. She’s new and struggling to fit in, at least it’s what the mayor told me.”

“It’s a shame. I was looking forward to listening to you again. You really have a gift.”

The girl looked down bashfully and Xavier felt a rush of pride. It was usually her who made him blush. He almost wanted to gently grab her chin and make her look up at him. He’s gotten even taller than he was when they met. He wondered if she noticed that.

He leaned back into the archery booth that was behind him, trying to look casual. He realized he’s been beating around the bush and completely forgot why he was there talking to her in the first place. How was he going to break this to her lightly?

“You know how I said I was a seer, right?”

The girl nodded diligently.

“Yes, like your father.”

Xavier tried not to make a face at the mention of his father. They weren’t exactly on the best of terms. He gulped, doing his best to pick the next words that came out of his mouth.

“Tyler,” the girl chimed suddenly.

Xavier’s blood ran cold at the sight of Tyler coming towards them holding a water bottle that he handed to his girlfriend. He then gave her a quick peck on the cheek.

“Do you mind?” he asked Xavier tauntingly. “We’re on a date.” He then turned around to his girlfriend. “Do you want me to win something for you babe?”

Xavier crossed his arms trying to look unbothered although the sight in front of him hurt more than a hundred needles poking his heart at once. It was different seeing them together like this than when he had the visions. In those Tyler wasn’t really visible, since he was seeing everything through his eyes. In those visions, he could pretend he was the one (Y/N) was kissing.

Tyler went to pay the guy behind the counter at the archery booth some money and the guy handed him a plastic bow and arrow and explained to him how to win. Xavier couldn’t help but snicker watching Tyler fail miserably at the game. There was something vindictive about the sight.

“Shut up! What are you doing here anyway?” he asked annoyed. “Don’t you have some kinda restraining order against me?”

He shot his target and missed again. His hands were gripping the object so tightly his knuckles turned white.

I could easily win a toy for her, Xavier thought.

Actually, he just might.

“As long as you can be civil for one night, I’m not gonna go to the police.”

Xavier tried to remain calm and composed in order to not betray how much his heart was beating in his chest. He wasn’t even sure if the cause was the beautiful girl standing close to him or the stress of facing his attacker for the first time in almost a year. He wasn’t afraid of Tyler, per se, but he made him uneasy. Like the feeling you get when you watch a horror movie and foreboding music starts playing.

Without breaking eye contact with Tyler Xavier threw some money on the counter and reached his hand out towards him waiting to be handed the bow. Tyler pushed it in his hands a little more forceful than needed.

“I’m not gonna hide from you forever, dude. Until I finish school, we have to share this town. Get used to it.”

Xavier moved his attention to the target and shot his first arrow. He needed to hit the bull three times to get the big frog plushy the girl seemed to be eyeing that night. He could do it.

“It’s not the town I have a problem sharing,” Tyler muttered.

Xavier told himself to relax before releasing the arrow and hitting his target perfectly. Bull’s eye. Two more.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You just love playing stupid, huh Thorpe? I’m not blind, I know what you’re after,” he leaned towards Xavier so close he could see his freckles. “At least you healed surprisingly well, I was sure my shoe was gonna leave a scar on your forehead. I was going to make you the next Harry Potter.”

“Maybe you’re not as strong as you think you are,” Xavier commented, his eyes still on the target.

“Cut it out, both of you!”

Xavier could hear the anger and fear in (Y/N)'s voice and he hated himself for being partially the cause of that. What made him feel even more guilty was how his body reacted to hearing her enraged and commanding voice. It reminded him of a dream - or a vision? he wasn't sure - he had not so long ago. In which she was yelling at him for something he'd done that upset her and somehow in the middle of the argument her hands took a hold of his hair and pulled his face close to hers. She started kissing him feverishly.

He visibly gulped as he tried to suppress the memory. He almost lost focus, but he still managed to hit the target. Not dead center, but close enough to still get the prize. One more.

It seemed Tyler noticed the effect his girlfriend had on the tall boy he hated so much. He tried to bite down a smirk.

“You’re right babe, I’m sorry,” he said turning towards his girlfriend, burying his head in the crook of her neck. “Did I tell you how sexy you look in that dress? Are you wearing it all for me?”

He didn’t need to say it as loud as he did, but Xavier knew it was intentional, to make him lose concentration. And it worked. For a fraction of a second, his eyes slid from his target to (Y/N) and the pretty black dress covering her body, then to Tyler’s hand gripping her hips so tight like he was afraid she was gonna fall. Or run away. Xavier took the last shot with shaky hands and failed.

“Too bad,” Tyler coed mockingly reaching out his hand. “You shot your shot and you missed. It’s mine now.”

Xavier had a feeling he wasn’t talking about the game.

The tension was so thick you could cut it with a knife. The two boys were staring at each other, neither wanting to back down. Xavier realized just how stupid he was for being there just to poke Tyler further. He didn’t know what he expected to happen. That the girl of his dreams was just going to fall in his arms, begging him to save her from evil Tyler? Yeah, sure.

Maybe he wanted revenge on Tyler for what he did to him. To show him up and humiliate him. Maybe he just wanted to spend a little more time with her. To see her up close a little more. Hear her voice a little more. Stare into her eyes. He didn’t realize how much he missed her presence till he got it back. That asshole was so lucky that he got to have her all to himself and he didn’t even appreciate it. He should be worshiping the ground she walks on. Like he would.

“Stop ogling her,” Tyler pushed him against the archery stand. “She wouldn’t fuck a freak like you.”

Xavier stood up straight, reminding Tyler that he was much taller than him. A scared look surfaced on his face for just a second before it was replaced with an angry scowl. It gave Xavier a rush of confidence.

