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dragon-kazansky · 17 hours

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Bridgerton shade of blue

Benedict Bridgerton x Female Reader

The Viscount is set on finding a wife this season, and you are trying again for your second season. While Anthony is dealing with trials between Edwina and Kate Sharma, you are dealing with trials of your own. Benedict Bridgerton is ever present in your life, but your pursuit to find a husband must come first. Society is ever so exhausting.

{Masterlist}

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Season Two

Chapter Nineteen - Together again

You had sat your mother down when you got home. She called for tea, and you sat down beside her, wondering how you were going to tell her the news. Your poor mother had been stressing out since she revived the letter from your uncle, your father's brother, about taking back his money to support you both while in London.

"Mother, I... Our situation may have come up with the Bridgerton's earlier, and I have recieved a very generous offer from them." You start slowly.

"Are you to wed one of them?" She sits up in her seat, looking at you eagerly. Of course she would assume that.

"Um, no."

She looks rather deflated with your answer. "What is it then?"

"The Viscount has offered to take me under his wing and set me a dowry aside. We don't need to rush to find me a husband. Anthony will look after us. Violet had offered to help find a suitor."

Your mother now looks elated. "Oh, darling, that'd wonderful!" She hugs you.

You smile. You feel like a huge weight has been lifted off your shoulders.

"Oh, this is wonderful! I must send the Dowergess something in return. My gratitude to that family will be forever endless."

You chuckle at how excited your mother is. You haven't seen her this cheerful in quite some time. It felt good to see her smile again.

"Flowers! I shall send her an abundance of flowers!" Your mother rises from her chair and goes off in search of a maid who she can send down to the flower shop. You roll your eyes with a smile.

Things were looking up again.

A couple of days later, you're at the Bridgerton house. It's as lively as you remember it being last year. Eloise was practising some dancing with Gregory while Violet watched on. Gregory didn't seem to mind dancing with his sister, but Eloise seemed to mind quite a lot. You knew how she felt about this whole thing.

Benedict was sitting on the couch nearby. You were sitting opposite him, watching them the two siblings dance.

"I do not think she is very good," Hyacinth says, coming over to sit with you.

"I believe she can hear you," Benedict says to her in response.

"I can hear you," Eloise confirms.

"Ow! Watch my feet!" Gregory looks up at his sister after she steps on his foot.

"Might we be done?" Eloise asks.

"If you are to catch the queen's eye after that interruption, you must be perfection." Violet states.

"I believe it was the interruption that was perfection," Eloise sighs.

"Shocking that Eloise Bridgerton was not named the season diamond, was it not?" Benedict says casually.

At that exact moment, Anthony comes strolling in. "Was anyone else aware that dear Colin has decided to add Albania or some such place to his itinerary as he gads about the world?"

"How wonderful it must be to travel," you say softly.

"I rather prefer the comfort of the countryside," Benedict comments.

"I do miss the country."

Benedict looks up from his sketchbook, of which he has been working very hard on, to look at you. "Then you need to come to our family estate."

You find yourself looking away shyly. He's still disappointed he didn't see you all summer.

"How lucky for him that he can simply decide to do that," Eloise remarks.

"Joining us for tea, Anthony?" Violet asks.

"Uh, I'm afraid I must pass. Too many calls on my funds today. Now that the season has started, I need to fill your coffers at the modiste and oversee the hiring of extra staff. And your ring. When you get the chance, I need it."

You look at Anthony silently. He was serious.

"The fields by Ferryhallow. I was thinking we might hold off on leasing them due to the hard frost." Anthony continues.

"I beg your pardon?" Violet looks at her eldest son.

"The frost hardens the soil, saps it of nutrients," he explains. "That is very well, but you requested my ring?"

"Father's betrothal ring."

"Did someone catch your eye at the presentation, Brother?" Benedict asks with a grin.

"I thought all the young ladies looked beautiful," Hyacinth chimes in.

"Not particularly. And all the young ladies looked the same. Like young ladies. I'd simply like to be prepared for when the opportunity presents itself," Anthony clarifies.

"The opportunity?" Violet asks.

"I've already compiled an index of the season's eligible misses and arranged interviews."

You look at Anthony in disbelief. He was serious. Those poor ladies.

"Interviews!" Violet chuckles. "Dearest, I shall be more than happy to give you my ring when you find someone with whom you are very much in love. Besides, it is in safekeeping at Aubrey Hall."

"Very well."

Violet slides up to the sofa Benedict is lounging on and looks at him. "See that he is quite well."

"Me?" Benedict asks, looking up at her.

"I'm not in need of coddling," Anthony says from across the room. "I assure you all, everything is in order."

Anthony checks his pocket watch and then takes his leave rather quickly. Everyone watches him go in silence. You turn to look at Benedict once Anthony is gone, and he just sighs, looking back at you.

Anthony Bridgerton was a stubborn fool.

Later that afternoon, while Eloise went to the market with Penelope, an endeavour you were not invited to take part in, you spent the hours with Benedict in his makeshift studio. He called it a studio, but it was merely a room he came in to sketch quietly away from his family.

You liked that about Benedict. The way he finds comfort in his own little bubble. He cared very little for society and all its trails. He was more tranquil.

You watch him sketch away, his attention deep into the pages in the book. Last year, he granted you the privilege to come see his hobby. He shared his work with you, and you complimented it. Even now, you had had no idea just how much you had impacted him and his art.

He rubs gently at the charcoal on the page, smudging it carefully. You watch with great interest as he examines his work. He pulls a slight face. While he decides if he likes it or not, you admire him.

Benedict Bridgerton is handsome, kind, funny, and gentle. He has an eye for detail and a smile to charm any lady who is lucky enough to witness it.

He would have no trouble finding a wife of he wanted to.

The thought makes you look down at the table quietly. It would be so easy for him to find a perfect match. Someone who compliments him and would look after him. You are not so lucky.

Though you hope to catch someone's eye at the ball tomorrow night, you won't hold your breath. You're not a pretty Bridgerton.

"Are you alright?"

You look up and meet his beautiful blue eyes. You swear you've never seen a shade like them before.

"Yes. Sorry. I've just been thinking."

"I can see that," he chuckles.

You smile softly and turn your eyes back to his book so you won't have to look at him again. "Do you ever plan on getting married?"

"Has mother put you up to this?" He teases.

"No, I just... You'd make a good husband."

"Is that what you've been thinking about?" He chuckles. "If I can help it, I'll remain a bachelor."

"I see." You sigh softly. You shouldn't be surprised. You won't mention marriage again to him.

Benedict watches you for a moment and then turns the page in his sketchbook. He sketches away quietly, glancing at you every so often. You don't even notice, too caught up in your thoughts again.

You were so beautiful when you were loat in your mind. No. You were beautiful all the time. Benedict hoped you knew that.

He did the best he could in a short span of time, taking in as many details as possible. You were a vision in his eyes. When he was sat fired with the sketch, he put his book down on the table and slid it over to you, nudging you out of your thoughts.

You look down at the book and see the sketch of you looking back.

"Benedict... you're so talented."

He chuckled softly. "I just want you to see yourself the way I do. I know how important it is to you that you find a husband and look after your mother. You'll find someone."

You look into those beautiful blue eyes and for just a moment with that he would be the one.

You look away. "Thank you."

Benedict also finds himself looking away. Perhaps he had been a little too forward there. However, he doesn't regret telling you what he thought.

You only sit there a few moments more before excusing yourself and heading home. It felt a little strange staying there for any longer.

Benedict sat alone in that room, unable to draw anymore. His mind was preoccupied now.

He wished you had stayed.

When you got home, your mother noticed how quiet you were. She watched you retreat upstairs alone. You wanted to call out to you and check you were alright, but she didn't.

You stayed up in your room for the rest of the afternoon. Only coming down for dinner. Your mother didn't ask why you had become so quiet. You would tell her if you wanted to.

It wasn't until you finished dinner that you spoke up. "Mother?"

"Yes, dear?"

"I'm going to make you proud. You know that, don't you?"

Your mother smile. "You always make me proud."

You smile back. You knew she meant it. Despite everything you and she had been through with losing your father, losing the country house, your uncle backing out of looking after you, you still had each other and you would make her proud. Every single day.

"I'm going to look after you," you tell her.

"You don't need to worry about me."

"I always do."

You both smile at each silently.

You swore to yourself there, and then that this year, you would do better. This year, you will find your place in the world.

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#Bridgerton shade of blue #benedict bridgerton x reader #female reader #Bridgerton #dragon writes #season two

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halogalopaghost · 1 day

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Doctor On Call

read on AO3

“Hey Donnie, is this infected?”

Donatello jerked away from his workstation as Mikey’s foot came down on it heel-first. A large nodule stuck out from the lateral interior of his foot—red, angry, and (oh, goody) leaking.

He wrinkled his nose and used his screwdriver to push the foot unceremoniously off his desk. “How’d you even manage to get a blister there? We don't wear shoes, Mikey.”

He laughed. “You’re tellin’ me, dude. But uh, it kinda hurts, so—”

Donnie heaved a long-suffering sigh. “Hang on, let me go sterilize a needle.”

---

“Y’know how you said to never remove a weapon if you’re impaled?”

Don swiveled around in his chair, only able to see a green and red blur through his magnifying visor. He pushed it up and away from his eyes with the back of his grungy hand, and found a little more red decorating the scene than he would have liked.

“Raphael,” he began evenly, “would you care to explain how this happened?”

Standing on the threshold of his brother’s lab, Raphael shifted from foot to foot. The sai embedded in his shoulder wobbled slightly, but he didn't so much as wince. “No,” he finally said.

Donnie put a hand to his face for a moment, drawing in a steadying breath. “At least have the decency to go get the suture kit, then.”

Raph grinned guiltily, then went for the kit.

---

“Heeey, Donnie,” Leo drawled.

Donatello froze, hunched over his workspace. “What did you do?”

Leo must have taken that as an invitation to enter, because his bare feet padded farther into the room, stopping just behind Don. He rested a hand heavily on his brother’s shoulder. “Why assume I did something? Do I need an ulterior motive to check in on my little bro?”

Donnie’s mouth thinned into a line as he stared bemusedly at his latest robotics project. “Well we could start with the slurred speech and the weave in your gait.”

He shrugged Leo’s hand off and turned around in the worn desk chair. It was lucky he did, it gave him just enough time to snatch Leo’s arm before he completely busted his shell. The fast-bruising welt on his head proved Don’s theory.

“Did you hit your own head, or did Raph finally snap?”

For a second, Leo looked like he was going to deny it, then his shoulders fell and he sighed. “I lost a fight with the cabinet above the stove. Think you could check for a concussion?”

“Only if I get lifetime mocking rights,” he shot back. “Fearless Leader Felled by Cast Iron Pan From Above, what a headline.”

Leo sat heavily on the spare stool. “Fine, fine.”

Don plucked his penlight from the pencil cup and swiveled toward his brother. “See, this is why Mikey doesn’t let you in the kitchen.”

---

“Excuse me, Donatello.”

Donnie startled in his chair. Master Splinter always surprised him like that; he could hear his brothers coming from a mile away, but never their father. He stood and turned to face him, bowing quickly. “Yes, Sensei—oh.”

Master Splinter stood on the threshold of the lab, holding out his shaking paws—the pads of which were an angry red, and growing blisters quickly. Donatello practically picked his father up in the process of getting him to a place to sit down.

“Leo!” He hollered in the general direction of the dojo, hoping that’s where his brother was. “Bring ice! Sensei, you should have put these under the faucet immediately,” he chided softly.

“Yes, my son, I realized that halfway here.” He chuckled, despite how painful it must have been to have Donnie poking and prodding at his hands. “What is it that you say? Six, half dozen?”

Donnie laughed too, he couldn't help it. Anything sounded like a wise old Japanese proverb when Master Splinter said it. And the fact that his first thought had been to go to his son…well, Donnie knew he was no doctor, but it was touching how much trust his family placed in him.

Leo, bless him, showed up less than sixty seconds later with ice wrapped in a thin dish towel. “Sensei!” He sucked a breath through his teeth, catching a glimpse of his burned paws before Donnie placed the ice on top of them. “What happened?”

He looked at his sons from beneath his thick brows, one ear twitching. “We shall tell your brothers a different story, but…I was trying to make tea,” he finally relented.

Donnie’s hand audibly smacked against his forehead. Leave it to the master ninja to give himself partial thickness burns with a pot of water.

Leo laid a hand on Sensei’s shoulder. “We’ll tell Raph and Mikey that you were training and save you the torment.”

Sensei laughed again, more heartily this time. “Thank you, my sons.”

Donnie took the ice away from his hands. “Hmm, that doesn't look good. Let's go back to the kitchen and run them under water, okay?”

“Of course, Donatello. Thank you.”

Holding onto Sensei’s elbow as they left for the kitchen, Donnie beamed at the praise.

---

Three things happened at once: first, a string of very colorful language drifted from Donnie’s lab over to where his three brothers sat in front of the television; the power flickered twice and then cut out; and in the very brief, very dark silence that followed, the fire alarm in Donnie’s lab began shrilling.

All three of them jumped up without a word to one another, expertly navigating their home in the dark.

“Donnie!” Leo called, skidding into the dark lab.

Raphael clambered on top of a workbench to silence the alarm, sending Donnie’s projects and gadgets tumbling all over. There was no fire, just the smell of smoke.

“Don?” Leo tried again. He stilled, briefly confused that he couldn't find his brother in the dark. Usually he would at least hear his breathing—

Oh shell, he wasn't breathing.

The three of them realized as one, and the scramble began anew. Leo fell to his hands and knees to find his brother, Mikey went for the emergency floodlight on the wall, and Raph left the lab altogether. By the time he came back with the AED, Leo was already halfway through a round of compressions.

CPR on a turtle was…complicated. Their hearts were dead center in their chest, to begin with, which meant ‘the medial joint of their plastron’s scutes prevented compressions too deep’, as Donatello had so technically said. Donnie assured them all that if a scute was cracked or bruised during compressions, it would be okay. But now that Leonardo actually had his brother's plastron beneath his palms, hearing and feeling the groan of it every time he pressed down, he didn't feel so certain.

Raph knelt on Donnie’s other side while Mikey stood over them with the flashlight, trying to illuminate as much of the scene as possible.

“Do you smell that?” Mikey asked, voice shaking.

Yeah, they smelled it. Burned flesh was hard to miss. But treating whatever other wounds Donnie had sustained had to come second to his heart.

Raph tore the paper off the AED pads and carefully placed them just like Don taught him, then pressed the on switch. They all nearly jumped out of their shells when Donnie’s voice, thin and tinny, came out of the AED. “Analyzing cardiac rhythm,” it said.

Raph wanted to cover his ears. If the last time he heard his brother’s voice was from the stupid AED—

“Administering shock. Stay clear of the patient.”

“Clear,” Raph said.

“Clear,” both of his brothers echoed, Leo holding his hands up near his head to prove it.

“Shock will be delivered in 3…2…1…” Donnie jolted once as electricity shot through him. “Shock administered, check pulse and breathing and resume compressions if necessary.”

Raph put his fingers on Don’s neck, then shook his head. Leo moved to resume compressions, but he signaled him to stop. No, there was something there…

Both brothers froze.

“I have a pulse, but he’s not breathing.” Without giving his brothers any time to respond to that information, Raph lifted one meaty fist and brought it down hard on the center of Don’s chest.

Donnie took a deep breath, eyes flying open in terror. He wobbled on his shell, off-balance in a panicked effort to flee. Three sets of hands came down on his chest to stop him.

“Donnie, don't move,” Leo said urgently. He took his brother’s pulse, actually timing it this time, and listened to his heavy, ragged breathing for a moment.

The power came back on.

“What the fuck, Don!” Raph yelled.

He looked between his brothers, clearly disoriented, but less panicked with a good view of his surroundings. “Sorry,” he gasped out. He accepted his their help as he struggled to sit up, hands over his plastron. “Ough, my chest. What happened?”

Leo grabbed his hands, flipping them palms up. He wrinkled his nose. Well, he figured out where the burned flesh smell came from—Donnie’s palms were both blistered and slightly charred, but it didn't seem to cover too much surface area.

“We were kinda hopin’ you could tell us,” Raph sighed out, adrenaline ebbing.

Donnie eyed the AED, then looked over Raph’s head up to his workstation. He blinked a few times, then smiled sheepishly. “I, uh. I think I forgot to unplug it.”

They followed Donnie’s eyes up to the unidentifiable appliance on the workbench. Whatever it was, Donnie had long stripped it of its housing and any other identifiable features. Other than that it was made of metal and plugged into the wall, they didn't have a clue what it was.

