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isolemnlyswearpevensie · 4 years

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I’ve Been Missing You Lately | Caspian x Reader

Warnings: Parents fighting/arguing

Word Count: 1.2k

Time/Era: Years after the Voyage of the Dawn Treader

Summary: After a big fight between Caspian and Y/N, their two kids are worried their family is falling apart

Request: Please write more Caspian imagines (Narnia). The last one was so cute! Maybe you could write one that you and Caspian got into a fight and your kids heard you and Caspian argue and they are afraid that you guys don’t love each other anymore and your comfort them and then Caspian walks in trying to apologize and ALOT OF FLUFF please and thank you 💕

A/N: Phew lots of Caspian the past few days! Do you guys still like them? I’ve been getting a lot of requests for him, but the posts haven’t been getting many notes. It’s not an issue, obviously, cause notes aren’t why I’m writing, but I was just wondering! Thank you for requesting this and for the compliment! I hope you enjoy! If anyone has a request, send it my way! I love writing! It doesn’t have to be for Caspian; I also write for Edmund, Peter, and various Harry Potter characters!

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“All I’m saying is it would be nice if you joined us for dinner!” Y/N slapped the kitchen counter with the tea towel in her hand. He had arrived late for dinner, again, and missed tucking in their children. Their daughter, Juniper, was eight, and their son, Tallon was four, so the nightly bedtime ritual was important to them.

“And all I’m saying is that isn’t possible right now. For the love of Aslan, Y/N! I’m the King, I have work to do.” He had his hands pressed against the backrest of one of their kitchen chairs with his arms straight.

“So much work that you can’t spend three fucking hours with your wife and children? They’ve been asking where you’ve been, by the way. If you even care. You leave at the ass crack of dawn and get home hours after they’re put to bed. What the hell am I supposed to tell them? Daddy’s too busy to play with you?” Caspian had never seen Y/N this angry, at least not at him. It was odd and scary. Odd and scary made him defensive.

“You tell them that their father’s the King of Narnia, that’s what you say. My times fucking important, I need to use it wisely.” He pushed the chair forward, making it screech against the tile floor and slam into the table.

“Oh, so we’re not important enough for your precious royal time? Nice to know, Caspian.” Y/N leaves the kitchen quickly, trying to hide her tears. Caspian lets out a deep sigh and runs a hand down his face. He was beyond exhausted and now, instead of treated his wife like the Queen she was, he treated her like garbage. He knew she was right, too. Y/N wasn’t asking much and yet he let his temper get the best of him.

Y/N closed the door to her and Caspian’s room quietly. While the married couple had been discussing loudly in the kitchen, the bedroom was closer to her children and she didn’t want to wake them.

She stared at her reflection in the mirror. Makeup was running down her cheeks and her eyes were red and puffy. She took a damp rag and wiped away her smudged makeup.

“Mama?” A high pitched voice behind Y/N sounded. She turned around to see Juniper holding a crying Tallon’s hand. Juniper also looked like she had been crying, judging by the tear streaks on her cheeks.

“Oh, sweethearts, what happened?” Y/N took Tallon into her arms and he immediately clung to her. She kissed his dark curls and sat on the bed.

“You and Daddy don’t love each other anymore,” Juniper sniffled as if she was trying to hold back tears. She had to be strong for her younger brother. Y/N reached out her free arm and her young daughter stepped into it.

“What makes you think that, pumpkin?” Tallon rested his head on Y/N’s shoulder and began to suck his thumb.

“You and Daddy were not very nice to each other,” She answered solemnly, looking up at Y/N with her big doe eyes. She had the same eyes as Caspian and they melted Y/N’s heart every time.

“Oh, I’m sorry we woke you, sweetheart. Me and Daddy just disagreed about something, that’s all. We still love each other very, very much. And we love you two even more.” Y/N kissed Junipers temple. She always seemed to look more like Y/N, except for her eyes. Tallon, however, was a spitting image of his father. He had inherited Caspians hair, face structure, and eyes. Both had Caspians strong will and Y/N’s kind heart, making them both very polite and sweet kids.

Caspian knocks on the open door hesitantly. “May I come in?”

“Daddy!” Juniper yelled, rushing from Y/N and into his arms. She hadn’t seen him in over a week.

“Juni!” Caspian replied, scooping the young girl into his arms and attacking her face with kisses. She giggled loudly and hugged her father’s neck. Watching them together made Y/N smile and some of her distaste towards her husband melted away. Some. Caspian’s gaze met Y/N’s and he set his daughter down.

“Love, I’m sorry about what I said. I didn’t mean it.” He walked over and sat next to her on the bed. “I should prioritize my family, and I haven’t been. You all are so important to me.”

“So what are you going to do to fix it, Cas?”

“Well, I’m going to make sure to be home by six. That way I can have dinner and maybe read these monkeys a bedtime story.” He poked Tallon’s stomach and he squirmed.