“Careful now,” he egged him on. “You don’t have your buddies with you anymore to help.”

“That’s enough. I don’t want any of you hurt again."

(Y/N) put her hands on both of the guys’ chests and pushed them apart forcefully. The same warm almost electric feeling passed through Xavier’s body as it did every time she touched him.

“Don’t cream your pants, Thorpe. She barely grazed you.”

“What is your problem, teddy?” the girl questioned her boyfriend.

Xavier knew that nickname. Teddy. Teddy bear. It’s what she usually called him in the sweet moments when they got along. When they were cuddling on the couch, watching a movie, having morning coffee together. In his delusion, Xavier almost convinced himself that she was calling him that.

“No, don’t teddy bear me! He is the problem! Why do you insist on taking his side? Do you have a thing for outcasts all of a sudden? You think his dick glows in the dark or some shit?”

“You’re being paranoid, just because I don’t want you going to jail doesn’t mean I wanna fuck the guy!”

The guy. This girl was everything to Xavier and he was just some guy to her. Some guy ruining her relationship with her boyfriend of many years.

“I’m not going to jail. Ever since last year, you’ve been acting like I’m some kind of ticking bomb always on the verge of exploding. Even right now you look at me like I’m a monster. Hell, do you even love me anymore?”

Tyler started walking away from both of them. “I’m done. Your new boyfriend can drive you home tonight.”

With his hands in his pockets, Tyler marched toward his car while his girlfriend (ex?) watched him leave with tears in her eyes. She seemed frozen for a few moments but right before Xavier could tell her anything, or apologize, she took off into the forest without a single word.

Xavier looked for a second at his friends who were watching the whole thing unfold from a safe distance. He found Bianca’s eyes and she gave him a subtle nod.

He took off towards where the girl was headed. She couldn’t let her wander off into the forest alone. Especially not at night. There was a monster in those woods and if something were to happen to her Xavier would never forgive himself.

“(Y/N), wait,” he gasped for air. “You’re really fast.”

The girl didn’t really stop but slowed down the pace for him to catch up with her.

“Only when I’m sad,” she sobbed. “I like to walk in the woods to clear my head. I’ve been doing that a lot lately.”

“I’m sorry I’ve riled up your boyfriend. I should’ve known he’d react this way.”

“It’s not your fault, Xavier, he’s been like this for a while now. Getting angry, breaking up with me before inevitably coming back to beg for forgiveness promising he’ll never do it again. He tells me he can’t live without me only to repeat the cycle at the slightest inconvenience.”

A familiar feeling was forming in Xavier’s stomach. Helplessness. This is what he felt like every time he saw them fight through the psychic link, which was often. Tyler would get jealous over something and throw a fit. (Y/N) would bring up a complaint she had and all hell broke loose. Lately, they’ve been fighting a lot about the new girl at Nevermore, Wednesday. It seemed like Tyler was harboring a crush on her, but every time the girl brought it up Tyler would get angry and defensive.

There were so many times when Xavier wanted to crawl out of Tyler’s mind and comfort the girl in front of him. Now was his chance. This girl was crying in front of him and he wasn’t trapped behind Tyler’s eyes anymore.

His trembling hands found their way to the small of her back, arms wrapping around the girl’s shoulders protectively like he could shield her from her own feelings. Or the people who caused them. He wanted to tell her she was safe in his arms.

She responded to the hug by pulling him closer, flushed against her body, and letting out a sob. It seemed she was starving for comfort as if no one has given her that in a long time.

“You don’t deserve this,” the words left Xavier’s mouth on their own.

She was too kind to ever suffer like that for anyone. He remembered how she treated his wounds and made sure he got home safe without even knowing him. Someone like her deserved only happiness and love.

Tyler however, deserved to have his ass handed to him a couple times. Xavier would do it gladly but he wouldn’t be able to stand how (Y/N) would look at him after that.

“He made his choice,” he whispered in her ear. “You’re just trying to protect him but he won’t listen.”

He couldn’t remember a time when any of his girlfriends were that protective of him. One of them actually was encouraging him to get into fights. But she never took care of him afterward, especially not after he lost. The closest he ever came to someone like that was Bianca who clearly had a crush on him and was very watchful of him but he never felt the same way about her. She couldn’t hold a candle to the girl crying on Xavier’s shoulder right now.

“I know what you want to say. I should just end it cause this relationship is going nowhere but… It’s not that simple. I’ve known him all my life, I don’t even have an idea as to what a life without Tyler would look like. And I just can’t say no to him when he’s crying. You don’t know how heartbroken he looks when he comes back.”

She let out another heart-wrenching sob. Xavier’s arms instinctively tightened around her, as if they could forcefully glue back the pieces of her broken heart. If only he were strong enough to do that.

He felt the girl shivering in his arms. He let her go for a second to take off his jacket and place it across her shoulders. Her dress was pretty but it didn’t do much to keep her warm. And his uniform jacket looked good on her.

“Looks to me like he doesn’t have a problem making you cry. You deserve better.”

The boy’s thumb wiped away a tear from her cheek. Gingerly, as if he was afraid she’d dissipate like a mirage the second he would touch her. Because a girl like her couldn’t be real. And if she was he could never have her.

“Thank you,” her words came out merely a whisper.

Her gaze traveled north to meet his eyes and Xavier forgot how to breathe. He could feel his own pulse in his thumb which was still resting on the girl’s face. How did she manage to become more beautiful every time his eyes laid on her? He’s never wanted to kiss anyone more in his life. He knew it was wrong but doing the wrong thing has never felt so enticing.

He was holding on to his morals by a hair strand and he knew that if she made the first step; if she leaned in and closed her eyes he wouldn’t make the smallest effort to stop her. He wasn’t strong enough. If she wanted to kiss him he would let her. So they could be wrong together.