“You knucklehead,” Raph muttered. “I’d kill you if I hadn’t just finished savin’ your skin.” He ripped the pads off Don’s chest and tossed them in the AED bag, standing up to wash his hands of the whole affair.

Mikey scooted into Raph’s spot and threw his arms around Donnie’s neck. “Don’t ever do that again! I thought you were toast, bro!”

“Don’t do what again?” Splinter appeared in the doorway, body-blocking Raphael. He tapped his cane on the ground, whiskers twitching.

“Oh—Sensei, uh. I just had…an accident. Everything’s okay now. No need to worry.” He tried for a smile. It was too wobbly to be reassuring.

He gave all four of his sons an incredibly unamused stare. They all ducked their heads, still unwilling or unable to stick their ground in the face of that all-knowing look. “Leonardo, how badly is he wounded?”

“It’s not too bad, Sensei.” He held Donnie’s burned hand out, showing him the minor damage. “I’m more worried about the fact that your heart stopped, Donnie.”

Donatello had the decency to look ashamed. “It probably didn’t stop,” he muttered. “Most likely, it was ventricular fibrillation.”

“Oh, that sure makes me feel better,” Raph drawled sarcastically. “I guess he’s fine, guys, let’s all hit the hay. Are you stupid, Donnie? No—don’t answer that.”

“I’m fine! You guys knew exactly what to do, so I'm fine. Just a little bruised up.”

Splinter, with his ears pressed flat against his head, closed his eyes momentarily and took a deep breath. “You four will be the end of me. Donatello, be honest—what side effects should we prepare for?”

He pulled his hands away from Leo, using the side of one to rub absently at his chest. “Uhh, nothing much. Just, uh, that my heart doesn’t…stop again. Or something like that.”

“Oh, sure, nothin’ too serious,” Raph scoffed.

Only the telltale twitch of their father’s whiskers alerted them to his vague irritation. “You will be sleeping in the infirmary bed tonight, my son. Come, help your brother up.”

Mikey and Leo got Donnie to his feet pretty quickly, and Raph put a hand on the back of his shell as if to say ‘there, I participated, are you happy?’ They helped him the few steps to the infirmary cot, which Donnie was surprised to actually need. Not only did his legs seem unwilling to comply—it seemed that the electricity had left an exit wound on the bottom of his left foot.

Master Splinter sat in the chair beside the cot, pulling the rolling cart of medical supplies closer to himself. “I will treat the burns while you set up the heart monitor.”

“Guys, really, I'm okay.” Even as Leo started sticking EKG nodes on him and Raph clipped the pulse oximeter on one green finger, he protested. “The likelihood of going into v-fib again is infinitesimal.”

“Ahh, darn, looks like we can't comply with your complaints if we can't understand the words yer usin’,” Raphael drawled.

Splinter gently drew Donnie’s burned hand into his own. “My son, it is you that so often cares for us when we are injured or unwell. Let us return the favor now and care for you.”

Donnie smiled in spite of himself, looking down at his lap as he felt heat rise in his cheeks. “Okay, I guess that makes sense. Thank you, Sensei.”

“Didja hit your head on the way down?” Raph asked, standing behind his head.

“Uh, I don't think so. No bumps, no headache.”

“Good.” A smack reverberated around the room. “Be smarter next time, genius.”

Don lurched forward, hands raised instinctively to protect the head that Raph smacked. “Ow! Talk about insult to injury!”

“That's actually injury to injury,” Raph corrected, leaning into his field of vision. “You die, an’ I'm gonna dig you up just to kill you again. You hear?”

Donnie winced as Master Splinter made his first pass with the antibacterial gel on his hand. “Loud and clear, boss,” he grumbled.

Maybe, just maybe, it would be okay to let himself be taken care of.

Just this once.

#the ghost writes #tmnt #tmnt 03 #tmnt 2003 #fanfic #crosspost #turtleposting #tmnt fanfic

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jimblejamblewritings · 1 day

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love letters and second sons | part 4.

Summary: The princess is finally ready to debut in society. But before she does, she decides to disguise herself and see the true faces of the ton.

Warnings for the Series: light sexism in line with the times, light classism in line with the times, mental health stigma, shitty doctor care, smut, suicide attempt (will get it's own warning when the time comes)

Warnings for this part: smut

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x princess!reader

Word Count: 4.7k

Previous Part | Series Masterlist

The cloak wrapped around you felt like velvet. The softness between your fingers calmed you down significantly. Reynolds grabbed your hand after the fifth time you balled it up in your skirts. You looked up to see your three valets trying to hide the concern on their faces. You could have an incident or get caught or both. None of those three options were ideal or even good.

“Do I look decent?” you asked as the carriage got closer and closer to the party.

“You look perfect.”

“Maybe I shouldn’t wear the mask?”

“You don’t have to but keep it on you.”

You agreed, exiting the carriage with a letter from the princess version of you — complete with a wax seal — that was basically a pass to enter any establishment no matter what. Spotting Penelope and Colin out of the corner of your eye, you breathed out a sigh of relief and ran over to them. Both of them wore wide smiles at your surprise arrival. They had been expecting a letter or something to signal your arrival back from Ireland.

You were sad to hear about Marina not joining you all for this evening. It would have been nice to know her more than a little bit in between the courting of suitors. But there would be more times to meet and catch up later. Plus, hearing your friends’ stories of their daily lives proved to be a good enough distraction. You let them go after a while so Colin could escort Penelope to the dance floor like he promised to do after a run in with Cressida Cowper.

Looking around, you failed to immediately locate the rest of the Bridgerton children. You grabbed a drink from the lemonade table and began to wander. The alcohol had looked appealing but you had never drank, afraid of the consequences if drink mixed with your illness. Someday you’d try some but not after an episode. Never right after one.

On the outskirts of the party, still close enough to hear the music, you ran into Benedict. He gave you a smile and the same surprised look on his face as Penelope and Colin. You leaned in closer to hear him over the deafening melodies of the orchestra. Small talk that was mainly about your fictitious trip made up the first half of your conversation. After a while, you grew comfortable with each other as if you never left.

“The lights are beautiful,” he commented, staring at the small lantern display that a scientist presented.

You nodded. “We have some at the palace. They add more day by day but it would be nice if all of London, maybe all of the world, had these little lights. How has your art been?”

“Not terribly well. Nothing seems to be good enough.”

“Well, what are you drawing?”

“Still life. I can’t expect my free drawings to be good if I can’t depict what is right in front of me.”

“You are too hard on yourself, Benedict seriously,” you argued when he scoffed. “Sometimes we have a problem seeing our own greatness. You ju—”

“Would you ever consider marriage to someone, me, perhaps?”

You choked on your lemonade. “Pardon?”

“Apologies.” He finally turned to look at you. “With Daphne out in society, people have started looking at Anthony and because my dear brother does not care to at least pretend to be a proper viscount, they have started to look at me. Ravenous mamas are eyeing me and it must be a matter of time before they talk to me.”

You laughed. “You still call me Miss Keaton yet you want me to help you through a marriage?”

“Wait, what is your name, actually? If you are to continue being a friend of the family then I am at liberty to refer to you by first name.”

“Bergamot. My parents were a bit too keen on gardens.”

“That is a lovely name.”

“Thank you… I still won’t marry you.”

Benedict scrunched up his face as he bent over to try and plead with you. “Please! I can’t be out here with the wolves.”

You patted him on the shoulder. “Your whining, no matter how pathetic and cute, will not work. I will see you tomorrow, alright.”

He muttered something that you didn’t hear while you took off into the gardens for a stroll. You’d have to leave soon, pressing your luck wasn’t the way to go. You put your cloak back on and closed it to hide your dress completely as you finally put your mask on. The gardens at night were very beautiful. Perhaps because you were alone.

You chuckled at the thought of your interaction with Benedict. Even if it happened only a few moments ago, it was hysterical. It was only funnier because you were sure that when you finally introduced yourself to society, you’d get even stranger proposals. Only they wouldn’t be to avoid hungry mamas. And they wouldn’t be coming from one of your friends.

Hopefully, they wouldn’t be too upset with you. Hyacinth would never but she was more like a little sister than a friend. Benedict would think the whole situation is funny, hopefully. Daphne might as well. Eloise and Penelope could go either way. Anthony would probably be mad that you let him attempt to woo the princess when you knew the truth which would make Colin and Gregory and Francesca mad at you as well. But maybe it would be fine after you explained everything.

The sound of voices caught your attention. Spying was wrong but you couldn’t help yourself. You started to walk into the hedges, ignoring the twigs catching everywhere. The view wasn’t the best but you could see well enough. What could be a scandal between Daphne Bridgerton and Nigel Berbrooke seemed to be a very different scene to you because you knew the man from her letters. You tightened the mask around you just in case you needed to leave the bushes.

Nigel kept coming close to Daphne. You began to run when he grabbed her, thinking of how to protect your friend. You’d have to hit him. That was the only option. There was nothing else you could do about it… You paused as Daphne pulled her hand back. There was Nigel Berbrooke on the ground. After being punched.

You and Daphne looked up from Nigel to see the Duke of Hastings running into the garden clearing as well. The two of them seemed to realize that you were the princess and you were in the garden with them having witnessed everything. They bowed to you deeply, something you returned.

“I will survey the area. If I do not return then you two may safely leave the garden.”

“Thank you, Your Highness.”

“It is no trouble really. I am so sorry for your distress, Miss Bridgerton, and I do hope your hand feels better in the morning.”

You did a thorough check of the area to make sure that Daphne wasn’t compromised before fleeing to your carriage before anyone could spot the mask. Assuring your valets nothing went wrong, you closed the carriage door and let it drive back to Kew.

“Thank you,” you said as you took off your mask and cloak and opened the carriage window since it was night.

“For what?”

“For making me go out tonight. I did need it. I feel better, immensely.”

“That is good. We are glad to hear it. Will you be going out again tomorrow?”

“Just to the Bridgertons.”

“Oh, to home then.”

You rolled your eyes but didn’t argue because they were right. Being at the Bridgertons felt like home more than your own at times. Maybe because your mother and father were the only ones who even tried to be a proper family. But there was no trying with the Bridgertons. They just were family.

That much was true when you walked into the house a lot later than the early morning to see everyone but Eloise in the drawing room, talking about Daphne and the Duke. You said hello, greeted by hugs from everyone who didn’t see you yesterday. You took the plate of toast from Violet, who was trying to get her daughter to eat, and shoved the bread under Daphne’s nose. She took a bite before actually grabbing it from you. Relieved of your mother bird duties, you plopped down on the couch in between Benedict and Colin.

“What are your plans for today?”

“Fencing and then a gentlemen’s club and then preparing for a party tomorrow and, dreadfully, a picnic the next day,” Colin said as he handed you a chocolate from the box on the side table.

“May I watch?”

“Of course. A beautiful lady will only encourage us.”

“Since when did you learn to be a flirt?”

He just shrugged, sitting back to listen to Daphne play the pianoforte and tease her about the duke. You clapped at the end of her piece and requested a second one that she obliged. Daphne would have to play at the palace some time or at least at Kew. She sounded lovely. Closing your eyes, you just listened for a moment.

“How does a lady come to be with child?”

Your eyes flew open to see Eloise standing in front of everyone. Violet jumped up from her brief moment of sitting on the couch across from you.

“Eloise, what a question!”

“I thought marriage was a requirement.”

Daphne tilted her head. “What?”

“Apparently, it’s not even a requirement.”

“Eloise.”

“Mama, the princess did say all young women nearing their debut should learn.”

Violet stuttered as she took the tray of food out of the room, forcing Hyacinth and Gregory to go with her, stating she’d be back in a moment she just needed some water. She turned back for a moment.

“Daphne, dear, do go on. I’d like to hear some calming music when we return.”

Eloise trudged over to the couch, sitting on the other side of Benedict. She smacked her brothers’ knees but neither one of them wanted to answer her directly. Colin turned his head.

“Have you ever visited a farm, El?”

You laughed as Benedict smacked the back of Colin’s head but stopped when Eloise slumped down in her seat. You tapped her on the shoulder, making her perk up again. Your hand rested on Benedict’s thigh so you could prop yourself up as you leaned over him.

Covering your mouth and Eloise’s ear, you began whispering to your friend everything you thought she needed to know about sex. Unable to help himself, Benedict leaned in to spy, surprised that your information was actually correct. You weren’t lying, the Princess’ court really taught all the valets everything. Eloise sat back, finally satisfied and a lot less worried about a spontaneous pregnancy. Until she became curious again.

“But why would anyone want to initiate it? Who wants to be with child?”

You leaned over once again. “No one wants to be with child. Even those who want children. It’s about the pleasure. Sometimes the pleasure of actually liking someone and other times the pleasure being about nothing but you.”

“What?”

“The… think about when you start breathing a bit heavier, feeling warm when you touch each other, a… I’ll tell you the rest when your brothers aren’t here. It is a bit awkward. Oh, I’ll even draw you pictures. Only a certain amount of posit— mov— steps are important. The rest you should figure out with your husband.”

“So you do truly know what you’re talking about?” Benedict interrupted the nearly finished meeting.

“Did you doubt me?”

“A bit,” he admitted.

You sat back down. “Men aren’t the only ones that know what they are talking about.”

“Sorry to offend.”

“No offense. None at all. I expect even the kindest and smartest and prudest of men to think such things.”

“Well, I am still sorry. If not because of offense then because of my ignorance.”

You squeezed his thigh in appreciation. Benedict laid his hand on top of yours. The two of you stayed like that for a moment until his hand held onto yours a bit tighter. He turned to look at you. There was an understanding shared between your eyes. There was no breathing heavy or loving eyes. It was for both of you but in purely selfish pleasurable ways.

“Are you coming to watch our fencing match?” Benedict asked.

“Yes.” At that he moved your hand closer to his private. “A bit after the calling hour starts. I like to watch the men make fools of themselves.”

“I am not surprised by that at all.”

“Shall we wait for you?”

You closed the gap and placed your hand over the top of Benedict’s pants. “No. You may start without me and I’ll just come when I find the time.”

“Okay. We’ll play again soon, maybe even another game today. So don’t be too bothered if you miss us playing for your calling hour.”

Giving an experimental squeeze, you watched the man next to you nod ever so slightly and swallow his spit before moving your hand himself. You both relaxed into the couch completely, satisfied with your understanding. The two men left when Violet came back — it was fairly obvious that calling hour was about to start. The calling hour was several hours but at some point you had just dropped the s and you weren’t sure why.

You thought it would be only one or two men but the duke seemed to have lit a fire under the other men’s feet. The line became rather long rather quickly. You were happy for Daphne. The more men the better. Maybe she could get a love match.

You took the last bouquet of flowers for Daphne, thanked Lord Colfield, and went to go put the flowers in a vase on the fireplace mantle. You were about to tell Daphne that you were leaving to see her brothers’ fencing match when Anthony came storming in. A gasp escaped you when Nigel Berbrooke came up behind. You were completely over this little man and his obsession.

Without thinking, you approached Anthony. “What do you think you ar— Anthony, you and Nigel need to either leave the drawing room as this is your sister’s calling hour or wait in line if he is here to call? These lords and gentlemen have waited a great deal to talk to her and they are very patient. It is not right nor just nor of any class to disrespect the patience they have shown.”

“Nigel?” Berbrooke scoffed. “Who do think yo—”

“The Young Princess’ valet. She’s become a family friend,” Anthony cut Nigel off.

At least Berbrooke had the decency to be surprised and then give you a bow. Their tunes towards you changed completely as they almost looked like they were going to wait their turn or just leave. Nigel smiled.

“Callers were unexpected as we have already been talking extensively.”

“Lord Berbrooke is the only man who proposed and therefore the only person I consider.”

“I’m sorry, what?” You looked at Anthony.

“He is the on—”

“Everyone! I am very sorry but you must leave. Miss Bridgerton’s calling hour is currently closed. Please leave your name with Heroldt, starting with the order you have been waiting, and two days from now we will continue.” You turned to Anthony as everyone filed out without complaint since they thought the princess was the reason for calling hour being over. “There. Now, Lord Berbrooke, I must speak with the Bridgertons alone. I hope that speech staved off the wolves for you if only for two days while matters are discussed.”

“Thank you, Lady…”

“Miss Keaton,” Anthony answered. “Thank you, Bergamot. Lord Berbrooke, do you need me to escort you?”

“No, no. You have business. I can find the front door on my own.”

The moment he left, you, Daphne, and Violet descended on Anthony. Every word that came out of Anthony’s mouth made you scoff. Violet looked between all three of you, very upset. Anthony was ruining both Daphne’s prospects as well as his own prospects with the princess. And you were there to witness it all.