“A bedtime story?” Juniper asks, a smile gracing her face.

Caspian sat in the big rocking chair in Tallon’s room. Juniper was situated on his lap and Tallon was nestled in his bed. The younger boy was already more than half asleep, but the girl was intent on hearing the story.

“Then, just as Princess Y/N was about to steal the evil Telmarine’s sword from his hand, another came and took hers!” Juni gasped with her hands in knuckles.

“Oh no! Does she die?!”

“No, because a handsome, dashing, chivalrous, brave man by the name of Prince Caspian-”

“Handsome? Dashing? Brave? More like annoying. Princess Y/N had it handled.” Y/N laughed fondly from her place leaning against the door frame. Juni erupted into a fit of giggles and Caspian shot Y/N a playful look before returning to his daughter.

“Anyway, as I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted… the handsome, dashing, chivalrous, daring Prince Caspian rode in on his horse and saved Princess Y/N. He pulled her onto his horse and together they defeated the evil Telmarines. Princess couldn’t help but fall in love with the Prince, and he the Princess, so the two got married and lived happily ever after. The end.”

“That’s it?! That’s the end?! What about the other Kings and Queens? Did they ever fall in love and get married?” Juni propelled herself off of Caspian’s lap and looked at her mom expectantly.

“That’s a story for another day, love. It’s time for bed, it’s way past your bedtime.” The eight-year-old whined and stomped into her room.

“Go put her down, I’ll be in our room.” Y/N told Caspian and walked out the door.

“Love, are you mad at me?” Caspian said as he entered. Y/N had already tucked herself into bed and had the light turned off.

“I’m not mad, I’m hurt.” Caspian rid himself of his day clothes and crawled into bed next to her, wrapping an arm around her waist.

“Babygirl, I’m sorry. I should have never said those things.” He kissed the back of Y/Ns shoulder.

“I know, but it still hurt. You’re never home anymore and I miss you. The kids miss you.”

“I promise I’ll be home earlier from now on. I let work get in the way of my family and that’s not okay.” Y/N turned to face him. While it was dark, she could still see his piercing eyes.

“You’re right, it’s not okay. But, I reacted badly too, and I’m sorry. I should have been more understanding of your schedule. I should have respected that you have responsibilities outside of home.”

“It’s alright, my love. I need to be here for my family. I love you, Y/N. Let’s get some sleep and talk more in the morning?” He kissed her forehead on his pillow, his hair sprawling out in every direction.

“I love you, Caspian. Sleep well.”

#caspian #prince caspian #king caspian #caspian x #prince caspian x reader #caspian x reader #king caspian x reader #prince caspian fanfic #prince caspian fanfiction #king caspian fanfic #king caspian fanfiction #the chronicles of narnia #the chronicles of narnia fanfic #the chronicles of narnia fanfiction #narnia #c. s. lewis #c.s. lewis

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dreadhaus-literature · 5 years

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{February Collection} #2

Marked

“If only life was fair, but I understand it’s not, that’s why you cannot love me...and why I cannot let you go.”

“It’s so cold here, Dottie, like you wouldn’t even believe. I had no clue Blüdhaven would be colder than Gotham!” Monica cradled her smartphone against her shoulder as she adjusted her purse strap, hearing her best friend clearly; it made her laugh as she answered. “The cold has nothing to do with the crime here--yes, I’m being safe. I promise.”

While Dot was known for being a worrier, and a might bit overprotective of her best friend, it was a warranted question. Monica had recently had to abruptly leave Gotham City under urging of the GCPD and the Batman himself. It wasn’t witness protection, but it was close, and the police had more or less confessed to her her that they couldn’t keep her safe from the threat that had popped up in her life. Batman had told her he would do his best to, but that in a city of millions...Monica understood what he wasn’t going to admit, and honestly it seemed the logical thing to do. Blüdhaven wasn’t too far from Gotham; she hadn’t even had to change jobs, simply transferred to the Blüdhaven location. She had taken the advisement of Commissioner Gordon and changed her name, however. Her new alias, Felina Frenzy, and her changing location in the middle of the night, would hopefully keep her off their radar. She’d only just begun sleeping through the night, again.

“Oh, shit--Dottie can I call you back?” Monica paused in the middle of her apartment hallway, her fingers coming up empty as she rooted around in her purse. “I can’t find my fucking keys and I’ve got to get these heels off soon before my toes fall off.”

“I’ll still love you without all your toes, but do what you gotta do, babygirl.” Dot sounded like she was blowing a kiss. “Text me when you’re in and settled, we’ll pick up where we left off with our Book Club.”

“I will. Bye, Dottie!”

“Bye, love.”