@helluvafire​ you said you wanted part two.

sorry it took so long for this to arrive. i’ve been writing on it for two weeks cause i didn’t like it, i had to rewrite a lot. then i realized it was closing in on 6k words and i still wasn’t done so i decided i’ll just chop this part in two. that’s why it ends kinda abruptly.

 so i’m already 1.5k words into part 3. hopefully it’s not gonna take me another two weeks to finish.

also this whole thing was written exclusively between 12pm and 4 am. i can’t seem to be able to write at normal hours.

[alexius-fr]

Martyrs Waste Chapter 1: Dust and Ash

Sanguine, Silas and Khadiyah travel to the Waste to find Nerissa

_______________________________

The air was thick here, much more so than they had been used to before. Dense fog hid the land below them in a mystery of red and orange hues with the occasional sickly green bioluminescence shining through dimly. But the smell was familiar to Sanguine, who had always belonged here, no matter how far he had tried to run from that truth.

“How much farther?”

“We’ll get there when we get there!”

Silas wailed a pitiful cry of woe is me. “But my wings hurt!”

“Oh shush, you’ll be right at home there.” Khadiyah laughed as she ridiculed her mate. Sanguine, who flew ahead of them, couldn’t help but laugh.

“True, it is called the Martyrs Waste after all.” he chimed in, always down for a little jab at his dear brother. Silas groaned and rolled his eyes. “You two have no empathy! I’m getting old, you know!”

“Sanguine is older than you and he has not complained.” Khadiyah reminded Silas.

“Because we haven’t gone very far!” Sanguine agreed, picking up the pace to show his point. He might have been older, but he hadn’t lost his form yet. In fact, he probably looked healthier than he ever had. Years of Rowan’s care and love had left him in peak physical and mental shape. His hide was shiny, blood red and healthy despite it’s many scars. His wings beat as strongly as ever, his spikes were sharp and his eyesight- well, that was perhaps a little questionable, but it was good enough.

Sanguine saddened a bit at the thought of Rowan. His old mate had returned to the Wasteland’s embrace recently, ‘to slumber with the Plague Mother until they would be reunited and reborn together’, or so Rowan had phrased it. But Sanguine still had a part to play, lessons to teach and learn, and so here he was, honouring Rowan’s last request.

Go see Nerissa.

Apologize to her for pushing her away. She strove for his acceptance and he had cast her out. He would be lying if he said he hadn’t thought of doing this himself, but always there was something that would stop him from going, an excuse, a child that needed him more, an injury that prevented him from going, he had to hunt for food for them all, etcetera etcetera. And recently, taking care of Rowan had taken all his focus. Now though, there was nothing to justify not going any more. Rowan was gone, all his children had flown the nest. It was time he made amends with Nerissa, to avoid becoming his mother. To avoid her making the same mistakes he did.

Silas and Khadiyah had offered to accompany him, curious to see their niece once again. They had heard of her clan in the Martyrs Waste, an area that had been the site of many a battle in the past, not in the least between the Mother and her mortal enemy, the Gladekeeper. It was a place of great infamy, where Plague’s toughest dragons battled each other for the right to survive. Those who died in battle there were named martyr to the Plague Mother, though Sanguine was sceptical of this practice himself.

“There, the rock that looks like a mushroom!” Silas called with relief. “Finally!”

Sanguine said nothing, feeling nervous as they descended through the thick fog, Sand particles swept up into his face and battered his hide before they reached the floor, dust and sand kicking up as the three of them landed not far from their landmark. Though the air was thick, it felt welcoming as Sanguine breathed in deep, the scent of home.

Silas was also taking deep breaths, though it was more like he was gasping for air.

“Mother save me, I can’t breathe with this thick fog and sand in my nostrils!” he complained.

“Don’t be dramatic.” Khadiyah frowned and swept her tail up to whirl an extra load of sand Silas’ way. Silas coughed when he got some in his mouth, covering his face with his wing while Khadiyah laughed wickedly.

Sanguine took no notice of their antics behind him, taking in the environment. A huge rock formation towered before them, shaped somewhat like a mushroom. Specks of green luminescence shimmer through the dust, some kind of fungus? The sun behind the rock cast a large shadow through the sand and the fog, but it’s heat was still present, warming Sanguine’s deep red hide. He strode forwards carefully, looking around with purpose for a sign of any dragons other than them. So far, nothing. He turned his head to Silas and Khadiyah.

“Quiet you two. We have to consider the possibility we are not welcome here.” he reminded them.

“Right, because you were rude to her.” Silas said, deadpan. Khadiyah grinned in unison with Silas, like the little shit she was. “He’s got a point.”

Sanguine sighed, quietly shaking his head before moving ahead.

A natural arch big enough to accommodate a large Guardian stood before them, but beyond that he could see nothing but a turmoil of swirling sand. Still, he knew he was in the right place. He could smell his daughter’s distinct scent, sense her presence.

“Stay here.”

Sanguine said the words to Silas and Khadiyah sternly, then proceeded into the thick wall of red sand before him. It battered him, blinded him, all of those things he had expected, but he had not expected the fluorescent green light to pierce through the sand as if a great eye had locked it’s gaze upon him.

The green light was just enough to project a silhouette through the dust on top of the rock. It was far away, but Sanguine recognized the silhouette as an Aberration dragon. When she spoke, it sounded like two voices at once spoke in unison, echoing between the rocky walls.

“I knew you would come.”

[blodgmonster]

PART 2 of my Kingdom of Ash reread commentary that no one but Lindsey reads lol.

-- shit, I forgot that Kaltain has a cameo in this one.