You backed Daphne on everything. Even if she was wrong, Nigel was a foul man that you would never allow to marry. You approached Anthony, speaking lowly although your friend and her mother could still hear it.

“I hope you survive whatever poison you are drinking. Whether the Duke is a serious man or not, there are plenty of serious men here. You will not sign away your sister to such a foul man that you barely know as well and pretend it is in her best interest. And you will not expect her to be understanding or appreciative when you don’t care an ounce for your sister’s happiness. And you still wish to draw up a marriage contract? Please, just think for a moment… Good day, Viscount Bridgerton.”

You stormed out of the drawing room and straight into the backyard where Colin and Benedict were handing their fencing gear back to a servant. They noticed the furrow in your brow. Benedict clicked his tongue.

“I will find out what is wrong. You, brother, instruct the kitchen to leave something out for us. If there is crying then we will be long.”

Benedict practically dragged you to the far side of the backyard. He knew no one would think anything of it when you were very angry about something Anthony did — that part was loud enough for everyone to hear. He looked at you when the two of you finally stopped.

“Was that a ploy to get away? Or are you genuinely mad at my brother?”

“I don’t want to talk about why I’m mad at Anthony. There’s nothing you can do anyway. Not without a good scandal… Sorry, I came out here for a fencing match. Let us focus on it. On you.”

He took your hand again, placing it over his trousers. You began to rub it back and forth, the fabric between you guys creating friction. You reached into his pants and pulled out his cock, stroking it a bit more freely. Benedict pulled you closer. His hand reached around your ass to squeeze it.

Every time you stroked him closer to finishing he would squeeze harder than before. You watched his face the entire time. If you got back exactly what you were giving him then you would be a very happy woman. It was truly going to be about selfish pleasure for both of you.

You gasped when he all but ripped the top part of the dress as he tried to push it all down to expose your breasts. He wanted something else to stare at that would get him off even quicker. You tried to stifle any moans threatening to escape your lips as he groped you — some of the marks so hard you were sure they would be a bit red until tomorrow. This was his turn. Yours would be later. If you both tried to get pleasure at the same time... Well, that's how people fall in love. The two of you weren't stupid to test that.

Benedict moaned and for a moment both of you were worried someone would come see what was the matter. He laughed underneath your hand covering his mouth.

A shudder went through him and he grabbed your wrist. “I’m going to come. I-if you let g-go… just in m-my britches.”

You dropped to your knees, shocking your friend. He grabbed your head with one hand while he bit down on the other until he finished. A very gentle touch lifted you up. He wiped stray bits of lipstick from around your mouth, wiping the evidence away on the inside of his vest.

“I have to say I did not expect you to sit down for the last round of fencing. We were done anyway.”

“Well, I wanted to help put up the equipment so we could all relax later. Plus, if the princess does choose to invite you all to Kew then I would like you to help put up the equipment there too.”

Benedict laughed.

“I promise whether I win or lose. The next time we have a round of fencing, I will put up the equipment. All of it.”

He leaned down to whisper.

“Even if you are not a lover, I would never have you on the ground, sullying your pretty gowns and body..." He squeezed your breasts one last time before helping pull your dress back up. "with grass and dirt stains. I promise I’ll bring you your pleasure next time we are inside and alone. I will leave first and retire to my room. You stay out here and eat the sandwiches the cook left. I won’t be able to return for at least an hour.”

“Okay. I have to go see the Featheringtons and Miss Thompson anyway.”

You did just as Benedict suggested and no one even gave you a suspicious look. You took your own sweet time going across the street. You had moved the physician and all of Wednesdays special tutors to Tuesdays so you would have more time in the city. Despite not wanting any visitors, you were the obvious exception and could go upstairs to see Marina. She looked up from her writing desk when Penelope announced she was coming with a visitor.

The three of you gathered on the bed to share a plate of sweets. You mainly listened to Marina and Penelope, not having much to add. You wanted to figure out a way to help her. Trying to meddle in daily affairs and save the lives of one subject at a time seemed almost ridiculous. But, that was what you should do as a royal.

“Did you say Spain?”

“Yes. That’s where all of George’s letters are coming from at the moment. They all say Spain.”

“If you ever need a letter to Spain or to anywhere else they send Sir George, just let me know. The princess wants to help her subjects, especially women, so give me a letter and I’ll give it to her. Whenever you need.”

Marina flung herself at you. “Thank you. If there shall ever be a problem, I promise I will say such.”

“Oh, the princess is going back to the palace for a few weeks because of something important so I won’t be so available for a little bit.”

“What will she be there for?”

“You will find out when it happens.”

The two of them giggled. “You are so mysterious.”

You were tired after an exhausting day but a letter you received from a footman that same day made you get up. Anthony had given you a key to the front and back garden gates as well as the back door that led into the kitchen. You entered through the backyard so you could actually get inside the house without waking the entire house with your knocking. You only needed Violet and Daphne. And you had a letter to leave just in case you couldn’t wake a single person.

Voices made you pause. You recognized Eloise and Benedict talking. Instead of going any further, you just listened. Eloise — like so many other women — wanted better for herself. It had never been a question of something you would plead to your brother… You sighed. You knew your brother. It was time to stop thinking of him as the heir. There was a reason everyone was going to support Younger Charlotte’s claim over her father. And Young Charlotte listened to you. She planned on making you her advisor. There would be no pleading. You would make better laws for women.

You didn’t want to disturb them too much so you flung the letter at Benedict’s head. Running as fast as you could, you ignored their confused calling out for you once they recognized the letter coming from the princess. Hopefully, Benedict or Eloise would get the letter to their mother before Nigel could come back.

Dear Dowager Viscountess,

I am nothing but my mother’s daughter and therefore it is, in fact, my job to meddle in the lives of our precious subjects for a better and more peaceful United Kingdom. Miss Keaton has told me much of your troubles in regards to a man called Lord Nigel Berbrooke. I don’t have much information on him but I do have a request that I would ask you to aid your princess in.

I recall an acquaintance of his. A maid. She used to work at the palace but asked for a job in the ton so she could be closer to her aging parents. I believe she was employed by a neighbor of the Berbrookes? Or a friend? Or maybe them, who knows. She was supposed to come back two years after they died but has yet to return. Nigel or one of his neighbors must know. Or perhaps, his mother, she’s very close to the maids. Knows every single one of them by name. I care terribly for this maid and would like her working back at the palace.

Please meet with his mother. She loves crumpets with any sort of preserves or a chocolate dipping sauce. It was all she wanted when she requested a meeting with my second brother.

That is all I have to say. I do look forward to seeing your family properly.

Yours Truly,

Princess Y/N Kew

P.S. Please tell Anthony that it took him long enough but I am proud he finally came to his senses. If only he can learn to listen to a woman first then he might have less problems.

You smiled to yourself as you sat in the kitchens. The staff couldn’t stop talking about Nigel Berbrooke’s bastard that he doesn’t take care of and the mother he sent away before she even gave birth. You would feel bad but you had a very personal and up-close view of the man’s real personality. The morning only got better when Brimsley and Reynolds came in with Lady Whistledown’s Society Papers. It was on the front page of the pamphlets. Absolutely worth paying the two pounds per pamphlet for everyone in the Kew household.

“Do you think he’ll ever show his face again?”

“No,” the cook said as she handed you your breakfast. “You did a good thing for Miss Bridgerton, Your Grace.”

“Your Grace?”

“It is just a title we are trying out.”

You hummed suspiciously. The cook ignored you.

“You better pack if you don’t want to be late for the carriage coming today.”

You nearly forgot. The reason you couldn’t hang out with the Featheringtons and the Bridgertons arrived. Your cousin Friedrich, the prince of Prussia, was coming for a visit. He agreed to marry a British girl to strengthen the alliances and prove that Prussia and Britain were still close family. It was neither a complete truth or a complete lie. The entire family was not close. But you, your cousin, your father, your mother, and your aunt were very close.

Sneaking out wasn’t an option. You thought that much as the carriage neared Buckingham. It had been a while since you snuck out the palace — a completely different thing from simply leaving Kew. Pandora, Brimsley, or Reynolds would sneak you your letters and you would be satisfied. Besides, even though your family was coming for an indefinite amount of time, you only had to stay a week or to.

The carriage hadn’t even stopped completely before you ran to hug your cousin. It had been years since you last saw each other. You could hear your mothers laughing in the background. They left to have tea inside while the two of you stayed out.

Friedrich took your hand in the crook of his arm. “Come, cousin, let us take a promenade. Have you been well?”

“I have been better. However, I am doing well.”

“And your illness?”

“Not better. But I haven’t had an episode that I couldn't recover from on my own.”

“That is good. I suppose that is the best we can ask for. Especially since I have a surprise for you.”

“A surprise?”

“I asked Aunt Charlotte and she agreed to let the princess accompany me to events as she knows the ton better than the both of us. You have to wear your mask but it is still a good deal.”

“It is a wonderful deal.”

“Good. The first event is a ball tonight.”

“Tonight?! But I’m not prepared.”

“I’ve already had everything arranged.”

“You planned this?”

“I figured it would do you good to get some fresh air and get out of the palace… or Kew, now.”

“Thank you, Friedrich. Seriously, thank you.”

(part 5)

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ma-yawntu · 20 hours

Text

mine, all mine. iv.

chapter four: divine

pairing: neteyam x female!metkayina!reader

summary: Being the oldest daughter of the Olo'eytkan and the tsakarem meant you had a lot of weight on your shoulders. You had to be perfect, well-behaved and set an example for your clan, so sneaking out wasn't exactly checking any of those boxes. You had to pick a mate and honestly you couldn't think of anything worse– and to you, he was no exception.

word count: 3.9k

warnings: punching, blood, injury, lil surpriiiise, like one swear word

now playing... learning 037 by sandy crow

series masterlist

“Eyes,” you made the sign for eyes with your fingers, watching Kiri make the sign effortlessly back to you while Lo’ak and Neteyam fiddled with their fingers before clumsily copying your sign. “Good,” you smiled before moving onto the next sign, “now, this one is ears.”

You had been teaching the siblings sign language for the past few days, helping them with very basic signs to help them communicate important information while underwater. Kiri seemed to get the hang of it rather quickly while Neteyam and Lo’ak seemed to struggle, the two of them staring intensely at their own hands as they attempted to copy you.

“What is the sign for ‘beautiful’?” Lo’ak asked, Kiri and Neteyam snickering to themselves. Lo’ak looked at his siblings with an offended expression, “I was just asking."

“It’s okay, Lo’ak,” you chuckled before showing him the sign. “You… Are… Beautiful,” you signed slowly, letting him copy your movements. You knew the boy had a crush on your sister because she was crushing just as hard on him, talking your ear off every night about him until you fell asleep. You found it cute at first until she found any and every chance to talk about him. You felt like you knew him more than he knew you.

“You… Are… Beautiful,” Lo’ak copied, mumbling the words to himself. You laughed softly, reaching over to fix his finger and hand placement. Neteyam watched you correct his brother, wondering if he should mess up every now and then so you’d correct him too.

The four of you sat on the beach, the waves gently caressing the shoreline as the sun began to set. The Sully family had been staying in your village for almost a month, all of them getting much better with their free diving and breathing, though you had very little to correct with Kiri, she was doing remarkably well for a Na’vi who grew up in the forest.

You were almost thankful for the arrival of Jake Sully and his family– while you were disappointed you weren’t able to train with Teyoa as much anymore, their sudden arrival had made it difficult for your parents to arrange as many meals with possible mates and their families. You had the odd one here and there, but teaching the forest Na’vi the way of water had occupied a lot of your time and to you, it felt like time well spent.

“Have you been practising your breathing?” You asked Neteyam as the two of you swam toward the middle of the reef. Tsireya had taken Kiri and Tuk with her to show them how to use the txampaysye [Gill Mantle] to their advantage while underwater, while you decided to spring a challenge on Neteyam since he’d promised to practise his breathing.

“Yes,” he replied, trying to catch up with you as you used your tail to push you through the water. “I think I’m the only one of my siblings that actually practises.”

“We’ll see about that,” you sang, rolling onto your back as you swam toward the deepest part of the reef, the bioluminescent water glowing with your movements. Neteyam watched you sway through the water, mesmerised by your comfort in the water around you. “I want you to catch this,” his attention snapped back to your voice, watching as you held up a small glowing shell.

“Catch it?” He asked curiously.

You smiled cheekily before throwing it a few metres away from you, he watched you do it before he looked at you again, eyes blown wide, “catch it,” you nodded.

Neteyam stared at you in disbelief, “how am I supposed to–”

“It’s getting awfully far away, Neteyam,” you teased, pursing your lips.

Neteyam sucked in a long breath before diving down after it, doing his best to keep his eyes trained on the tiny glowing shell that just seemed to get further and further away the closer he got. The reef glowed brightly with different hues of blue, green and purple as he swam straight down, his hand reaching out and barely grazing the shell. He let out a small frustrated huff, bubble bobbing to the surface as you watched from above with a stupid grin on your face.

He finally wrapped his fingers around the shell, his ears sore from the pressure of being so deep in the reef. Neteyam quickly looked up, smiling to himself at seeing you floating above, watching him intently. He pushed off the plush sand, quickly rising to the surface with the shell tucked in his grasp. His chest was hurting from the lack of oxygen and when he finally surfaced, he took in a deep breath, panting slightly.

“I got it,” he beamed, showing you the shell.

You smiled, reaching out to grasp his wrist, “see? I knew you could do it,” you laughed, his skin suddenly feeling hot from you touching him. You were easily one of the most beautiful girls in the village, he understood why you were so sought after by the village boys but you seemed to be disinterested in them, it made him wonder if you’d ever consider him.

“Did you really have faith in me or was it a shot in the dark?” He asked curiously.

“A shot… in the dark?” You repeated, unfamiliar with the phrase.

“Right, I forget other people don’t know human phrases,” Neteyam laughed. You almost forgot his dad used to be one of the Sky People but then Lo’ak or Tuk would say or do something strange that would remind you of the fact. “It means to… to guess, you know?”

“Oh, I see,” you laughed, “No, it was not a shot in the dark, I had complete faith in your ability,” you retorted as you began swimming toward the shore. It was starting to get late, with the majority of the village either gathered at the beach for their meal or sleeping.

Neteyam fiddled with the shell in his hand as the two of you walked down the beach. You had a habit of walking him home, he never pointed it out, wondering if you noticed your habit yourself or if you just liked talking to him– he’d like to think you were just too lost in the conversation to notice.

You had warmed up to Neteyam a lot, you admit that you found him and his siblings a little annoying at first, only because you didn’t want to have to babysit them on top of tending to your own duties as the tsakarem, but you found them to be good company. You even enjoyed spending time with Neteyam, almost a little too much. Most of the men in the clan that attempted to court you didn’t seem interested in you, only interested in being the leader of the clan. They brought you gifts that you didn’t even like and only talked about themselves. But Neteyam– he was different. He seemed interested in getting to know you– something you’d never experienced before.

“What do your tattoos mean?” Neteyam asked curiously, eyeing the intricate art that adorned your ribs. You looked at him and he quickly clarified, “I just see a lot of people with tattoos on their arms, chest and face but I haven’t seen any like yours.”

You smiled at his nervousness before you spoke, recalling the story, “when I was born, I wasn’t breathing. Metkayina are born in the water and it’s tradition that we swim to take our first breath. But I did not move and I wasn’t breathing,” you said softly, reaching up to play with your hair. “But after a while, I was able to breathe on my own… My mother always told me that Eywa gave me a second chance.”

Neteyam listened to you intently, unable to take his eyes off you as you spoke, “when you get tattoos after your Iknimaya, they chronicle your life. And for me, I was given tattoos on my ribs as a way to signify the breath I was given by Eywa,” you laughed softly at the last part, recalling the story your mother told you again and again. “Silly, right?”

“Not at all,” Neteyam replied honestly, if anything, he thought that was a beautiful way to honour the life you were given.

“I think that’s why my parents expect a lot from me,” you shrugged, “they just want me to live up to my ‘potential’,” you said the last part sarcastically, laughing to yourself.

Judging by the way you said it, Neteyam thought you didn’t think you’d lived up to your parents expectations. “You don’t think you have?” Neteyam asked.

“Not in the way they want,” you replied. “They want me to be the Tsahik, be a good healer but– I don’t think it’s what I’m made for.”

“What are you made for?” Neteyam asked gently, eyes never leaving you.

You paused, Neteyam stopping beside you, “I’m not sure.”