Monica tapped to end the call, dropping her phone in her purse before she started walking again, moving with purpose to her room at the end of the hall. Her green eyes were tipped down, her freshly dyed hair spilling over her shoulder as she rummaged through her purse. How was this possible? How was it, every single time she dropped her keys in her purse, they managed to drop into Narnia and disappear off this dimensional plane? She could never seem to manage to grab them without looking for them and she exhaled some of her frustration when she finally laid eyes and fingers on her ring of keys.

“There you are, little fuckers--”

Monica drew to a stop in front of her apartment door, her voice dying in her throat, her keys dangling uselessly from her limp hand, hardly believing what she was seeing. The white wood of her front door was stained, dripping with a gharish, horrifying smile painted, no doubt, in blood. It was fresh, glistening off the hallway lights, and it turned Monica’s blood to ice, her heart beginning to pound so loudly in her ears she was afraid it might burst. That might be preferable rather than facing the horror that was her reality. Was this...real? Was this really happening? Her therapist thought she could be suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder, so maybe she was hallucinating. Maybe this was just a result of her trying to readjust to feeling safe, she was just...she was just stressed out, a little anxious from the move and from...running away from the living nightmares in Gotham City. But the longer she stared at the smile, the longer she watched the blood slowly drip down the white panels of the door, the weaker her knees became. This wasn’t a hallucination. This wasn’t a waking nightmare. This was real, and she was in danger.

Flight or fight takes seconds to kick in, it’s an instinctual programming humans have, to help save their lives when shit hits the fan. Monica knew better than to fight, there was no conceivable way to win this, so the only thing to do was run. She kept a bag packed in her car just in case, all she had to do was turn and slowly back away from the door, the door hadn’t opened so they didn’t know she was here, she could get away, she could put some distance between them and her--

“Oh Monica~♫” The voice drifting from inside her apartment actually brought tears to her eyes; big, fearful tears of disbelief and fear. “We came all this way to see you. Won’t you come in?”

Monica shook her head on instinct, blinking back her tears as she took a single step backward from the door. It was a flimsy shield and it wouldn’t hold up but it was all she had.

“If you don’t come in here,” the voice sounded less...happy than before. Patience had never been his strong suit. “I am going to send them out to get you, and you know what might happen if they think you’re running from us again.”

Monica knew all too well what they were capable of, and that fear was what spurred her forward, knowing she wouldn’t need the keys she’d worked so hard to find. The door was unlocked, beckoning to her, because they never liked anything to keep them apart from her.

“Welcome home, sweetheart!”

It was such a cheerful greeting, raw, affectionate emotion in The Joker’s voice but Monica knew him well enough to know there were a million secrets behind that tone. He was standing in her kitchen, across the room but directly in front of the door so that he was the first thing she saw when the door opened. Behind him, Monica could see one of the duo he called his Punchlines; Adrian Jaroslav. It took her a moment to find the second, but she heard the door close behind her and turned to see the twin, Aleksei Jaroslav, standing between her and freedom--where they have been firmly planted for the last year.

The Joker and his Punchlines were the reason Monica had to leave her life in Gotham City and start over in Blüdhaven. They were the reason she likely had PTSD, they were the reason she had not one, but two alarm systems. They were the reason she dyed her hair, the reason she couldn’t wear red lipstick without thinking of them, they were...they were everything, exactly as they’d set out to be, because they considered her their everything. Like a disease, they infected her life and nothing seemed to be able to keep them out. Not the GCPD, not Batman, nothing could keep them away from her. She didn’t even know what had started this insane obsession but there was no other word for it; they were obsessed with her. It didn’t matter what anyone did; throwing them in Arkham Asylum only slowed them down but it didn’t stop them. The Asylum had reported to the GCPD that anytime Joker or his Twins were in captivity, they intercepted dozens of letters every week from The Joker or the Jaroslav Twins trying to send mail to her. Joker bit his finger bloody and wrote her name on his cell wall so many times it was all anyone could see; Adrian carved her name into his skin with anything he could get his hands on and Aleks? Aleks only spoke when he was talking about Monica; he wouldn’t say a word otherwise. Their obsession was sick, it was perverse, but it was also dangerously devoted and Monica tried not to shrink away when Aleksei buried his face in her hair, inhaling deeply with a noise that made her shiver. She knew without anyone having to tell her that there was nowhere in the world she could go that they wouldn’t follow. She didn’t even know how they’d found her--no one was supposed to know where she was.The only tie she hadn’t severed was Dot, and she was obviously fine and hadn’t told anyone where Monica was. So how...?

“Aren’t you happy to see us, darling? We came all the way from Gotham just for you!” Joker extended his arms, that blood red smile sickeningly sweet because he was just so happy to finally see her again. “Don’t worry, don’t worry! Come here, come here. I’m not mad at you. We’re not upset with you, are we boys?”