-- Lysandra shifting into a horse and letting a dying boy onto her back, where he dies and freezes to her. God, what a powerful image. And Aedion is STILL being a dick to her. Kicking her out barefoot and naked into the snow. What happened to the Aedion I knew and loved? I know in the end they get back together but if I were Lysandra I don't think there is any way that I could EVER forgive him for treating me like that. Get with Ren, sweetheart, at least he's kind to you. Aedion:

-- "'I'm so tired, Rowan.' His heart strained again. 'I know, Fireheart.' "

-- I forgot that Aelin gives Lorcan the blood oath. Hahaha ha even HE gets the oath before Aedion.

-- they're using wyvern with clipped wings to drag the siege towers and I hate that so much. How dare you clip the wings that you gave them? Poor darlings.

-- hell yeah, the calvary is here!

-- Lysandra poses as Aelin in order to reform the lines. "Her scream as poisoned talons ripped through her thigh sounded above the din of the battle. She went down, shield rising to cover herself. He took it back. He took back everything he had said to her, every moment of anger in his heart." ... "Useless. He'd called her useless. Had thrown her into the snow naked. He took it back."... " She held her ground. Did not yield one inch to the ilken, who advanced another step. For Terrasen, she would do this. For Aelin. He took it back. He took it all back." LYSANDRA IS A QUEEN, A VIP, A GODDESS AND YOU DON'T DESERVE HER, YOU CALLOUS FUCK. Aedion needs to spend the rest of his gods forsaken life attoning for how crappy he treated my girl..

-- "A piece of your bravery that helped me find my own." The female friendships in this series are really where it's at. Aelin and Lysandra. Aelin and Elide. Aelin and Yrene. Aelin and Ansel. Aelin and Manon. Aelin and Nehemia. Aelin and Nersyn. Elide and Manon. Manon and the Thirteen. Nesryn and Borte. Nesyrn and Yrene. Yrene and Hasar. I'm probably missing a few. But they're so good and I think one of the reasons I like ToG better than ACOTAR. Let's name the female friendships in the ACOTAR series, shall we. Feyre and Alis. Feyre and Mor. Nesta and the Valkyeries. Elain and those two wraiths. Is anyone REALLY friends with Amren? Mor and Vivianne. The Archeron sisters love each other but it would be a stretch to call them friends. And that's it. Some of those friendships are not explored. And the friendships, with the exception of Nesta and the Valkyeries, don't really impact the plot. In ToG these friendships are absolutely VITAL to the plot.

-- Fenrys Moonbeam, you absolute legend.

-- "I am so, so tired, Rowan." Gods, give Aelin a fucking break.

-- SJM says so and so's "brows narrowed" a lot and I think she means furrowed?? I can't make my eyebrows get narrower....without plucking.

-- "I have NEVER felt as humiliated as I did when you threw me in the snow. When you called me a lying bitch in front of our allies. NEVER....I was once forced to crawl before men. And gods above, I nearly crawled for you these months. And yet it takes me nearly dying for you to realize you've been an ass? It takes me nearly dying for you to see me as human again?" GET HIM, LYSANDRA!! DRAG HIM TO FILTH!!!

-- Dorian trying out being a woman and considering slipping into a tent to rub one out. Dude. Focus.

-- Manon drawing a line in the snow, holding the line against the High Witches. Reminds me of Nesta holding the line against the Illyrians to give her friends time to get to the summit. My GIRLS.

-- Her grandmother fleeing, fucking coward.

-- MANON BLACKBEAK CROCHAN, QUEEN OF WITCHES!!!!

-- Aelin rocking up to battle in golden armor. Fuck yeah!!!!!

Halfway through the book. Part 3 coming soon.

[toasted-valentine]

Taopp Maya and Rowan analysis

It’s interesting to see how similar the two of them are, seemingly being foils to one another. If you look at their differences and similarities you can see why Maya gets away and is able to have a life with Maddox while Rowan dies in the end.

The biggest differences are patience and willingness to work within the system.

Maya is apparently a couple years older than Rowan, I think I saw that in an ask, and hasn’t had the luxury of being able to indulge in pure hedonism like Rowan has. She has to be more careful with her moves, like playing a game of chess delicately. Rowan koolaid mans his way through every problem, he needs Louis to help him strategize. He doesn’t have the same life experience Maya had. They’re both scheming opportunists who take full advantage of whatever tools that are at their disposal, Rowan tends to use a hammer for every issue while Maya is more considerate of the consequences and what can be done.

Maya and Rowan are both fully ready to kill and throw Jason under the bus to get what they want, actually forget throwing him under the bus, those two were doing donuts over him. Maya wasn’t even the one to suggest Rowan pardoning him, she was just going to get him potentially killed. They both grew up in an environment where brutal tactics were encouraged, Maya doesn’t even bat an eye at her father having murdered the old queen, excusing it as a necessary sacrifice. You can see how similar they are with how they interact, Maya dropping every semblance of polite princess and just swearing like a sailor while calling Rowan a dumbass. Their homicidal plans just bounce off each other with ease, their father’s brutal tendencies showing. They are able to balance out the things holding each other back, Maya gaining Rowan’s willingness to do what it takes, while Rowan’s plan takes deep consideration of court politics with Maya’s knowledge.

They both inherited some of their father’s worst traits, particularly the murdery bits. Their better parts come out cause of their respective partners, Maddox and Louis are both good natured, and you can see how they change Maya and Rowan. Maya is willing to give up all the potential power that being queen gives to he with Maddox, while Rowan is willing to do good for the sake of Louis. Even when jealous and spiteful, Rowan goes to beg for Jason’s life because he know Louis loves him. In the end, Maya is right, palace antics kill his good. Rowan becomes too much like his father, a violent, jealous, drunkard, and Maddox has to put him down.