You stood in the shallow water by the shore, plucking ripe fruits from the soft sand. Neteyam’s question had been haunting you since the night before– you felt like you were having a crisis thinking about what it was you wanted for your life, why Eywa kept you alive. You wanted so badly to be a warrior, but you knew your parents would never allow it, wanting to keep their oldest daughter safe. You understood why, you really did, but it didn’t make it any less hard.

Your ears perked up at the sound of commotion behind you. You stood up from your spot in the shallow water, watching as your brother and his friends picked on Kiri. You frowned, dropping your woven bag of fruits on the sand with your blade, watching the scene for a moment. You couldn’t hear what they were saying but the moment Ao’nung tugged on Kiri’s arm, you cursed under your breath and started stomping up the sand.

“Back off, fish lips!” Lo’ak got there first, emerging from the village as you moved up the sand bank.

“Oh! Another four-fingered freak,” Ao’nung teased. Eywa, he was such a jerk sometimes.

“Look at his little baby tail!” You hadn’t even bothered to learn half of Ao’nung’s friends' names. One of them pulled on Lo’ak’s tail, starting to piss you off. Lo’ak shoved him away, your brother attempting to shove Lo’ak back.

“Leave us alone!” Kiri shouted, standing off to the side, not wanting to involve herself but still attempting to break up what was inevitably going to be a fight.

No one seemed to notice your angry surge toward them, too busy trying to get under each other’s skin as Kiri watched on, unable to do much else. But they were quick to notice your presence when you pulled on Lo’ak’s arm, effectively pulling him behind you to shield him from your brother’s antics. You planted your hand flat on Ao’nung’s chest, pushing him back.

“Leave it alone,” you said lowly, staring daggers up at your brother.

“Uh oh, big sister’s here–” Ao’nung held up his arm, silencing his friend behind him. Lo’ak and Kiri stood behind you with bated breath, watching you diffuse the situation.

“What is going on?” Neteyam’s voice almost surprised you, Ao’nung’s friends briefly turning their attention to the oldest forest Na’vi brother but your own brother didn’t take his angry eyes off you, trying to intimidate you.

“We were just leaving,” you said, giving one last push to Ao’nung’s chest before you turned around, placing your hand gently on Kiri’s back as you guided her away from the beach. Neteyam and Lo’ak hesitated for a moment before following behind you.

“You sure you want to hang out with these freaks?” Ao’nung called behind you. Lo’ak and Neteyam quickly whipped their heads around, Lo’ak quick to march back down to your brother, standing chest to chest with him.

“Hey! No, Lo’ak, don’t,” Neteyam urged, trying to push his brother back. You kept your hand on Kiri’s back, your breath hitched in your throat as you watched.

“You want to see something real cool?” Lo’ak tilted his head sarcastically.

Neteyam gritted his teeth, “Lo’ak–”

“I mean, I know it’s weird, huh?” Lo’ak wiggled his pinky in Ao’nung’s face. “I am a freak; an alien. But watch–” Lo’ak balled his hand up tight, “first you do this, then–”

Lo’ak quickly swung at your brother, once, twice, knocking him flat on his ass. Ao’nung’s eyes widened in disbelief, “don’t ever touch my sister again!” Ao’nung got up, quickly slamming his body into Lo’ak’s, the two of them tumbling into the sand.

You watched as Neteyam laughed for a moment as his brother rolled around in the sand with Ao’nung and his friends, blindly throwing punches. You almost groaned when Neteyam scratched the back of his head, his shoulders shrugging as he went to join in, “Neteyam, don’t– and there he goes.”

“This is so stupid!” Kiri yelled, groaning in disbelief.

“Ao’nung!” you shouted, grunting angrily before you surged forward, yanking on your brother’s tail from where he straddled Lo’ak, trying to throw a punch at him. You dragged him across the sand but you were quickly knocked to the side as one of Ao’nung’s friends tackled Neteyam, pinning his legs down and throwing a punch at his face, splitting his lip.

You quickly stood up, “get off him!” you shouted, yanking on his kuru and punching him square in the face. The chaos subsided, Kiri gasping and throwing her hands over her mouth as Ao’nung’s friend stumbled back off Neteyam, clutching his bleeding nose and letting out a cry.

“What the hell,” everyone comically turned to look at the source of the voice, Jake Sully standing there and taking in the bruised and bloodied faces of his kids and more terrifying– the Olo’eyktan’s kids.

“Shiiit,” Lo’ak cursed.

Your mother arrived shortly after Jake, ordering Ao’nung’s friends to go see the healers while she dragged your brother to his feet by his kuru and grabbed the back of your neck tightly, holding the two of you as your father came storming down the beach. Jake spoke quietly to Lo’ak and Neteyam, though his voice was stern, Lo’ak staring at the ground while Neteyam huffed, seeming ashamed.

Jake grabbed his sons harshly by their shoulders, forcing them to stand in front of the Olo’eyktan, Neteyam and Lo’ak standing beside you. Your father directed his attention toward Jake for a moment before looking over his sons. Neteyam’s lip was split, a bruise blooming over his chest while Lo’ak had a bruise forming on his cheek and a split in his brow from where Ao’nung had thrown a punch.

“Why are our children bleeding?” Your father questioned loudly, your ears pinning back at the sound.

“Tell your father what happened,” Ronal ordered, pushing you and your brother forward. Ao’nung hung his head, seemingly able to close his big fat mouth for once.

“It is my fault,” you stepped forward, feeling Neteyam, Lo’ak, Ao’nung and Jake look at you.

“I do not believe this,” your mother scoffed, swatting the back of your head.

“It is true, father,” you sighed, looking up at your dad who had his jaw clenched as he looked down at you, unsure if he believed a word you were saying. “I threw the first punch.” You massaged your bruised hand from where you had rather harshly punched Ao’nung’s friend in the face.

“This is improper, child,” your father whispered harshly, “they are guests here, we do not do this–”

Neteyam and Lo’ak’s brows knitted together, your father believing you had hurt them when you were simply defending them and their sister. You were always getting your stupid brother out of trouble, he was going to owe you big time for this one, “it will not happen again, father.”

“Sir,” Neteyam stepped forward with his hands raised, Jake attempting to silence his son by grabbing at his shoulder. “This is not her doing–”

“Please, Neteyam,” you sighed, your hand wrapping around his arm.

“It is not right,” Neteyam looked at you, his golden eyes filled with such worry. He stared at you for a moment longer before glancing at your father, “she was defending me, sir. My brother and I…” he paused for a moment, choosing his words carefully, “It was my fault.”

Tonowari stared at Neteyam for a moment before looking at you, your hand squeezing Neteyam’s arm gently, your silent plea for him to take back what he said and let you take the blame– it would be easier for everyone. Tonowari looked to his mate and Ronal slowly shook her head, not believing that either of you were to blame for what happened.

“Fix him up,” your father ordered. You looked up at him and he quickly flicked his head toward the village. You bowed your head, your hand slipping down Neteyam’s arm to grasp his large hand, pulling him toward the village. As you walked in silence, you couldn’t help but note the roughness of his hands, feeling the calluses forming at the base of his fingers from his years of climbing and hunting in the forest.

“Why did you take the blame?” Neteyam asked as you ushered him into the healing marui. You pushed him to sit down, quickly moving to find the things you needed to clean the cut on his lip and tend to the bruise on his chest and jaw.

“It is easier,” you huffed, “I have a way with my father, he would have let me off easy. I was trying to do what is best for my brother and for your family, Neteyam,” you didn’t mean for it to sound as harsh as it did.

“But what about what is best for you?” he asked, confused by your thinking. You grabbed some cloth and salves from your mothers collection, ignoring Neteyam’s question as you moved around the marui with urgency– you were frustrated and angry; annoyed that your brother keeps getting himself into trouble, annoyed that he won’t take accountability when he does something wrong, and annoyed that Neteyam wouldn’t let you just take the blame for it.

Neteyam grabbed your wrist gently, stopping your angry pacing. Your chest was heavy, rising and falling rapidly as you tried to just breathe through your anger, “this is not about what I want,” you muttered, feeling hot tears forming in your eyes.

“It was not fair,” he replied softly as you wiped a tear from your cheek. “I…” he watched you for a moment, his heart aching at the sight of your tears, he stood up, gently resting a hand on your shoulder as he glanced at the side of your face, “please, do not cry.”

You sniffled softly, wiping your face with the back of your hand before turning to him with your salves, some water and a cloth, “I am fine,” you mumbled, “sit down, I’ll fix the cut on your lip.”

Neteyam hesitantly sat down, face still etched with worry as you got to work, gently rubbing an ointment into his chest over the purple bruise. It looked like it hurt, yet he was more concerned about you and your crying. You could feel his eyes on you as you worked, doing your best to ignore his breathtaking eyes as you cleaned the dried blood and sand from his chest and shoulders.

“Your hand,” Neteyam whispered. You paused for a moment before looking at your knuckles decorated with purple bruises.

“It’s okay, it doesn’t hurt,” you whispered back, grabbing at Neteyam’s jaw to inspect the cut on his lip. Neteyam was much taller than you, his lean figure towering over you when you both stood together, but even when he was sitting he was only mere inches shorter.

You felt Neteyam’s hand wrap around your wrist with the bruised knuckles, pulling it away from his face to look at it. While he has no real healing experience, leaving that to his grandmother and sister, he still wanted to make sure you were okay. He stared at your bruises with such worry, as if he wasn’t literally bleeding in front of you.

You used your other hand to tip his jaw back to look at you, finally catching his eyes, “Neteyam, I promise you, I am fine. You are the one that is bleeding.”

Neteyam huffed out a sigh, “yes, I know but–”

You gently put your hand over his mouth to shut him up, laughing softly, “I sneak out to train with one of the warriors in the village. That is why my punishment is looking out for you and your siblings,” you whispered, his eyes staring so intently at you, “I have broken my own nose trying to use a spear on a bag of sand, this–,” you lifted your hand, “–is nothing.”

You pulled your hand away from his mouth, reaching for your wet cloth to begin cleaning the blood off his slightly swollen lip. Neteyam stared at you fondly, pondering your confession, “you broke your own nose using a spear?”

“Do not ask,” you shook your head, laughing softly. You fell into a comfortable silence as you gently cleaned Neteyam’s face, your hand gently cradling his jaw. You noticed how he stared at you, a little smile tugging at his lips. You felt your face heat under his gaze, laughing nervously, “what?”

“You are beautiful,” he breathed, voice barely above a whisper. You felt your eyes widen, never having been complimented with such sincerity. You paused your movements, unable to function for a moment. Neteyam stood slowly, his head craning to look at you. He swore your eyes were the most beautiful he had ever seen, dazzling and bright, matching the colour of the crystal clear reefs your clan held dear. He slowly brought his hand up to cup your jaw, your breath hitching in your throat. “May… May I kiss you?”

You felt your eyes widen a fraction, your lips parting as a nervous breath squeezed past. You didn’t know what to do or to say, you had never been this close to anyone before, especially a boy you had grown to enjoy the company of. A smile tugged at your lips as Neteyam’s eyes flickered from your lips back to your eyes, “I… I think I would like that,” you whispered.

Neteyam’s smile was unmatched. You could feel his breath fanning over your face as he leaned in closer, your eyes instinctively fluttering shut– taking in the delightful silence around you, only listening to the sound of his breathing and the beating of your own heart.

You felt your heart begin to race as his lips grazed yours and–

“Sister! Are you okay, I heard from– Oh.” You and Neteyam leapt away from each other, you quickly coughed awkwardly while Neteyam tried to look like was doing something other than what your sister just caught you doing. “I’m– I’m sorry, I’ll uh, I’ll come back later,” Tsireya smiled awkwardly, bumping into a table in the marui then finally finding the doorway and leaving.

You quickly turned to Neteyam, “I should… I should go check on her,” you said awkwardly.

Neteyam scratched the back of his neck, “yeah, of course. I should go see my parents anyway– hope they haven’t skinned my brother yet–”

“Right, yeah,” you said sheepishly. The two of you stood there staring at each other for a moment before you bowed your head, your lips forming a tight line as you scooted past him toward the doorway. Way to ruin a moment, Reya.

You paused in the doorway, wanting to give him something before you left. You quickly turned back, his eyes wide as you approached him again. You stood up on your tiptoes, one hand gently holding his face as you planted a kiss to his cheek. You didn’t wait for him to react before you bowed your head and left, determined to find your sister before she babbled.

a/n: damn, so close

taglist: @s0urw00lf, @peqch-pie, @greatsstuffsposts, @lavzxx, @quaint-and-curious-being

#avatar #atwow #avatar way of water #avatar x reader #atwow x reader #avatar the way of water x reader #neteyam #neteyam x reader #ao'nung #kiri #lo'ak #jake sully #neytiri #ronal #tonowari #tsireya #tuktirey #tuk

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pennylanefics · 1 day

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Tree House - Seth Jarvis

a/n: this turned out so much longer than i was expecting but ahhhh i love it!! it's so soft and some parts hurt my heart, and i finished it at like 1:40 in the morning when i needed to be sleeping but oh well !!

summary: seth takes you back to winnipeg for a visit and you come across an old tree house he spent a lot of time in

word count: ~2.3k

Ever since you first started dating, Seth wanted to take you back to Winnipeg with him for a week, just to show you where he grew up and the places frequented up until he was drafted. It was a dream of his to be able to share that side of him with you, and finally, the time had come.

With the offseason just starting, and in the only bit of free time that he had until he had to start practice every few days, he booked a trip up to Canada, renting out a nice little Airbnb in a location he knows pretty well, that’s slightly secluded with a beautiful view of the mountains in the distance.

He had the entire trip planned, even down to where you’d be having dinner each day, one of which he was taking you to his parents house, since his mom wanted to cook for you, and a couple days you would be going to his favorite restaurants; other days included ordering in and having a romantic date night inside.

It was a smooth trip so far, the flight was longer than you were expecting, Seth let you sleep on his shoulder for a majority of it, but when you finally landed, you were in awe of the sights already.

It was a country you’ve always wanted to visit, and now, you were right in the heart of Winnipeg, your boyfriend’s hometown, which made it all the more special.

“That over there is where I was skateboarding with some friends and wiped out. Got a nasty scrape on my elbow,” Seth points out to a spot in the middle of a park. He had ordered an uber to drive you to his parents house, who would then drive you out to your rental for the week.

They offered you to stay with them, but Seth was insistent on having time with you, alone, something he didn’t really want to tell his own mother. So he played it off as best as he could without being too over-the-top, basically explaining the simple version, that you were on a vacation together and wanted a space to yourselves.

When you arrive at his family’s house, his mother welcomes you in with open arms, asking how your flight was and wondering if you needed anything. You’ve met her plenty of times already, but this was a first, to be meeting her at her home; it felt different, but a good different.

After lots of conversations and catching up between the five of you, his dad loads your suitcases into their car, Seth’s brother hopping in his own and following behind; since you were borrowing their car for the week, his dad would need a ride back

A couple hours later, you and Seth have finally settled into bed, a movie playing in the background on the tv, but neither of you paying a single ounce of attention to it.

“What kind of plans do you have for us tomorrow, huh?” You ask, tracing your finger along his bare chest. He laughs softly and trails his own hand up and down your back.

“I thought we could do some sightseeing, you know, driving around to see my old schools, the rink I used to play at, maybe even pay the kids there a visit.”

“That sounds lovely,” you sigh.

“And I’m gonna take you to my favorite restaurant I always have to eat at when I’m back home,” he adds. “So we’ll go there for lunch after we wake up, and then drive around. There’s not really a ton to do, but it’s beautiful.”

“It has been so far, I can imagine what it’s like during the winter.”

“Gorgeous. Maybe we’ll come back for Christmas, it’s a magical place around then.”

You continue talking until you end up falling asleep before Seth, who remains awake, scrolling through his phone, his usual night owl tendencies not changing one bit.

The following day, after having a lovely lunch at Seth’s favorite restaurant, which you very much enjoyed, Seth exits the parking lot and starts driving around, knowing the area like the back of his hand, navigating so easily.

“So, over there,” he points to a small ice cream shop, “is where I was punched by some kid in seventh grade. He was saying all kinds of shit about me and my friends, so I stepped up, and he ended up socking me. The owner of the shop banned him for life from the premises, it was really fun to watch.”

“Oh god,” you laugh, looking at the shop a little closer now that you are stopped at a red light near it. “Is it any good?”

“They’re the best, they have the smoothest concretes. We’ll go there later today. Right now, we’re gonna head to the rink and surprise some kids. I hope that’s alright,” he looks over at you, a hint of worry evident in his tone and his expression.

“Yeah, it is. I can skate around for a little bit on my own while you teach them your great wisdom and knowledge.” Seth laughs and shakes his head, making a left turn into a parking lot.

You follow him inside and head right over to the skate rental booth, quickly getting into your own skates. Seth helps you tie yours, as he’s mastered the art of doing so, and helps you stand, walking over to where the entrance is.

Immediately, he is recognized, kids skating over to him, their eyes blown wide with shock and awe. Seth’s smile was so huge, greeting all the kids around him and giving all of them high fives. You grin a little and skate off in the opposite direction, giving him time to meet with them and allow them to pick his brain on certain things.

You make a couple trips around the rink, humming quietly to yourself to the music that was playing over the speakers not too loudly. Seth, even while talking to the kids and listening closely to them, still managed to look over at you every once in a while, wherever you were on the ice, just to make sure you were doing okay.

Deep down, he felt terrible for parting from you like this, but he always had to give back to the community that helped him get to where he was at, and he was very thankful that you were understanding of it all; in the back of his mind, he had ideas on how to make it up to you later tonight.

His little impromptu question and answer-mixed-meet and greet came to an end about an hour later, and you had been waiting in the stands for him, having left the ice halfway through, opting to read a book on your phone while the sounds of sticks smacking the ice and pucks hitting the boards filled the air.

Seth returns his skates and finds you, taking your hand and helping you up.

“Ready? I believe we have plans to find a secret spot that I haven’t visited in years,” he says, leading you out of the building and to his car.

“And where would that be?” You question, sliding into the passenger seat and buckling up.

“My old treehouse.”

He starts driving back near his house, turning into his subdivision and driving a little ways past where his house is. He comes up to the end of the street and parks on the side of the road, no houses around the space.

“Uh, are we going into the woods?” You ask, stepping out of the car and around to his side.

“Oh no. It’s just right on the edge over here. It’s not even woods, it’s just a small clearing that then leads to more houses in the back. No one owns this area, so my dad helped me and my friends build this little hideout, because we all lived on this street.”

He guides you through a little patch of trees, stopping at what appears to be a small hut in the middle of them. And he was right, because through the trees in front of you, you could clearly see another part of the subdivision, what appears to be someone’s backyard fence.

“This is where we’d come on bad days at school, or after tough losses at our games, we’d come and play video games on our DS’s, or we’d talk shit about people.”

“Ever gossip about girls you liked?” You nudge him playfully, and his face turns red, giving his answer away instantly, even if he tried to lie.

“We were boys, of course we were going to talk about that kinda stuff.” A gleeful laugh escapes your lips as Seth steps inside, sitting down on the ground. He pulls you down to sit between his legs, your back resting against his chest, his arms around your midsection and holding your hands in his.

“I tried not to be out here at night because it scared me, but some days, when I needed to get away from everything and everyone, I’d come here.” His tone was very soft and reminiscent of his childhood safe space. Looking around, you notice a ton of writing on the walls and ceiling, getting lost in all of the print from him and his friends.

“It seems like a great place to clear your mind,” you comment, chuckling as you find Seth’s large handwriting on the ceiling. Upon realizing what it says, your heart soars and you smile widely, feeling proud of your lover.

In his handwriting, it reads, ‘I will be in the NHL one day’. He sees you reading it and looks up with you, sighing a little.

“We all wrote our dreams up there. Mine was to be in the NHL, Darryl’s was to be a firefighter, Reese wanted to create a video game, and Matty wanted to become an FBI agent.” Your eyes scan over the four names and wishes written around Seth’s.

“Did they all achieve what they wrote?” Your eyes flicker to his brown eyes, pausing your reading of all the silly stuff him and his friends wrote every time they were in there.

“Darryl did become a firefighter, Reese, I believe, is still in college for game development and design, as well as animation, and Matty went into the military after high school. I forget which branch, but I do know he’s been rather successful there.”

“So writing your dreams out led them to becoming real,” you state, looking back up at it. Seth was overcome with emotion, tears filling his eyes as he thinks back to the moment that he wrote that. He never once believed it would actually happen, but here he is.

“Yeah,” he chokes out, clearing his throat a little.

This was a whole new side of Seth. He’s always been the funny one, cracking jokes or flirting with you, or his friends in a playful manner, but there are times where he lets his guard down, and for some reason, being back in this space has brought back so many memories and feelings.

“I remember being in here countless days by myself, laying on the ground, staring up at the ceiling; that was the first thing we wrote in here. So every time I saw it, I would imagine what it would be like to score the game-winning goal of the Stanley Cup. Every move I would make, even thinking of players I’d dreamed of playing with, what kind of passes I would make with them. Scoring that final goal that would give us the lead and secure the win. And…now I get to live that dream every day. Well, not in the Stanley Cup, however, hopefully sometime during my career. But I still get to have those moments, just in less high-stake games.”

You listen to him as he speaks, gazing up at him as he does. He was staring straight forward, his fingers playing with yours as he speaks, a comforting action he does when he gets nervous.

“And it led me to you,” his head turns down to catch your eyes, one of his hands coming up to cradle your cheek. “Another thing I wrote on the wall was finding the love of my life.” He pauses to adjust his body a little, and you wait to settle back down in his arms. He clears his throat and prepares to open up even more once you get comfortable again.

“When my girlfriend broke up with me my junior year of high school, after two years of dating, I spent hours in here that night. My dad had to bring me dinner because I refused to leave, I didn’t want to see anyone. I cried and cried and cried, because being naive, I thought she was it for me. I wanted the whole highschool sweethearts thing, but I got a little ahead of myself. So that’s when I wrote that down, to have hope that I’d find my person and the one made for me. Because in that moment, I was broken. I didn’t want to believe in love, but I knew I couldn’t keep that mindset, I knew someone would be out there in the world, waiting for me to give my love to them.”

In the middle of speaking, he sticks his arm out and his hand lands on the words written in red, his fingers gently grazing over the rough wood permanently marked with his writing. Sitting up to get a better look at it, you see Seth’s chicken scratch, but are able to make it out just enough. ‘Find my soulmate. I know she’s out there’.

Seth’s expression changes again, his eyes filling with adoration and love for you, a small, thoughtful grin on his lips. His tongue darts out to swipe across his bottom lip, his hand returning to your face to gently caress your cheek.

“And I found her.”

taglist: @petite-potato4

#seth jarvis #seth jarvis imagines #seth jarvis x reader #seth jarvis imagine #seth jarvis fanfic #carolina hurricanes #carolina hurricanes fanfic #hockey fanfic #nhl fanfic #nhl imagines #imagines #fanfiction #fanfic

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invisible-lint · 8 hours

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Everything Could Be Okay: Chapter 1

Rhys x Tamlin's sister!reader

Summary: Tamlin has sent Feyre away. Emotions follow

Warnings: more angst. Allusions to Under the Mountain happenings, but not in much detail

Word Count: 1.2k

Prologue

You rush into the manor, hoping that you can get far enough away before the emotion churning in your chest consumes you. You couldn’t be the supportive sister you supposed Tamlin wanted you to be right now, weren’t sure you thought it was what he deserved. After all, it was his fault that the human he loved was leaving. It was his fault that you were all doomed to be taken Under the Mountain. It was his fault that Andras’ death was now for nothing. So no, you decide, he does not deserve your pity.

You manage to stumble your way into your bedroom, tears stinging in your eyes, burning your throat. You yank a pillow off the bed, burying your face into it before you scream, letting the emotion overwhelm you. You are angry, so angry that you ignore the knocking on your door. How could Tamlin do this? Sacrifice everyone and everything for his human love. Does he know how much it stings? His betrayal? That his love was enough was enough to save her. But you, your love? That was not enough to save Andras. You fling yourself onto the bed. This is where you will stay until they come to drag you all down Under the Mountain, you don’t care anymore. There’s nothing left for you to care about.

You wander the hall, ignoring the chill that hasn’t left your bones the entire time down here, no matter what you did. You didn’t sleep, finding it nearly impossible to. It had only been a few nights spent under the mountain, but already what you had seen haunted you every time you closed your eyes. You think of what Andras had said that day in the forest, about wanting to save you. If only he could see how ruined you were now. Would he be as angry with your brother as you are? You suppose, the one relief is that he is not here with you. You would not wish him here in this place even now as loneliness echoes in your soul. You aren’t thinking about where your body is taking you, only stopping as you nearly collide with the male in front of you. Your sudden stop has you nearly tipping off balance, and he reaches a hand out, steadying you. You look up at him, your own eyes meeting his violet ones.

“You shouldn’t roam by yourself at night. It’s not safe.”

“Yes, well you would know all about that, wouldn’t you, Rhysand?” you question, voice as icy as you feel.

He ignores the jab, directing you towards your room. “Allow me to escort you.”

You say nothing, following as he guides you. You say nothing as he directs you to the armchair and waves a hand, a fire springing to life in the hearth. You remain silent until he’s about to leave the room.

“Why did you leave me there?” He turns to you, eyes filled with confusion.

“The night you came to Spring and killed my father and brothers. I followed you out to the garden and begged you to either take me with you or kill me too. But you just left me there. Why?”

Your eyes meet his, filled with so much grief and pain, and he finds himself wondering what you went through before you found yourself down here. You stand, crossing to him, angry at the tears that sting your eyes.

“It would have been wrong.”

You choke out a bitter laugh. “And look at me now. I would have been better off.”

He’s not sure why he does it, but he brushes past your wards with ease, helping your troubled mind find unconsciousness, catching you as you crumple. He tucks you into bed, brushing hair back from your face and tucking it behind your ear, bringing kinder memories to the front of your mind, helping you find pleasant dreams for once.

He tries to find you again the next few nights, uncertain of why he feels so suddenly drawn to you. But he remains unlucky, as if you're avoiding him as hard as he's trying to find you.

It’s shortly after that Feyre finds her way Under the Mountain to rescue Tamlin. You aren’t sure how you feel, but there's one thing you know for certain. You will do anything within your power to help her. To make Andras’ death mean something. You find her the night after, a spare blanket and food hidden underneath your cloak. You see him again as you make your way to the cells, eyes meeting his across the distance before hurrying away.

You enter the cell and take in the sight of the human woman in front of you, holding a finger to your lips as you cross over to her, kneeling at her side, healing her. You give her the food and the blanket. She tries apologizing for Andras once more, but you shush her, shaking your head.

“You are not the one I am angry with. You are not the one who needs to apologize. I can understand why you… did what you did.” She looks almost surprised. “I will help you however I can without interfering. I will help you beat her, for Andras.” She smiles and you find yourself smiling too, the movement feeling odd after so much time.

You rush to the cells, hoping you are not too late. You enter as Rhysand exits and Feyre looks at you.

“I tried to wait for you to come. You said you would come. But a human can die so quickly from that kind of thing and I-”

You interrupt her, dropping to your knees beside her, pulling her into a tight hug, choking back a sob. “I was just worried that I was too late and you were already dead. I don’t care what bargain you made with him. It saved your life, and when we get out of here, I will face it with you. You are too important Feyre.” She tells you of the bargain, and you smile. “You know, I have always wanted to see the Night Court.”

More time has passed and Feyre has beaten the trials. You watch in horror, unable to intervene, frozen to the spot, as Amarantha hurts Feyre, wishing you could fight for her. You glare at your brother, cursing him for not fighting for her. Why can’t he fight for her the way you already had? Why had he given up so easily? You gasp as Feyre answers the riddle and the mask falls from your face. You step forward as Amarantha snaps Feyre’s neck, wanting to do something, anything. You watch as finally, Tamlin does something, killing her, ripping her throat out. You sink to your knees, unable to help the relief that floods your veins along with the grief. Amarantha was dead and that meant that your husband’s death would finally mean something. That you had not lost everything for nothing.

You watch on as the High Lords all revive Feyre, bringing her back as a fae. You ignore the purple-eyed male staring at you and whatever it is you feel pulling you to him. There would be time to worry about that later, but for now, you find yourself at Feyre's other side, realizing that although you had lost so much, there were things you had gained too.

A/N: And there it is! Not feeling great about this one, but everytime I tried fixing it I found myself writing the next parts, so here it is! Requests are open, so feel free to send some in! I'd love to write some one shots too!

divider is by @tsunami-of-tears

taglist: @lilah-asteria @readingislife2006 @acourtofimagines @mistymoocow @irelanrose

#rhysand x reader #rhys x reader #acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar fic #acotar imagine #acotar x reader #acotar x you #maasverse #imagine

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lethby · 16 hours

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What's wrong with lesson 16 (everything)

A list by yours truly, who is about to collapse if she doesn't vent about it (TW: opinion lmao)

⍣ ೋ The time-travel shit

LITERALLY WHY

It creates so many problems and plot holes that could easily be avoided for no reason.

We leave everyone behind and it's never even addressed?? THEY'RE WAITING FOR US???

Barbatos, supposedly the one that cares about balance and timelines, just goes "well you're stuck here and I literally erased the other MC, good ending :D"

He told her "don't run into anyone" and she decides FIRST THING to head where all the noise is coming from, not trying to hide at all

⍣ ೋ No consequences whatsoever

It's awesome to know no one cared about MC dying

Sure, she's "alive" now, but everyone moved on so quickly??? Even Mammon, who was in the verge of a meltdown.

And it's all because we're Lilith's descendant how convenient

Even Belphie, our murderer who has hated humans for MILLENNIA, had a major switch up at this

Also, the brothers begin to completely disregard MC by treating her like Lilith

Look I understand, it's your dead sister and you miss her, BUT MC IS NOT HER. SHE IS HER OWN GODDAMN PERSON

But the worst part is... MC IS SO DAMN CHILL ABOUT IT

Even if she technically isn't the one who died, you'd expect some kind of uneasiness coming from her, SPECIALLY AROUND BELPHIE

Words can't express how much I hate it

⍣ ೋ Solution

I'm gonna make the devs a favor and fix their game

REVIVAL

MC JUST REVIVES FOR WHATEVER REASON (Lilith's will, the last remnants of her powers, Barbatos' precautions...)

Now you don't have to worry about too many plot holes, focusing on just one timeline

Make the brothers indecisive

Also this allows her to remember her death, making her trauma more intense and veridical

I know it sounds crazy but if they could pull out lesson 16, they can pull this out

They got their little brother back, but at what cost?

Everything is fine now, right? But it's not. MC is not "fine"

Make them conflicted between taking MC's side and comforting her but also welcoming Belphie and make up

MAKE MC UNCOMFORTABLE

I can't stress enough how important this part is

Give her TIME to evolve, develop as a character, and understand her feelings

She wouldn't want to be around Belphie, at all

She might not even wanna be around the others, seeing as they treat her like nothing happened

Make her upset, confused, feel like she doesn't belong, ANYTHING

MAKE HER GO THROUGH THE STAGES OF GRIEF

In fact, if you want to make her relationship with Belphie nourish, you can do that too by not just hey lol I killed you but I'm good now

Make her have nightmares

That's it

Make Belphie notice the dark circles under her eyes and the way she avoids him, then discover she has nightmares

The "now" Belphie could feel guilty

He might try to comfort her, only for her to shy away in response

Seeing as his apologies don't work this early into the trauma, he could enter her dreams and chase those nightmares away, every night, sacrificing his own sleep

THAT is a dynamic I want to see, personally

This could have been done with or without the time-travel, btw

In the time-travel, though, I was also missing some grieving from MC

Remember when I said to make the brothers conflicted? Make MC suffer more too

She wants to go back to her time, her universe, her family. They're waiting for her

But she also doesn't want to leave behind these demons, which have just found peace and happiness after a long time

Here's the catch, No matter what she chooses, she's forced to live her life regretting whatever decision she makes, since she can't make everyone happy and one side must suffer inevitably

An MC going through a heavy trauma and eventually (and slowly) overcoming it would just click with so many players

⍣ ೋ Conclusion

To me, the game didn't fully explore the feelings that going through that experience would bring for everyone, even if the idea itself was interesting. No, more like it didn't WANT to. Making MC go through all that would mean a lot of character development for a big amount of characters and little romance, which is what the game is about.

However, if you can't make that sacrifice, don't settle your game in a world rich in lore. And honestly, with all the explanations and back stories, I don't think obey me! is lacking on that. More so that, even if they were fully capable, they didn't want to go through all the trouble. Remember we're coming from an already fucked up scenario that took a lot of chapters.

Finally, this is just my opinion based on my experience. Of course, you don't have to agree with me in any way.

I have to say, that was relaxing lmaoo

Anyways, since I really like this idea and I've seen several people do it, I'm gonna make my own fanfic exploring how I think lesson 16 would have turned out realistically, hope you stay tuned!