There’s a few other parallels between the two you can see, particularly with queerness and gender presentation. Rowan is more feminine than a what is considered traditional, wearing makeup, having a relationship with the courtier, wearing flowing black garb. Maya is envious of Rowan, wants to be able to get out of her assigned gender roles, have a relationship with the Maddox openly, not be stuck in palace politics.

In abusive households there can often times form a golden child vs scapegoat dynamic, the golden child is the prize that the parent adores while the scapegoat does everything wrong. Maya was restricted by the king’s desires to groom her into the perfect queen, while everything Rowan does is the worst possible thing to ever happen to the kingdom. It creates resentment between the two, Maya wants the freedom that Rowan has while Rowan wants the favoritism that Maya has. If Maya wasn’t the favorite then maybe Rowan’s mother would still be alive. There’s a phrase that comes to mind, the grass is greener on the other side because it’s fertilized with bullshit.

It’s clear that Maya is the king’s favorite, the king willing to kill Rowan while going into extended mourning when Maya supposedly dies. They’re standoffish with one another cause they think that the other is just like their father, but the two can get along when working for a shared goal. Maya sees the good in her brother, and is right that the palace corrupts whatever good is left.

When Maya leaves she can see the parts of her father that are evil, seeing how restrictive her father was, and how all his supposed fatherly love was just control. She can’t even bring herself to care for her father’s death.

Rowan and Maya are the two sides of the same coin, but end up in different places due to just having some differences in upbringing and partner. Maybe they’d be on opposites side of the story in the end if they’d been raised differently, but as it stands, Rowan dies from his worst traits taking over. He didn’t take the chance to leave when Maya offered it, his blood lust and lust/love for Louis being too much.

[danceworshipper]

@hphm-ship-week Prompt 8: Sunset

aka part two of my gayass Rowan agenda

Ship: f!Rowan/Ismelda 🌲🖤

Date: September 8th, 1989 (sixth year)

It wasn't too cold to be outside yet, though Rowan knew that within a few weeks the Astronomy tower would be one of her least favored spots in the castle once more. She didn't mind staying up late to study the stars, not at all, but the cold of winter? It made her very bones shiver. If they were allowed warming charms there'd be no issue, but Professor Sinestra insisted that being cold helped with their focus. Rowan knew she was right. It still made her mutter under her breath.

She liked to get here early when it was nice weather to watch the sunset, and with most other students preferring to linger at dinner or in their Common Room, she was usually alone. Not that she minded, of course, because it was a great opportunity to get in some extra reading.

"Ugh, you're already here."

The corner of Rowan's mouth twitched upwards, not surprised in the slightest to hear Ismelda's voice behind her. If anyone else was going to show up early, it would be Ismelda. "As if you didn't just walk in an hour early."

Rowan heard the sound of Ismelda dropping her book bag onto the floor, and did her best not to look as footsteps approached and the other sat down close beside her, dangling her legs off the edge between the bars of the railing just like Rowan was.

A warm shoulder leaned against her as Ismelda peered at the book in Rowan's lap.

"What are you reading?" Ismelda asked.

Keeping her thumb on the page she was at, Rowan flipped the book shut to show her. "It's a book about the Goblin Rebellion of 1891. There was a huge confrontation in a hidden chamber below Hogwarts, and a professor named Eleazar Fig was killed."

Ismelda hummed. "There's a hidden chamber below Hogwarts?"

"It's Hogwarts," Rowan said dryly. "Obviously there's a hidden chamber. Probably more than that. Dozens, even."

"Does it say how to get in?"

"It says it's sealed off with an ancient type of magic so that no one can find it."

Ismelda scoffed. "It just says 'ancient magic'? No descriptions of what that means?"

"Nope, but apparently goblins could wield it. That's why the battle was under Hogwarts; there was a huge storage of power that a goblin named Ranrok was trying to steal."

"Hm. You know, I'm surprised a professor died. Guess the adults were less useless back then."

Rowan snorted. "It was a student who actually defeated Ranrok."

"Of course it was," Ismelda sighed. She rested her head on Rowan's shoulder and reached over her to flip the book back open. "How come we didn't learn about this one in class? We learned about a bunch of other rebellions."

Distracted, Rowan took a few extra seconds to answer.

"This is really the only book about it," she explained. "The student wanted to remain anonymous - much easier before handheld photography was widespread - and refused to go into detail about anything. I did ask Binns since he was around back then - "

"Fucking Merlin, he's been dead that long?" Ismelda interjected.

" - but he's got the timeline messed up. He knew Ranrok was a goblin but thought he was connected to something else."

Sighing, Ismelda shook her head. Her hair tickled Rowan's jaw.

"Even with only one book it's worth at least a short lesson," Ismelda reasoned. "There was a whole battle inside of a hidden and probably long forgotten chamber under the castle over some type of 'ancient magic' that no one knows anything about. Next time you take over for Binns, do me a favor and speed through the actual lesson so that you can talk about this. Also, you and I are going to find that chamber somehow, alright? I can get us down to the lowest known point of the castle, and I bet you could figure out how to break in. Then we could study the magic. Surely the two of us could learn how it worked. We'd be famous."

Rowan chuckled. "Yeah, alright. Are you free tomorrow night?"

"I'm being serious."

"I know."

"Obviously we can't try it tomorrow. People will be taking advantage of not having classes the next day. We should do it Sunday when most of them will be in bed."

Ismelda gently took Rowan's hand off of the book to thread their fingers together. "That way we won't be seen together," she said.