Lethby ༊*·˚

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brucewaynehater101 · 2 days

Note

Inspired by the Secret Robin AU by dragonpyre on Tumblr and the genderqueerness Tim has going on with the Jane Doe AU, I've got a Mahou Shoujo Jihen AU for ye! (mangaka, Zero Akabane)

Snippets are occasionally non-chronological/flashback and unreliable narration ahoy lmao

⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅ ✩⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅

Okay so the Graysons', unbeknownst to them, have bloodline of ★magic★

A magic newly-orphaned Grayson has to learn all on his own, for the ward hardly entrusts his legal guardian so new to his life

And he wants something all to himself, something nobody can take away or order him about

Waltz's World he calls it, warping the lines between boy and girl, barriers receding

Aka Grayson can don a Magical Girl form that essentially trans his gender while she's formed, at least at the start

⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅ ✩⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅

Obligatory "Anon is cis and playing with gender through Batkids like dolls, her highest apologies for any fuck ups" Disclaimer

And also tw for small moments of misgendering by characters who have yet to be informed on batkids genders & pronouns

⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅ ✩⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅

When Robin hits the streets, all Batman knows is that she is a child, one he brings under his mentorship and despite all his efforts, is impossible to find the civilian identity of

When she confesses to how new her magic is to her, that she's self taught in it all, he and his colleague find dead end after dead end to see if anybody else knows about her type of magic

If there exists others like her they're niche and hidden

Thus trial and error and the scientific method is their only way to help Robin come into her own

⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅ ✩⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅

Robin is tactical; hammered in by Batman, by Bruce, his guardian and her mentor

If Zucco dies, and it's so obviously linked to her, it could implicate Robin or both of her identities

She has to be smart about this

Murder had no place in Batman's care for her. Dick has to be careful about his search history on computers and what people catch him reading

⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅ ✩⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅

Bruce Wayne worries endlessly over Robin, now a teenage girl

Others too; nobody knows her identity

Dick is a blend of interested and not in the vigilante, opinions ever shifting. They both chalk it up to not knowing the young girl at all

Still, he dreams of a time he does have Robin under his complete care, newly adopted like Grayson, safe from crime fighting

When the news comes out that the killer of Dick's parents are dead, a weight is off his boy's shoulders.

"I have to say thank you to whoever did it." "It looks like it might've been an accident more than anything according to the cops."

Robin has been tense for a time, and still is

"Something happened in my civilian life, nothing major but I'm just waiting for the effects to pass by."

His poor girl . . . "I'm here for you Robin, no matter what happens."

⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅ ✩⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅

The air and earth makes way for Robin's acrobatics, lights turns to her direction, and she's too nimble to be human

Too high, too far, too quick, too lasting are her movements

A cameraboy will never confess that whereas Dick shined with his quadruple somersault, Robin revealed it childsplay

⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅ ✩⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅

Jason is adopted right after trying to rob Bruce Wayne's car

In time Dick and he get along like a house on fire—

⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅ ✩⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅

It's Jason who discovers Robin sneaking into the Manor, into his brother's room on the day he snuck into his closet for a prank of all things

It's Jason who sees Dick take Robin's place and screams

⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅ ✩⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅

—And then it's like they've reached an understanding friendships with nobody else will ever challenge

⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅ ✩⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅

Little Wing hits the streets, partner of Robin

And he's as human as Bruce

"Listen, listen, he's just like me! Powers or not he's going to fight for Gotham, best we can do is prepare the bird!"

So Batman trains the vigilante Jason's age just as he did for Robin. He doesn't try to find his identity

The young duo only trusts each other with the truth

⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅ ✩⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅

Robin set ship for that off-world mission on the promise that Batman would protect Little Wing with his life

⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅ ✩⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅

"I'm gonna be visiting some friends dad, and I'm gonna be off grid during our stay so . . ."

⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅ ✩⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅

there's A Death in the Family alright

⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅ ✩⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅

Bruce's eyes tore into Robin's, her face vomit and tear and snot stained

"Why did you never tell me who he was?"

Dick could only mouth "B— hiccup B—" He retched again

He looked away from the girl

⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅ ✩⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅

"I have a boy your exact age Robin, I think you could be twins, identical ones even, without sharing any blood."

⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅ ✩⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅

Grayson is the saving grace that keeps Batman from losing himself to grief

Bruce sits on his couch, looks down at the despondent boy's head in his lap. eyes hollowed out. hears neither of his boys laughter

He sees Robin's grief polluted face on his boy, and remembers not just what, but who he's fighting for

⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅ ✩⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅

"I never want to see you on the field again Robin. Not after how you've broken my trust"

⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅ ✩⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅

Batman does everything to find who Jason trusted more than his own father, who could have trusted his boy just as much, who was the Robin that dragged his youngest into the night

Not once does he think to ask his eldest what he knew

⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅ ✩⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅

Precious Robin photos are locked away where only he and Jason know

Because Robin is magic

Robin is useless

She has no place upon Little Jason's altars

⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅ ✩⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅

Cross-reference reliable articles and testimonies, and even a boy will learn that Batman is just barely putting in the work to not transform his justice into a suicide mission

Cross-references testimonies, and even a boy will learn that Nightwing puts nothing into holding back against Joker or Harley anymore. Dead or alive, she wants them gone

Even a boy will learn that Nightwing hardly patrols anymore

Everybody knows Batman and Nightwing ties back to Little Wing

Nobody knows where Batgirl went

⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅ ✩⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅

Not bullets nor fallen buildings, but grief losing three all in a fell swoop grounds Robin

⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅ ✩⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅

Distinguishing themselves from the rest of Gotham's upper class, the Drakes adorn their manor with artifacts of all over

Tim has too much time on his hands to not poke and prod at them all

⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅ ✩⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅

Once upon a time Timothy Drake threw away a wish to be treasured more than artifacts, to be loved and adored far beyond relics resilience, to last even longer than objects to get it all

Still he wishes for Little Wing and Robin back, for Bat Girl's return and the quartet of heroes he stalked night after night as they once were

⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅ ✩⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅

She It puts its hands off of the mirror and peeled off its mask

The Drake couple's son sat there again

⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅ ✩⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅

It's not a monkey's paw — it's close enough

⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅ ✩⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅

Tim's plan was to blackmail Batman, pick out its name, and leash the Dark Knight until he was mentally fit again

What it didn't plan for was for Nightwing to apparently know about its magic and track it down

It didn't think it would take this long to pick a name either. Heck it thought Nightwing and Batman cut contact

"Last time I trusted you with a child he died B!"

"I know better now, and unlike you I have the resources to train him to his fullest potential. Little Wing is proof!"

"How fucking dare you?!"

⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅ ✩⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅

Nightwing looks down at Timothy Drake, tears in her eyes

Dick Grayson-Wayne tastes salt on his tongue

⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅ ✩⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅

Between the fact Batkid would be forced to reveal his identity to Batman and statistics showing his increasing violence, how quick he was to put his hand on Robin's throat, versus to Nightwing, the first Robin, his answers is always the same

⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅ ✩⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅

Everybody agrees that the Second Robin looks delicate and precious. The birdie shouldn't be giving up their childhood for Gotham

That is all

Anybody can tell you what good the bird does, leashing the Bat, breaking Nightwing out of her grief, giving whatever the little child can for civilians in need, sinners or not

People can hardly agree on how Robin looks; she looks like my dead daughter, no he's a clone of my son! You idiots they look like those sweet kids I always babysit

All they agree on is that Robin looks as if they must be protected and treasured by their loved ones, not fighting crime

⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅ ✩⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅

Where Nightwing can hardly be touched, Robin recovers too quickly, even by its predecessor's standards

All but rarely, bullets, crushing weights, and strikes may all well be nonexistent the way Robin hardly scratches

Unless one has a meta's intense strength, they will find more progress attacking it's mind or delaying its goals

⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅ ✩⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅

Nightwing blows a fuse Robin hadn't even known existed when she catches wind of all the work its putting into bringing Batman back to the ideal hero he used to be

She doesn't let it overhear the fight this time

From then on she is always with Robin when it patrols

⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅ ✩⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅

Tim huffed as Dick clung to him and Bruce got to arranging himself as his guardian for whenever his parents were out Gotham

Apparently his magic was a filthy traitor! and made a link with Nightwing so that if he was ever in major danger, the heroine who pick up on it

Not only that, but it's been working as a tracker for Nightwing this entire time, the first time around wasn't just an ordinary magic thing like they thought

And they both found while Robin was calming down Batman

But why was Batman insisting on becoming his not-parent if he didn't have a link with him? Nor know about his double life?

⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅ ✩⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅

Batman and Nightwing are certain they know what Robin looks like. A perfect blend between Batgirl, the first Robin, and Little Wing, their greatest failures all in one

It's when they disagree on the more precise details of Robin's costume and it's features do they realize it wasn't civilians and rogues being tricked by the darkness

⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅ ✩⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅

It looked into the mirror in its room in the Wayne Manor

Scrutinizing it's reflection, it looked the same as always, a perfect blend between Batgirl, the first Robin, Little Wing, and Nightwing

Androgynous if leaning on the feminine side

That ideal the Batclan perfectly displayed at its brightest, a living, breathing altar of their glory

It's teammates agreed with it, until last night it seemed

It didn't understand

⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅ ✩⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅

Jason Robin comes back magic

Talia's son and daughter tells her otherwise

⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅ ✩⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅

"Great work Robin," Oracle praised, tucking in some of its loose locks as it turned from its computer to her

The younger hero beamed

⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅ ✩⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅

Well then, if neither of them can be Robin yet . . .

⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅ ✩⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅

It's funny how Nightwing learns she isn't the only one with Waltz in her bloodline. At least, she thinks they both got it from genetics. It was alway an assumption on her part

⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅ ✩⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅

Spoiler becomes the reason criminals and rogues alike flail about uselessly, making long reaching swings whenever. Nobody spots him until it's too late, if at all

Invisibility his beloved 💜💟💜

Even better are the freebies that come before he fights anybody. Little spoilers that make taking his dad's and other villains men down less of a trial

⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅ ✩⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅

Red Hood's violence is distinctive even in Gotham

Yet blowing an entire warehouse to cripple the Joker for good seemed extreme

Then again, it was Joker, extreme measures called

When word spreads of a Little Robin Hood under her care? It explains enough for those without intention to stick their dick in crazy

And thank the Waltz, because the two will never confess it, but it was a trauma-triggered accident

All because the dollar store clown was pissy over names

⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅ ✩⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅

"Dad—!" Bruce's hand ruffled his hair again as the other arm wrapped itself around Tim

Yeah Tim wasn't ever coming out about being Robin if Batman fussed over the two identities this much already. It was a wonder Dick somehow outdid him. He giggled

⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅ ✩⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅

'Big W for Gotham queers' a merry goon tweets on duty, not that she'll confess it over her dead body

'What happened?' another twitter user comments

'Red Hood uses she/they, said so themself'

⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅ ✩⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅

Bruce couldn't have been faster in adopting Stephanie after Spoiler spilled Cluemaster's identity

"Holy, your dad is suffocating. I'm not complaining but how do you get anything done when he's bear hugging you?"

Tim sipped his coffee, "That's sort of our fault for dangling two too many kids he can't adopt and treasure in front of him for years on end. Follow me." She quirked an eyebrow

⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅ ✩⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅

Every blow Red Hood lays screams how that bomb did

Their strikes keep her targets down, and the impacts of her attacks have a larger area of effect than they should

There is no keeping them down

⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅ ✩⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅

"Our dad is Batman?" Stephanie ran around the room

"Not just that, you're brothers—" It watched its sister turn to it and she squinted.

"Are queers," it choked on its coffee with her comment

"Me too Robin!" Spoiler said, running up to it to bearhug it in his own way

"Let me go!"

"Nope! You look way too adorable like this!"

"You guys are the worst!"

⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅ ✩⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅

Little Robin Hood is the most elusive of them all, no doubt hiding herself from his mother when out at night

The greatest of Batman's heirs he strives to be; She doesn't rest until she is the pinnacle of Human, the pinnacle of a Waltz

he doesn't rest until he's picked up his predecessors own unique magics set as a prodigy would, even as the learning curve fights against her mastery of it

She won't rest even after becoming better than his siblings

He must surpass them so much they could never hope to outdo their superior sibling

⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅ ✩⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅

"Yo," Stephanie said, as if it wouldn't make Tim shriek and leap from his couch

"How did you get here?" He made sure this safehouse was the most secure and secretive of them all, how?

"Stalker tracker." She grinned

Her too?! Tim sat back on his couch and screamed into his pillows. His sister laughed

"Want a spoiler on my dad's next puzzle?"

"Give it," wait shit the magic word, "please Steph."

⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅ ✩⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅

Cassandra fisted and unfisted her(?) hand

It was more of a man's now. Except she didn't feel like a man, she felt like— scratch that, she didn't feel like a girl either in this form

⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅ ✩⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅

Robin gasped as its legs carried more broken bones and injuries than it ever had on its body all at once before

This time the wounds weren't sliding off like water but clinging onto it

"Hood—" a blow to its stomach

"Replacement," the woman hissed at it, then screamed

Robin shifted to its side, resisting the urge to cry out in pain, Nightwing now sat on Red Hood, laying blow after blow on the intruder

And she was yelling herself hoarse

Its sister unlatched and threw the helmet—okay bomb, wow its ears were ringing—off

And then Nightwing was on top of a man

"Little Wing!" its sister shrieks, arms wrapped around the stranger. "Why— why— how?"

"Baby on board! Baby on board! Ack!" Spoiler screamed holding up who might be Little Robin Hood trying and failing to escape his hold. both of them were covered in blood and blows

⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅ ✩⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅

Nightwing sat them all down, "Here's what's happening, we're going to keep this to ourselves. I've lost all trust in Bruce with any of your well beings."

"We're going to make it look like Red Hood fought Robin and then fought me as I bought time for my mentee's escape. When Spoiler comes into the scene fighting Little Robin, Red Hood is going to retreat for his sake.

"Robin, you're going to scrub and altar the data in the towers to make this believable; Spoiler, you'll alter or remove any evidence showcasing otherwise; and you two."

Red Hood's grip tightened on her knees.

Nightwing passed a piece of paper, "You're staying in contact with us, I refuse to lose my family again."

A weary smile, "And we'd love to get to know our new sibling."

⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅ ✩⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅

A ballerina becomes Gotham's latest sensation

It's a wonder he— "Gender neutral, they/them" They didn't get hired to perform at Brucie's galas sooner

⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅ ✩⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅

Robin blocked Little Robin Hood's katana with its staff. the latter swung at its legs. it latched its hands onto her arm in retaliation and knocked his blade from his hands

Pinned to the ground, the boy could only try and reach for her fallen weapon as the staff was planted right next to her head—

"That's enough training for the day," Red Hood cut them off, "and your final scores are . . . "

⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅ ✩⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅

"Big bro, big bro, big bro!" Stephanie dragged a girl right to Dick

"Guess what," her grin couldn't get any wider

"You kidnapped a staff member?" her grin got wider

"I kidnapped a sibling" she pointed at the girl, or rather, the ballerina their father hired for the gala

⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅ ✩⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅

He took his face mask off at the worst time

"Jaylad," Bruce's grip all but clawed at Jason's arms

⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅ ✩⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅

When Jason declared they wouldn't reunite with his father, period, Damian was incensed

Now he may just give anything to go back before they did. But since he can't do that, the next best thing is uppercutting Todd for getting them adopted

⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅ ✩⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅

"No more heroism Jaylad—no more Robin—no Little Wing," Bruce said between sobs

Oh he's not a hero anymore alright

⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅ ✩⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅

When Batman found Robin sore all over, more wounded than he'd ever seen, his heart fell

Robin admitting it already healed from most of its injuries by the time he found it flew him into a rage

He threw himself into detaining Red Hood, trying to sieze Little Robin Hood from him, and upping security so his kids, civilian or vigilante, wouldn't suffer like this again

⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅ ✩⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅

Assassin, Talia, the League had trained a boy, a child to be an assassin. They did the same with Jason

Bruce refuses to let his children—vigilante or civilian—suffer again

Thankfully, with how the chaos of legally reviving Jason, and adopting three children in one fell swoop has cooled down, it seems maintaining a healthy relationship with his civillian family is all it will take to keep them from the streets

⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅ ✩⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅

Duke stumbled to his feet, and rushed to a window

They blinked and rubbed her eyes several times over, but its reflection never agreed with what they looked like

Actually, looking down at her hands, it felt and looked more like she was constantly shapeshifting; even his clothes, or hero costume, as was the theme but it never felt uncomfortable keep changing form

This was their meta power? He almost wanted to call out how lame it was but she had to maintain a secret identity somehow

Hold on, she—?

⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅ ✩⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅

Don't get Duke wrong, he was endlessly grateful for Bruce

But if Bruce was as good and smothering of a parent like his siblings said, We Are Robin would be down a leader

Everybody had noticed just how much Batman was gunning for Red Hood. Nobody knew why; was it a consequence of her killing his nemesis Joker? Because they stole the name of Little Wing's killer?

Whatever it was, the streets felt less safe when people could gamble on the Bat's activity in accordance to Hood's and be less fearful of the hero, and somebody had to do something about it

Even if it was an army of powerless youth, led by a meta

Duke prayed to every confirmed deity that Bruce never caught him sneaking out

⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅ ✩⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅

Dick stood in front of Duke. Duke who was in their Robin costume, oh shit, this was the worst time to not have enough light to flashbang somebody, he noted down to always a source of light or some absorbed for now on

Her brother clasped his hands and smiled, "well then Robin"

Duke's breath hitched—this was the end of everything it worked for

Nightwing, the original Robin took Dick's place, "welcome to the family"

WHAT THE FUCK?!

⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅ ✩⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅

We Are Robin's leader becomes Signal

⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅ ✩⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅

Damn did I run out of steam at the end

"But nonnie, why is Waltz's world accessible through so many different means?" Idk XDDDDD

Everything I touch becomes a fic I have an actual problem lmao

Extra Notes and Clarifications, apologies for the mess, I'm jumping from section to section as I write and copy and paste

Batman and Bruce have a clearer line dividing the two than canon since only Barbara and Alfred (and others I may not know/forgot from canon) are in his inner circle and aware of his double life—to his knowledge

Speaking of Barbara and Alfred, I haven't done them any justice, nor given them much attention

How the batkids having Waltz's World affects them by consequence alongside other AU elements, I did not account for, well I did so for Barbara but hardly at all

I just implied that Oracle and Waltz!Tim have a relationship, and it goes without saying Barbara and Alfred has different relationships with the Wayne kids than Oracle and Agent A do the Batkids

Back to Bruce---

Knowing multiple kids, most of them feminine in gender identity and/or appearance, fighting crime with only him as a well-off adult figure in their lives makes him concerned

Partly because he doesn't know how they are doing out of costume or what trauma they've covered up with the faster magical healing of their bodies

And also partly sexism since he'll have biases subconsciously at the very least

Honestly an entire fic made of this AU could have a focus/subplot tackling sexism, queerphobia, and other biases, how they intersect, + exploring internalized biases on the Batsiblings part

Bruce wants to have his mentees safe under his roof, siblings with his own kids, and full-time civilians for their own wellbeing

This pushed him to adopt Dick and everyone else unlike/quicker than canon from a subconscious want to make that dream a reality even back when it was just the first Robin around

Bruce abusing his vigilante kids as he does in canon, plus more if you want him to abuse them more than canon, is arguably even more fucked than in canon

Because I imagine compared to canon, here he would be investing even more into his relationships for his kids on the civilian and vigilante side due to guilt from hiding half himself

He expresses his love for them both even more, which will fuck with said kids coming to terms with their abuse. It's even more of an uphill battle

"Wow, look at that plothole-topia!" I say sipping my abuelita knowing damn well who architected it (me)

I never established how Dick learned Bruce = Batman or if he knew at all RIP

Hey maybe Dick and Jason never learns that Batman = Bruce until Tim comes and spills the tea. That could be fun

At first I was gonna have everyone's Waltz form be the "opposite" gender to theirs but then I got to Tim, thought about how I set him up to wanna be loved just like the Drake's did things over their son

I thought about how back when he was just taking photos, he had an idealized picture (pun intended) of the Bats, an idealized image. a concept; a thing

And how that could lead to his own Waltz form being one that used it/its like people do for things

So then I got experimental with it

Methinks Tim would be agender &/or gendervoid in Waltz

Dick eventually settles on the fact he's genderfluid, and later on occasionally using she/her as Grayson and he/him as Robin/Nightwing

Lets say it's cuz he always wanted to be like both is parents that his Waltz makes him so

He views the change in gender identity and pronouns as him tossing a coin; whenever he flips the coin to the Nightwing side, she sees herself female, when flipped to Dick's side, he's male

Rarely the coin tossing itself without his input and lands on the thin side; that's when Dick identifies as the gender she does in her other identity

Jason accepts that he falls under solidly cis since even they/them is dysphoric for him; he once experimented with they/she cuz he wanted to be like his older brother-sister

Then the lazarus pit happen, she winds up using they/she in Waltz form and he/him as Jason

Views himself as a cis as Jason; a demigirl as Red Hood. Maybe she's still figuring things out? idk

Since he had the Waltz World magic just like their sister who was Nightwing now, she could be Robin now!

Then she learned about Damian and Tim calling dibs before her and that made them and Dami fight

Damian and Jason call truce on the grounds of Tim being a common enemy and obstacle in being Robin, so Damian goes to Gotham with Jason

Damian was dunked in the same pit as Jason here, hence why he also got a Waltz form

for plot convenience, they are the exception and not the rule when it comes to lazarus waters and Waltz's World

He wanted to inherit the Robin or Little Wing mantle as Bruce's heir, and fantasized about donning both, thus his Waltz form is bigender, she/he, boy and girl; maybe Damian decides he's also she/he and boy and girl as a civilian as well

Damian's Waltz form is the perfect balance between first Robin's and Little Wing's fem and masc gender presentations, so when you know what to look for it's obvious she's bigender, boy and girl

I made Steph and Cass have Waltz in their bloodlines just as Richard does because I couldn't come up with creative ways for them to join Waltz's World like the boys, lo siento :(

But you can do fun stuff with three non-blood related people sharing the same magic in their genetic history

For Steph I decided to make her intergender, mostly female as Steph, mostly male as Spoiler, but uses he/him as Steph and She/her as spoiler more often than Dick

Steph views her gender as a seesaw; being Steph the saw in pointed towards she/her, and being Spoiler points it in he/him, but sometimes the saw does the exact opposite and sometimes the saw tips a bit less than his form's typical gender so she feels a bit more like a boy or a girl when in civillian or Waltz

She thinks she will reach a point where the saw begins to perfectly balance itself or get close enough that she feels more like using they/them instead but she doesn't know if her guess is accurate yet

Cassandra I think would flip flop trying to figure out if they're Gendernuetral or Genderless in Waltz form, maybe eventually deciding that using Orphan and other (nick)names is preferable to pronouns and discards pronouns

An idea I had for Damian, where he used the pronouns and gender identities of all the other batkids, got given to Duke instead

Since Duke is basically the motherfucking moon with how he absorbs light and We Are Robin is all about taking on Robin's name and duties, I tweaked his own Meta abilities to copy and paste their all the batkids Waltz schtick and genders since that's bascially his desire at the moment

Also his meta power converted itself into Waltz Magic 100%, no refunds, so that's gonna be a fun surprise when he claims to just be a Meta copying their magic and he's proven wrong, he's magic too

But an AU of this AU where his meta abilities truly are just duplicating the magic would be fun to check-out

Oh yeah, idk shit about the time periods the batkids grew up in or what it'd be like be growing up coming to terms with being queer even in modern day so I'm useless on that part

But let's just say that;

Dick grew up traveling plenty and was introduced to queer identity at a young age, so while awakening his power freak her out a bit, she takes it in stride

Jason has a more rigid understanding due to a lack of education on the streets, but after learning about Robin, Dick teaches him what he knows about queerness

Tim grew up as a rich kid taught cisnormativity by both his parents and others he grew up around

As a result he expects himself to be a man through and through. It's a bit of a learning curve on his part

+ in Waltz form it thinks its a she because it looks feminine, only to unconsciously correct itself while freaking out after transforming for the first time

For all Tim knows, his stalking did not lead him to learn about Robin's magic including ✨gender✨

So when the artifact grants his wishes, concious and subconcious?

Tim is confused about the Waltz stuff, hence why it defaults to its/it and doesn't try to force itself to use she/her pronouns, cuz its still figuring stuff out and more focussed on the Bats than gender identity

Then comes in Dick to teach Tim about queerness as he once did for Jason

I dunno jack shit about the cultures Damian grew up in under the league so I dunno how Damian would take the whole Waltz thing at first

I think Jason would fill in some gaps in the case Damian has more to learn about bening genderqueer; maybe the League and Dami even teach Jason their own understandings of gender

No clue how Steph or Cassandra or Duke would take the Waltz thing before joining the bat siblings

I should get into clarifying the magic

Dick's magic is all about acrobatics and enhancing her body in ways that ascends her ability to preform them

Tim's is all about being wanted; being the perfect image of what kind of person those seeing it want to protect and treasure above all else. It's outfit and features craft an illusion different to everybody else's eyes

Tim's Waltz form is to itself, an idealized all-in-one combo of the vigilantes it worshipped and followed on the streets

Continuing the "Treasure me" theme, Tim also makes Links with other Waltz's World people it trusts that alert them when it's in serious danger and allows them to track it down whenever

Plus it works when in its Waltz and civillian identities 24/7

and he can't control them, much to his annoyance, a wee bit of karma for his own stalking tendencies

Additionally Tim's wanted to last the elements and foes like ancient artifacts did, so it becomes a tank in the face of hurt

Stephanie can turn invisible whenever he wants alongside what he has in hand and whoever he touches; plus he get one trailormade spoiler per enemies to give him an advantage

Maybe in time the number of spoilers he can get per enemy increases, and

Jason is also a tank that can't be kept down and every assault they lay have way more power to them than other humans could hope to do

Damian has the power to copy the magic of other Waltz users, the problem lies in that it get exponentially harder the better he gets at their magic

Because again, she's trying to take in magic not not made for her, and as the family grows, he's run himself thin trying to master multiple magics fighting against it all at once

That could be an interesting conflict

Once he does master a copied magic, he's good to go, it comes to him as easily as if it were his own magic

On top of that is the much more natural body enchanting magic that make her a perfect assassin

Cassandra's magic lets them learn at a rapid pace. She had to as an assassin. Through it, they learn how to speak, cultural norms and other nessecery life skills

It also enhancing their ballerina skillset, launching their fame

Outside of Duke duplicating all his siblings gender identities, her magic is just like their canon meta abilities; it's just Waltz magic instead of meta abilities

Oh yeah, Duke also shapeshifts endlessly in Waltz form without pause, to look like one batsibling to the next, the most consistent part of her form is their Signal costume which still alters in appearance all the time

Other stuff I didn't adress oh frick

How does those a part of Waltz's World keeping it a secret too themselves affect the batkids relationship with everyody else?

How does the Waltz World stuff affect everybodies relationships period?

What affect does knowing Jason was an is formerly Little Wing have on Bruce, Alfred and Barbara throughout the storyline? On their relationship with eachother

Since Batman and Oracle are two of the few wholly human heroes in this AU unlike canon, Little Wing's death probably cause a huge reaction in the super community cuz one of the very rare human heroes fucking died

On top of that, back when it was only Robin and no one else, Batman and co. tried to find others with the same magic as the sidekick, only to come out emptyhanded; Is anything ever done with any knowledge acquired during the failed investigation?

Because Robin likely told Batman what little he knew about Waltz's World at the time, alongside other investigators when they tried to learn more or find other like Robin. That data is saved somewhere

After Jason's death, Nightwing distanced himself from Batman and went back to self-teaching, so Batman would no longer have Dick as a resource to learn about Waltz's World; he, Barbara and Alfred would have to piece together clues by themselves

And I think they'd have to learn all on their own Nightwing's inner circle so-to-speak are also part of Waltz's World

Batman is pulling his hair out because where are these Waltz users coming from all of the sudden? Where were they when he was looking for them?

Honestly I wouldn't be surprised if that became the name of the squad since as far as they know, only they have this very magic; Waltz's World

How does Waltz magic interest with sciences or other magics or divinity, etc etc?

oh yeah another thing, Waltz's World in Mahou Shoujo Jihen canonically ceases the aging process, but let's tweak it and say that Waltz's World pauses a person's age at the moment their body reaches their physical peak, meaning the batkids will eventually discover themselves unaging, unlike their father and countless other people dear to them

Forgive me if I'm wrong I've got a poor memory

Also I dunno much about the actual Waltz dance, but a quick google search (ruh, roh, that cooked engine) says it used to have strict roles for men and woman

That's what Waltz's World is named after in the manga, it grants men a woman's body and vice versa, the two genders needed for the dance

But in modern day, where societal constructs of gender are being demolished and rebuilt in front of countless eyes (not to say that it never was before modern times, its just way more accessible to witness with the internet) the way people view and preform the Waltz would and has changed as well

This is all to say I thought I threw the Waltz symbolism from the manga into the bin when I decided "lets experiment with MORE genders!" only to realize it never went anywhere at all

By the Waltz, now my brain is cooked

My final idea unless I realize I wanna send another ask with ideas I only came up with after pressing [Ask] is that the Waltz dance itself could be used in a fic of this AU as a motif; so imagine a hypothetical fic with me---

Every batkid and batkid duo and three-or-more batkids all preform the Waltz multiple times throughout the fic

As their own understanding of their gender identities grow and change, the way they preform the Waltz drifts away more and more from how couples did the Waltz long ago, and they add their own personal flairs to the Waltz dances. the way they preform the Waltz becomes more and more their way instead of the tradtional way

It reaches a point where once they can confidentally answer "Who am I?" the can dance their Waltzes to the fullest of their ability and euphoria as a metaphor for the very gender euphoria they feel all together at the moment; maybe they even swap between civillian and magical forms during their dance

Hell maybe the non-existant fic ends with a scene of the batkids preforming that very Waltz preformance I described

I think I'm out of ideas at last

Go crazy, go stupid with this AU people, play with it however you wanna

I can't even begin to describe how ecstatic I was reading this. A gender queer batfam fic rules, but to add on it/its pronouns? Fuck. Gods, I'm so happy with that.

Alright! So, I have no idea about the Waltz World source material, but I'm chill with that. I like the concept as it's described.

Because gender is a social construct, it is completely okay to have different gender identities/pronouns depending on the social environment (or, like this AU, the vigilante and civilian personas having various gender preferences).

So, let's create a list to make the pronouns clear:

Dick: he/him (sometimes her), Nightwing: she/her (sometimes he)

Jason: he/him, Red Hood: she/they

Tim: he/him, Robin: it/its

Steph: she/her (sometimes he), Spoiler: he/him (sometimes her)

Damian: she/him, Robin Hood: he/her

Cass: no pronouns

Duke: all pronouns (does this include neopronouns?), Signal: all pronouns

Bruce: he/him, Batman: he/him

Barbara: she/they, Oracle: she/they

Alfred: he/him

I like the idea of no pronouns for Cass since Cass was taught language later in life and thus doesn't associate Cass or Orphan with pronouns. I also gave Barbara she/they pronouns because being gender queer is not exclusive to Waltz World. That magic affects one's gender expression (and also affects how the individual may perceive their gender identity in different forms).

Alfred is definitely in the background, ironing out a plethora of pride flags based on whatever he figures out about others' current thoughts on their LGBT labels (he's discrete to those who haven't come out or told others yet). He also makes rainbow cookies, multicolored drinks, and displays photos around the house with subtle pride flags incorpated in their colors (like those sunset LGBT photos). The pride flag photos are as many as Alfred can find, regardless if any of the flags relate to one of the family members. It's the dealer's choice on whether Bruce knows the specifics or if he knows, from Alfred's actions, that at least one of his kids is queer.

Might I add that I love that you addressed that Bruce probably has some subconscious sexism that affects him attitude.

As far as queerphobia and all the discussions they can have about that, there is so much to interact with there. For instance, their socioeconomic background would affect their queerness (as far as how they are treated within the community, by those outside it, by those within the various minority or majority group they belong to, what it's like for those with more or less money, etc). They could also discuss their specific issues regarding their particular gender identity (Tim with the it/its pronouns, Cass with none, Duke with all of them, Damian with using both she and he, Jason with considering himself cisgender outside of Waltz, etc).

Because I want to have more representation where queerness is normalized, imma hc that Gotham (besides Bristol) is accepting. There's various levels of understanding/knowledge into distinct labels, colors, history, etc., but it's normal to use whatever pronouns (or lackof) that people say to use. There's no reaction at all to people's various gender expressions, partners, etc. It's normal to just be chill with it in Gotham, but it's debatable whether the person quite knows all the details (like that interview: "How many genders are there?" "I don't know. I just got here").

Outside of Gotham and online, there's the horrid shit. There's also other pockets of full acceptance around the world like Gotham. Metropolis is one of them (which is another reason why Gotham and Metropolis have such a rivalry).

The JL typically doesn't care about gender standards. A lot of them are not from Earth, so those societies (or other ones they have been exposed to) might not follow a binary gender structure. Those from Atlantis are around sea creatures that can switch their gender. Wonder Woman and those of her similar background grew up around the same myths that talk about gods and people switching into all kinds of stuff (animals, different genders, trees, etc). There may be a few that aren't aware initially of the many possibilities, but they either become accepting or get kicked out (fuck queerphobia).