As she did every day, Rowan silently wished that someone else would come to class early for once, just to catch them. They both had their reasons to hide their... whatever they were, but she was getting so sick of the secrecy. Sneaking around in the library to study together, staying up late so they could talk in the Common Room, getting to Astronomy class super early. It had been fun at first, the thrill of it. Now it felt like more of an ache.

She pushed it out of her mind, choosing to enjoy the moments they did have, like this one right now. Ismelda flipped the book back to the beginning, but Rowan didn't protest, instead tipping her head up to watch the sun sink down in the sky. Being the highest tower, the Astronomy Tower had a spectacular view of the horizon. It was a wonder students didn't come up here to hang out very often. It was probably all of the stairs, she thought. The view itself wasn't worth that many stairs.

Rowan turned her head slightly to watch the golden light dance on Ismelda's face and found herself counting freckles. She looked so pretty when she wasn't scowling. Distantly, Rowan wondered if her own concentration face was cute, too. Ismelda ran her thumb over Rowan's knuckles as she read; she probably didn't even realize she as doing it. No, the view wasn't worth it by itself, but the company was. One day they could do this somewhere with less stairs. Until then, she'd climb as many as it took.

[mrmeowziii]

Digital art I made, it’s my interpretation or Rodney’s family. Seven brothers and a dad are mentioned in the show, as is his mom being dead in bonus stuff. Scott being his cousin is my headcanon though.

Personalities because why not?

Daryl: Has been a single father for 16 years now, wife got into her tractor-molasses accident and passed away a year after having the twins. He’s very stoic on the outside, but actually very emotional. He’s got eight boys. He’s trying his best, lol. Often not available due to how busy he is at his job. Leaves the farm to his sons for the most part.

Richard: Lax, smokes weed, probably was part of a Portland polycule for a while, maybe still is. Not very responsible, he’s the only child to have left the family farm. Sometimes comes to crash at the farmhouse with one of his partners- everyone’s just gotten used to it at this point.

Ryan: The ‘mom’. Took up a bunch of household responsibilities after his mom died, including cooking and helping to raise some of his younger brothers. He’s very patient and responsible, and dislikes his older brother’s lazy attitude. More focused on the family than any kind of relationship, though he’d like to get married and have kids of his own some day.

Rodney: Helps his brother Ryan with managing the farm. Not as much with the house though, more with the actual farm itself. Similar to how he was on Pahkitew, just more mature with relationships. Pansexual, but he still can’t talk to his crushes without getting extremely flustered.

Robert ‘Robbie’: The rebellious one. Drinks and smokes with Richard, which upsets Ryan to no end. Robbie doesn’t care though. Shortest brother and he hates it. All of the tallness went to his number neighbor brothers. Kind of a bully, but nothing too serious. Has had a crush on this girl who works at the library, Connie, for the longest time. Unfortunately he inherited Rodney’s way with words when it comes to crushes, and hasn’t made much progress with her.

Roy: Quiet and Stoic, Roy is Dawn-ish. His speech is very formal, though he’s often just staring into space. Attracts animals by doing nothing. Not interested in romance at all. Aro/Ace. Robbie used to try to pick on him but gave up after Roy never reacted. Refuses to wear jeans.

Rowan: The smart one, he’s just graduated High school and wants to go to a really nice college. Has a bad habit of looking down on his brothers because of their low intelligence or weird mannerisms. Into a lot of nerdy things, he doesn’t have a lot of people to share his interests with that’ll know what he’s talking about. He’s hoping to find a girlfriend in college that shares his interests.

Ryder: The older of the two twins, Ryder gets along well with Ryan and Rodney, who he spends a lot of time with. He’s introverted and quiet, but not like Roy is. Very kind, but can be a little self-sacrificing. Raphie tries to include him when him and his friends do things, but he just doesn’t quite connect. Undecided when it comes to attraction, he’s got other things on his mind too often. Artsy.

Ralph ‘Ralphie’: Sporty and outgoing, he’s the younger twin and youngest child. Kind of a Himbo, he knows he’s not the smartest, but he’s got a big heart. Looks out for Ryder, who he’s constantly worried about. Gay, He and his boyfriend Archie have been dating for two years now. Comes into conflict with Rowan and Robbie often, especially when Robbie tries to pick on Ryder.

[the-al-chemist]

The Lights That Never Go Out

Chapter 6: Come And Get It

A/N: I am unabashedly a massive fan of Phlegm Fleur, and I was so happy to have a reason to include her in this story. That being said, I was not prepared for how much fun it would be to write dialogue between her and Charlie. This (admittedly loosely) follows the prompt ‘Blue Christmas’ for @thethreebroomsticksfic’s Yule Bash.

17th December, 1998

It was morning. Outside, the sky was the palest shade of blue imaginable, so pale it was almost white, and the sunlight was bright and cool as it flooded through the windows of Charlie’s brother’s marital home.

In the kitchen, Bill and Fleur Weasley were the picture of matrimonial happiness, sharing quiet jokes and chaste kisses as they prepared breakfast together. Charlie would normally have offered to help out, but he felt as if in doing so, he would be getting in their way. Instead, he had taken a seat at the table and tried to make himself as small and inconspicuous as possible.

“Will you two get a room?”

Charlie turned in his chair at the sound of Artemis’ voice. She walked into the kitchen with her eyes on Bill and Fleur, scowling slightly. Bill removed his hands from his wife’s waist and leaned on the countertop.

“It’s our house, this is our room,” he told Artemis with a smirk. “The question is, will you ever pay us rent?”

Artemis pulled a face at Bill and went to take a seat. Clearly, Charlie had been doing a better job of being inconspicuous than he realised, because it was only then that Artemis appeared to notice him. She visibly stiffened, and her lips tightened to a thin line.

“Good morning,” she said. There was a forced breeziness to her voice. Charlie inclined his head.

“Morning.”

He reached up to the window behind him and pushed it open, earning himself a quizzical look from Bill. Charlie nodded his head in Artemis’ direction and shrugged, and his brother pulled the sleeves of his jumper down his forearms. Fleur said nothing, but she tightened her dressing robe around herself as she made her way to the table, four plates of eggs benedict floating through the air in her wake. When Artemis looked from Charlie to the open window and back again, he offered her a small smile. She did not return it.

Charlie couldn’t help but feel disappointed. He’d hoped that their argument would have been forgotten about after they’d both had a day to calm down, but apparently that had been wishful thinking on his part. With the way Artemis had flown off the handle the night before last, he shouldn’t have been surprised that she still needed to cool off, that she would still be cool towards him.

He could barely remember the last time they���d fallen out, it was so long ago. Nine years ago, give or take. Their sixth year at Hogwarts, the year that everything changed, the year that Rowan died. Charlie felt a pang of guilt. He should not have mentioned the idea of losing a best friend to Artemis, as real as the possibility was, as much as that possibility terrified him. If it weren’t for that fear, he would have been content in that moment to have said nothing at all, to have allowed her to kiss him and to kiss her back, and to follow her wherever she led him. A part of him wished he had done just that, but he knew that putting a stop to it was the right thing to do. He couldn’t risk losing her, and even more than that, he couldn’t risk her losing him. After Rowan and Tonks, she wouldn’t be able to cope without him and his family as well. It was better this way. No, they weren’t talking right now, but they would. Everything would be alright again, once Artemis had gotten over it. He only wished he knew when that would be.

“I won’t need to pay you any rent for much longer,” Artemis told Bill as she tucked into her breakfast. “Once I start work I’ll be moving out.”

“Good riddance.” Bill laughed. He used his wand to pour himself a glass of orange juice as Artemis rolled her eyes. “Dare I ask where you’re going? Please don’t tell me you’re moving to Cardiff with some bloke you broke up with six months ago. I don't think any of us can cope with that drama again.”

As surreptitiously as he could, Charlie reached over to pick up the jug of juice that had been floating in the air beside Bill. This was a conversation he did not want to get involved in.

“No, I was thinking of going back to the Three Broomsticks for a bit. I’ll have to check with Rosmerta first, but I can ask her while I’m there for Christmas.”

Charlie’s glass was still half-empty, but he stopped pouring.

“I thought you were coming with us to Mum and Dad’s for Christmas,” he said, before he could stop himself.

In twelve years, he had spent one Christmas without Artemis, the one just gone. It had been the worst Christmas of his life, even worse than the one immediately following Rowan’s death, or the one he had spent in the knowledge that his father was lying in a hospital bed hundreds of miles away from him. This coming Christmas was going to present its own challenges, but he had assumed that he’d be facing them with Artemis at his side. He wasn’t certain that he could get through it without her. And what about her? If she wasn’t coming…

“Well, you thought wrong, didn’t you?” Artemis’ voice was sharp, but when Bill and Fleur looked at her, she became breezy again. “I just think it’s better if I’m not there this year. Y’know, because of Fred.”

She was lying. Charlie would have been able to tell that she was lying, even if he hadn’t known the real reason for her sudden change of heart. He lowered his head so that Bill and Fleur wouldn’t see the look on his face. This was exactly the sort of thing he had wanted to avoid.

“You’re still more than welcome to come to our family’s for Christmas,” said Bill. “If anything, Mum might be glad to have more company. It’ll be less quiet that way.”

Artemis made a non-committal noise and put a forkful of egg into her mouth.

“Ros needs someone capable to help her behind the bar,” she said through her food. Bill frowned at her.

“You have egg on your face.”

At Bill’s comment, Artemis swallowed and used her hand to wipe a spot of yolk from her chin. She looked at her palm for a moment, then licked it.

“Really?” Bill blinked at her. His eyes flicked towards Charlie momentarily, so he wasn’t sure who his brother was addressing when he asked: “What is wrong with you?”

“What?” Artemis asked. She pushed herself away from the table. “Whatever, I’m finished. Thanks for making me breakfast.”

“Thanks for putting me off mine.”

In response, Artemis narrowed her eyes at Bill, picked up her empty plate, and licked it, before placing it back down on the table and leaving the kitchen entirely. Bill shook his head as he watched her leave.

“Over two billion women in this world, Charlie, and that is what does it for you,” he muttered, once she was out of earshot. He sighed and rose from his chair. “I’d better get to work. Love you.”

Bill kissed Fleur on the cheek before he left her alone with Charlie. Charlie cleared his throat.

“I guess there’s probably no way that you didn’t hear him say that, is there?” he asked. “Because it’s not… That’s not what it is. And whatever Bill has told you—”

“‘Ow do you know zat Bill ‘as told me anything?”

Charlie’s eyebrows furrowed. “Has he not told you anything?”

“No, ‘e ‘as.” Fleur’s sea-blue eyes glittered over the top of her cup as she took a sip of coffee. “‘E told me everything, in fact.”

“Great. That’s just great.”

Charlie exhaled loudly, but he struggled to feel annoyed. Fleur looked so amused that he struggled not to smile. He placed his head into his hands and laughed at his own expense.

“I mean it, though. The way Bill will have said it, it won’t be right. He doesn’t get it.”

“No, I suppose ‘e wouldn’t.”

“It’s not about anything ‘doing it’ for me, it’s not anything to do with… She’s my best friend, y’know? That’s what it is. He doesn’t understand that.” Charlie shrugged. “I’m not sure if anyone does. The more I hear people speak about this sort of thing, the more I feel like I am a bit different when it comes to this.”