There may be some subconscious shit in these more safe spaces, but overall people don't give a fuck what you identify as or who you get with (or if you don't get with anyone).

At the same time, I'd love for Batman to have to give an HR-similar presentation on queerness to the entire JL. Maybe they have one every year (including ones for different minorities [which incorporates metas and various alien species]) to discuss how to help folks of different background and how to be respectful of their culture/identity/behaviors/etc.

Anyways! Love the AU

#dc comics #dc universe #bruce wayne #dick grayson #jason todd #tim drake #dc au #damian wayne #steph brown #duke thomas #cass wayne #barbara gordon #thank you for the ask!!!!#alfred pennyworth #don't like don't interact

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mediumgayitalian · 3 hours

Text

———

Will is good at making decisions.

It’s one of the only things he’s good at, actually. He can’t fight. He can’t control water or lightning or plants. He’s not as smart as the Athena’s kids or as charming as the Aphrodite’s. He is clumsy and soft-hearted and stubborn. But he is observant, he always has been, and he prides himself in his ability to think ahead. He keeps his infirmary stocked and his siblings on schedule. He reigns in head counsellor meetings and draws up binders and binders of files and projects — he is organised. He watches, he notices, he reflects, he prepares. He’s as impulsive as the rest of them, sure, but he has enough contingencies in place that he’s solid. A solid head on his shoulders, and he knows it — the head medic must.

So when he watches himself, horrified, diverge from his very detailed twenty-nine step process entitled The di Angelo Dilemma: Approaching Friendship like a Normal Person and ask Nico to come over, he considers the possibility that he has been possessed. Maybe the eidolons that fucked everything up the first time around have been crouching in dark corners, patiently awaiting the perfect time to strike and ruin Will’s life.

“See you then,” says Nico, rushing out the door, and Will smiles at him easily, watching him dash across the common, and then he sets aside the folder he’s updating, walks calmly out of the empty infirmary, nodding to Mr. D. as he passes, turns a corner in the hallway, slips into his favourite supply closet, sticks a chair under the door handle, clears his throat, and screams.

It’s one of those good screams, by design; he takes a good deep breath beforehand and lets the sound billow out of him, lets it scrape the sides of his throat raw and reverberate somewhere in the base of his skull. Were he not home in a camp that regularly makes use of lethal weaponry and deadly rivalry, entire armies would come running to his defense. As it is, he is left to fall to his knees and scream until he is hoarse, or until he hears a faint will you shut the fuck up! echo from around the vegetable gardens.

“Why me,” he croaks, giving in and collapsing to the floor.

It’s a nice floor, really. In between breakdowns he returns and decorates the place, sweeping up the dust and covering floors and surfaces with rugs and throw pillows. A guitar leans in the far corner for when his mother is thousands of miles away and he’s feeling sorry for himself. A photo album lives half-shoved under a shelf for when he is in need of punishing. His sketchbook remains in a constant state of almost-full under the one dusty window. (That one carries slightly less general despair.)

He is, upon reflection, somewhat of a disastrous person.

How fitting.

“Ugh,” he says out loud, to himself, and reaches for his guitar.

He has no intention of playing anything worthwhile. In fact he doesn’t even bother tuning it, not that he can very well anyway, and just strums random chords and riffs and yells over a string of flat discortants, at one point, filling the tiny room with noise ontop of noise ontop of noise until everything is gleefully stifling, like a mass of birds clouding the sun, like the thirteenth year of swarming cicadas, like the twentieth layer of July Texan heat. Until the mess is transferred from inside of his head to outside of it. Until he has committed so many musical sins that his father retreats from the sky a full forty minutes early.

“I feel you are at fault,” says Kayla, when he finally returns to their cabin. “For.” She gestures vaguely at The Outdoors.

“Hnnngh,” responds Will, taking three steps and tipping, gracelessly, onto Austin’s bunk, nearly bouncing right off of it. He catches himself, barely, and presses hard into the pillow, curling when his brother makes space for him, when his sister sighs, deliberately loud, and presses her knee into his thigh as she climbs up, too.

“This is your own fault,” Kayla grumbles. Her bony shoulders settle along the dips of his ribs, next to Austin’s thin ankles. “You could talk about things before they blow up in your face, but nooooooo. You run around doing everything yourself. Moron.”

Will swipes the heel of his hand under his eyes, throat garbling a weird snort-laugh-sniffle. Those bony shoulders tip to the side, slowly, until she curls under his chin, dragging Austin down with her. “You’re so mean to me.”

“Sh-h,” Austin says, patting blindly until his palm finds Will’s face, then patting deliberately. His knees press against Will’s, now, forehead inches away, barely clinging onto the too-narrow mattress. “Quiet town now. Reflect in your foolishness.”

“So mean.”

Years ago, exactly how many Will refuses to count, this exact scenario would be met by lots and lots of teasing, by pinched cheeks and cuffed shoulders and a forehead kissed several times over. There would be at least six instruments played at once, a camera flash the second he walked in the door pouting, and more lights on that would ever be necessary. An oft-repeated and never-resolved debate, probably; you coddle him, Cass; oh, shut up, Michael, he’s little. The scent of woodgrain and antiseptic and vanilla. A thousand other details he never thought to memorize.

Now there is quiet, or at least more of it.

Kayla hums, notes muffled as she gnaws on her lip, and Austin’s socked feet tap against the blankets, mapping out the tune playing out in his far-away eyes. The last final glow of the horizon turns red, then orange, then violet, sinking into dark navy blue, and their aunt blinks her way into focus, stretching widely across the thin wisping clouds. The fairy lights wrapped around the pillars and ceiling beams blink alongside the stars, chatting away to each other, and the breeze from the window is soft and warm and almost as sweet as southern jasmine. There is a pit in the dead centre of Will’s chest, and he is afraid Kayla will fall into it, and then Austin; afraid they will succumb to his gaping maw.

“What if I ruin absolutely everything,” he says. He swallows, and then again, and again, because his throat is dry, escape for the burning trails mapping the his face from corner of his eye to mouth. “What if I — scare. Am. What if I’m the reason, again.”

Diana snorts. You are such a drama queen.

And that’s coming from this theatre, Lee adds, gesturing grandly to the gold pillars of the cabin. You’ll be fine, kid.

A chorus of agreements from the rest of the occupied bunks; Kate’s encouraging grin, Leanna’s fond hair ruffle as she dances past, Amir’s wink. Will smiles and blinks back and he is gone, and Michael’s scowl disappears, and Kate and Phoebe’s laughter fades from the background. The cabin is quiet, shadowy; Austin and Kayla breathe quietly, swallow silently.

“I don’t know,” Kayla admits. “You — could be. Again.”

Will squeezes his eyes shut. He begs for Lee to go back to his sleep for the night. He inhales around the shake and inhales and inhales and inhales and feels the vacuum dead centre in his body, like from navel to spin, twisting, tubing, sucking; take, take, take, take. Can I, can I, can I. I want. Please. Let me have.

“I’m not sure it’s better not to try, though.” Austin’s hands curl around Will’s palm. “Right? You always say to — try. Do your best.”

A smile curls up the corner of Will’s mouth.

“I do.”

“And you did try.”

“I did.”

“Did it fail?”

Will flicks down to meet Kayla’s eyes, squinting one and tucking his chin.

“I asked to come over.”

“Oh, well — okay, Marilyn Monroe. Like that’s a new thing.”

“For no reason.”

“…Oh.”

“I could go on the sand rant, Kayla. I’m like a sleeper agent. As soon as he says it, I’ll — you know.”

Austin shifts, frowning thoughtfully. “I mean, he kind of already knows you’re weird.”

“Not this weird!”

“I think everyone knows you’re weird, actually,” Kayla adds. She wiggles, squirming and elbowing until she is half-perched on the fleshy part of Will’s waist, ignoring his wheezing. “Being a nerd dork loser is kind of your whole thing.”

“It is not!”

“You have binders dedicated to people, Will.”

“That’s not bad!”

“Specifically on how to best socialize with them, Will.”

“That’s — thoughtful!”

“…Sometimes being related to you is hard.”

“I am! Collecting data! To better my relationships! What is the issue!”

Austin and Kayla exchange a meaningful look — which does not, Will is relatively certain, usually involve putting your entire palm on your brother’s face and shoving it so it cannot be seen. Kayla.

“You’re doomed to fail,” they decide. And then they kick him off the bed, which is rude, but he is weak to their giggling, and it’s bedtime for them, anyways.

As per his carefully outlined routine they are sent to the showers and sinks, back in half an hour, bickering. As per his less carefully outlined but nonetheless regularly present routine they are separated physically from each other and shoved to seperate bunks. As per his most carefully outlined routine, he follows them each, ignoring their complaints, and presses the back of his hand to each forehead, closing his eyes as he lets his life force bleed into theirs, mixing, checking, making sure.

“We’re fine,” Kayla grumbles.

“Shut up and cough,” Will orders.

Austin gives him less trouble. Will makes a show of thanking him for it. Kayla throws her extra pillow. Will takes it, placing it on his own bed. It is silent after he says goodnight, silent as he clicks off the light, gathers his caddy, pads to the door.

“Goodnight,” whispers a voice, half hidden by the creak of the screen door as he opens it.

“Goodnight,” whispers another, half hidden by the cream of the screen door as he closes it.

“Goodnight,” Will repeats, grinning. “Sleep well, kiddos.”

They grumble, and their bedsprings groan as they turn away, mimicking the grate of the rickety porch steps. That, at least, is familiar; that at least matches the echoes that bounce around the walls of the cabin and the inside of his skull.

———

#i never stop thinking about cabin 7 fr #pjo #percy jackson and the olympians #hoo #heroes of olympus #pjo hoo toa #will solace #will solace angst #will solace & kayla knowles #will solace & austin lake #will solace & austin lake & kayla knowles #apollo kids #solangelo #pining will solace #my writing #fic #longpost #autistic will solace

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danikamariewrites · 2 days

Text

A New King

Ruhn x reader

Notes: Happy last day of @ruhnweek ! For Ruhn’s fall from grace I thought what would cause him to be disowned. Could he finally have partied too hard? Spent too much of daddy’s money? But none of that would piss the Autumn King off or make him pay attention to Ruhn. What would really piss the Autumn King off is if Ruhn started getting into politics, shadowing his father, attending important meetings.

Getting into a large disagreement about how to rule the Valbaran and Avallen Fae, the Autumn King casts his son out. Angry and on his own, Ruhn leaves Lunathion with his most loyal subjects following him. Establishing his new rule in the north, just outside of Nena, the rogue prince starts his campaign for his father’s throne. Ruhn is looking for alliances, even if it means getting married. The prince will go to any lengths to take down his father.

Warnings: none

Watching the snow covered country side blur past the car window you fidget with the fur gloves in your hands. Your winter ensemble was fit for a princess, which made sense, as you were going to be one in a week.

The maid had dressed you in a snow blue dress, heeled boots of the same color. Diamonds dangled from your ears with the matching pendant around your neck. The set was a gift from Ruhn, along with the promise of a ring to match.

You had been counting down the minutes until you would arrive at King Ruhn’s stronghold. Once a headquarters for the Asteri they abandoned, Ruhn thought it the perfect place to take up residence. It was out of reach from his father and any unwanted visitors would surely die of frostbite or hypothermia if they didn’t travel in from the main road, which was heavily guarded.

You were getting closer now. The increase of military vehicles on the side of the road gave away your proximity. When Ruhn left Lunathion he took a good chunk of the Aux and the 33rd with him. Once the news broke of the war between the king and his son more defected to his side, including some of the Asteri’s army.

Whether the Asteri sent the soldiers or not remained a mystery to the public. Questions ran through your mind when your parents told you they were allying with Ruhn. Would the Asteri let this happen? Would the fae and the city change for the better? You had even more questions when they told you you’d be his bride.

You had no issue about marrying Ruhn, besides the fact that your parents just gave you up without warning. Ruhn wasn’t cruel or crazy. You had never really thought he was serious about ruling in all honesty.

Your family was the wealthiest and oldest fae families after Ruhn’s. They had power and influence, everything the new king was looking for. Clearly your parents liked his idea of ruling better than the Autumn King’s. Otherwise you’d still be at home in the city, not hiding away in the country side.

The car pulled to a stop a little ways away from the entrance, parking near a row of military vehicles. Your nerves had your stomach in knots. Taking a deep breath you slip your gloves back on in anticipation of the few minutes you’d be outdoors.

“Ready?” Your mother asks enthusiastically. Shooting her a nasty scowl you open the door, sliding out of the black SUV.

Looking around you spot angels and fae dressed in thick winter wear, checking crates and cars, standing guard armed with guns and knives strapped to their thighs.

The old metal doors creaked open, catching your attention. A familiar looking red headed female makes her way over to you, her smile dazzling and welcoming. “Hello, I’m Bryce Quinlan, the king’s second hand.” She said in greeting, clearly very pleased with what her brother is doing. “You must be y/n. I’m here to take you to Ruhn.” You slightly bow to her, “It’s wonderful to meet you Bryce. Thank you for greeting us.”

“Come, I don’t want to keep him. The King has a packed schedule unfortunately today so you might not see him again until dinner.” Bryce turns to lead you and your parents into the stronghold.

Walking through the halls you expected the place to be more run down. It was quite the opposite, everything was polished and pristine. Everything was updated to be more modern looking from the flooring to the first lights.

Before you knew it you were all entering the “throne room”. Bryce had used air quotes when describing it because it wasn’t exactly that. More of a meeting room with a slightly larger chair for Ruhn. He was intent on an ostentatious display of power. You figured it was to not be anything like his father, which you respected him for.

Bryce cleared her throat, breaking up the conversation between Ruhn and three males you didn’t know. The one with angel wings gave the princess a loving look, only snapping on a cold look when he realized the company she was with.

The three males stood to the side, leaving the dark mysterious prince and you to just stare at each other. You couldn’t help but be captivated by his beauty. You’d only ever seen pictures of him on your phone and thought he was hot. Up close was something else. Ruhn’s blue eyes sparkled as they roved your body as your own took in each of his exposed tattoos and muscles outlined by his tight shirt.

Remembering your position you cleared your throat dipping into a small curtesy. “It’s an honor to meet you, your grace.” You didn’t know if he preferred prince or king. Ruhn, a slight smirk pulling at his full lips, bowed his head. “It’s an honor to meet you, y/n. I also want to thank you for agreeing to this, and for your support.”

“Of course,” you respond quietly. You could feel your parents staring intensely at the back of your head making your nerves return. It seemed Ruhn could sense your discomfort. Standing taller, commanding the attention of the Ruhn, all eyes went to him. “Could I have a moment alone with my bride-to-be,” he phrased it as more of a command than a question.

The three nameless males nodded along with Bryce, leaving with your parents in tow. Your mother seemed reluctant to leave you alone with Ruhn. Not for safety concerns, more because she was nosy and wanted to control the situation.

Once the doors shut and you were alone together you felt more relaxed. A shyness you had never felt before in your life took over, making your cheeks heat. Ruhn approached you, pulling out a chair for you from the long meeting table. “Thank you,” you whispered, taking a seat.

Sitting next to you he gives you a reassuring smile. “I know our marriage is not something you anticipated or even wanted. It’s a sacrifice whether you think so or not, and I will do everything in my power to make this as easy for you as possible. If there is anything you want or need please don’t be afraid to ask.” The sincerity in his voice made your heart soar.

When contemplating an arranged marriage by your parents you had always pictured them choosing a male who was stuck up and in his own world. While Ruhn is in his own world there is a kindness to him you’ve never seen in other males.

Ruhn continued asking you questions about yourself. What you went to school for, your interests, favorite foods, stuff like that. Before you knew it over an hour had passed. Staring at the clock you slightly jolted, remembering Bryce saying Ruhn had a busy schedule. “What is it?” Ruhn asks, worry lacing his tone.

“Oh, umm Bryce said you have a busy day and I didn’t mean to keep you this long,” that shyness came creeping back in, a blush dusting your cheeks again. Ruhn smiles sweetly at you. “Don’t worry about it. I am prince of this place, remember.” He teases with a raised brow, his piercing glinting in the sunlight coming through the tall windows.

“I don’t want to stress you out by thinking you’re keeping me.” He says, standing from the table and holding out his hand for you. “Come on, I’ll show you to your room.” You laced your fingers with his, letting Ruhn pull you along.

As he gave you a history of the stronghold you let your mind wander. Maybe this wouldn’t be as bad as you thought. Ruhn seemed to want to get to know you and he was quite charming. With time maybe your relationship can grow into something…more.

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