Fleur put down her mug. She nodded, slowly and thoughtfully.

“Yes, I zink so,” she said.

“You’re really good at making people feel better, has anyone ever told you that?”

“I am not trying to make you feel better, I am just saying ‘ow it is,” Fleur told him. “Because of my grandmuzzer, most people react when zey first get to know me. Either zey are drawn towards me, or it is like zey are angered by me. You ‘ave noticed zat, no?”

Of course Charlie had noticed the effect Fleur had on people. How could he not have? He nodded his head.

“But you do not understand zis,” said Fleur. It was a statement, not a question. “Some people don’t react. I can always tell when zey don’t.”

“Why don’t they?”

“I suppose because zey are just a bit different. Did you meet my parents at our wedding?”

“Yeah.”

“In zat case, you must ‘ave seen that my muzzer is much better looking zan Papa,” Fleur said. Charlie wasn’t sure how to respond. “It is true. When I was young, people used to say it all the time. Zey used to make jokes about it.”

Charlie could imagine the jokes. He didn’t need to imagine them, his brothers had made them at the wedding.

“Once, I asked ‘er why she loved ‘im, when zere were so many more ‘andsome wizards she could ‘ave loved. And she said zat she ‘ad never noticed zem. She said zat for some people, love comes in by the eyes, but it never ‘ad for ‘er. For ‘er, it was because of everything else zat she fell in love, and it was only zen zat it got to ‘er eyes.”

“That makes sense.”

Fleur smiled. “I was zinking it might. It never made sense to me until Bill got attacked, but now I understand it, too. I’d like to zink zat if it ‘ad been me, zat Bill would ‘ave understood it, but…”

“He would,” Charlie tried to assure her, but she did not appear to need any reassurance at all.

“Per’aps. Per’aps not. It does not matter now, does it?” She waved a dismissive hand. “What I am saying is, I zink zat you are like my muzzer.”

“Only not quite as good looking.”

“Well, no. Obviously not.”

Charlie was too tickled by the bluntness of her response to even be remotely offended by it. He chuckled, before raising his eyes to the ceiling.

“I should go and talk to her. Artemis, I mean, not your mum.”

He found Artemis in her room, the door to which she had left open. He knocked on it anyway.

“Is it alright if I come in?” he asked. Artemis glowered at him for a moment before shrugging her shoulders. Charlie took that as an affirmative response. “Thanks.”

He hesitated by the door. Fleur was still around, and he would have preferred to have this conversation in private, but he knew that no good would come from him closing it completely. He left it slightly ajar and joined Artemis on the bed.

“What do you want?” she said.

There were many things that Charlie wanted. He started with the simplest thing.

“I want you to come to Mum’s for Christmas. Please. It’ll be rubbish without you. You should come.”

“Really?” Artemis muttered. “Because I wouldn’t have thought you’d want me there, seeing as I don’t really care that much.”

Charlie just about managed to stop himself from sighing.

“Yeah, alright. I shouldn’t have said that. I know you care. I’m sorry. For that and for the whole ‘losing a friend’ thing. I honestly wasn’t talking about Rowan. I wasn’t even thinking about Rowan, if I had thought about it, then I’d never…” He paused. “But that’s kind of the point, isn’t it?”

“What is?”

“Well, I didn’t think about what I was saying and what that meant, and so I ended up hurting you. You see?”

Artemis said nothing, just stared at Charlie with her lips pursed.

“I don’t want to hurt you. I don’t want anyone to hurt you, honestly, but I definitely don’t want to be the one who hurts you,” Charlie explained. “And I know you don’t want to be the one who hurts me, either. I mean, do you?”

It felt like an age before Artemis answered, “No.”

“That’s a relief.” Charlie was only half-joking, but Artemis’ lips twitched anyway. “So, you get it, right? Why I was asking you to think before—”

“Did you think before you kissed me?” asked Artemis. “About what might happen after?”

“I thought one of us or both of us might die after. I didn’t really have the time to think much past that, I’m afraid.”

It was true, in a way. Over the years, Charlie had spent a lot of time thinking about what might happen after, but that night at the battle, he hadn’t thought at all.

“It’s different now, though,” he said. “There’s all the time in the world. That’s why it’s better to take some time to think about this, isn’t it?”

Artemis was silent. Her front teeth grazed her bottom lip, her eyes stared at her hands in her lap. When she finally lifted her gaze to look at Charlie, he could see that they were filled with such deep apprehension that it bordered on fear.

“No,” she said, with a little shake of her head. “I don’t want to do that.”

Charlie shrugged his shoulders. “Alright.”

“It’s not…”

“No, I know. I get it,” Charlie told her. “Really, it’s alright.” He meant it. He understood that fear. He had felt it himself. “Still friends?”

“Of course.” Artemis gave him the smallest hint of a smile. “Still friends.”

For a moment, Charlie considered hugging her, but it felt almost inappropriate to do so now. Instead, he held out his hand for her to shake, a decision he immediately regretted. As Artemis’ sceptical eyes travelled slowly from his face to his hand, his insides curdled with embarrassment.

After an excruciating few seconds, she shook his hand. Once she had let go, he rubbed his fingertips against his own palm. It felt distinctly empty without hers pressed against it. And, maybe it was the open bedroom window, but the air between them felt distinctly colder than he could remember it ever being.

Neither of them spoke. For the first time in years, Charlie wasn’t sure what he should say to Artemis. They were still friends, but the stillness between them had never been this stiff before, their companionable silence so uncomfortable.

Something had changed, somehow. It didn’t matter that Charlie had been trying to do the right thing, something had gone wrong, or had just gone. He didn’t know where it had gone, or how, it just had.

Worst of all, he didn’t even know if he’d ever get it back again.