Joker took a few long-strided steps forward, holding out his gloved hands for Monica and she knew better than to resist--when he wanted her, he would have her. By force, if that was the only way. She put her trembling hands in his, and her lips rolled under when she felt his kiss against her temple.

“Tell her we’re not upset with her, boys. She’s scared, trembling like a little bunny.” Joker swept his other arm around Monica’s petite frame, his gloved fingers moving up to her hair in a gesture that mimicked comfort--but there was no hiding his sadistic enjoyment that she was afraid. Any emotion she could give him, give them, was like heroin. They were addicted to it.

“We’re not upset with you, Monica.”

The Jaroslav twins answered in unison, their thick accents and deep voices nearly forcing the tears over Monica’s cheeks.

“See, sweetheart? You don’t need to worry, we’re not going to kill you for leaving--we may have to break you fucking legs later but that isn’t because we’re angry. We were worried about you! Adrian was so worried, he really wanted to hurt you, you know,” Joker turned Monica in his arms so she could see the older twin, who was staring at her with eyes so blue they were white. Adrian had The Joker’s red smile painted over his mouth but he wasn’t smiling. He was staring at Monica like he owned every inch of her and in time, he was going to prove that--Monica had no doubt he would. He’d done it before. “Aleks, though,” The Joker then turned Monica toward the younger twin, who was stalking around the kitchen table to see her better. “Aleks said we shouldn’t, we should give you a chance to explain why you left. Do you want to tell us why, sweetheart? Do you want to tell Daddy and his boys why you ran away?”

“I-I...” Monica swallowed, her fear a tangible lodge in her throat she couldn’t hope to dispel.

“You what, sweet girl, you’re sorry? Do you think she means she’s sorry, boys? Sorry for hurting our feelings? For running away from us?” Joker’s attention shifted but only slightly; it was never off Monica, no matter what. Her hair was simply so...beautifully different, he couldn’t take his eyes off it. He lifted his gloved hand, allowing the dyed strands to cascade through his fingers like water. “Silver, Monica? Did you do this just for us? Getting all dolled up for when Daddy comes home? You shouldn’t have!”

“I like it.” Aleksei spoke up, keeping true to his psychosis. If it wasn’t about Monica, he didn’t say a word, but he could talk about her until his throat was raw and bleeding. “You look beautiful, Monica.”

“Doesn’t she? Doesn’t she look beautiful, Adrian?” Joker encouraged, smoothing her hair away from her face. “Daddy’s beautiful babydoll.”

Monica was doing her best not to cry, trembling out of fear and the disbelief that they’d caught up to her so soon. Aleksei would be on her the moment she started crying, though, licking the tears off her face while trying to get her to touch him. He was starved for attention; Adrian had always stolen it from him, stolen their parents’ love so he never got any of it and now, as an adult, he was so touch-starved sometimes he couldn’t let Monica out of bed when he had her. He may be younger but he was no less tall, strong, or insane than his brother; the two looked so much alike there was only one way to tell them apart when looking at them--Aleks only painted a half-smile on his face, rather than the full smile Adrian wore. Monica had never asked why but he’d told her all the same, told her it was because he only smiled half-way when she wasn’t around. Right now, the painted smile matched the one on Aleksei’s face; he was devouring Monica with his eyes and she could see his fingers were twitching with his need to touch her and be touched in return. He was going to eat her alive when he finally got his hands on her again. Out of the trio, Aleksei was by far the most needy, and he was so masochistic it didn’t matter what Monica did to him, he soaked it all up. She could cry, scream, kick, fight, hit him and he shuddered and fucked her harder, thanking her for loving him so much.

Adrian was more like Joker, a sadist of the highest order. He wouldn’t tolerate Monica lashing out at him, and he squashed her temper by meeting it with a temper so cold it reminded her of the Russian winter. He was ruthless, brutal, cruel in the way he took every inch of her and left nothing for herself or anyone who wasn’t Joker or his twin. Monica didn’t own herself, Adrian did. He wouldn’t allow her any privacy, he wouldn’t allow her any space; she was going to love him and he didn’t care what he had to do to get that love. He didn’t care if her hand trembled when she brushed his hair; he handed her the brush and sat in front of her an expected her affection. He didn’t care if she cried when he fucked her, claimed her, because she still fell asleep so full of him her middle was swollen. Monica belonged to him. She was his. He’d killed more orderlies than Arkham had to spare because those fucking idiots kept telling him that Monica wasn’t his, that he didn’t own her, that you can’t own another person--well, what had that gotten them? A razor to their fucking throats, their tongue bitten out of their mouths for lying. Monica belonged to Adrian and no one was going to keep them apart. Not even Monica. If he had to break her legs, if he had to cut them off to keep her--he would. So she’d better get with the fucking program and remember who owned every inch of her beautiful, breakable body.

Joker was the leader of this terrible trio, and that came with obvious perks--perks like first rights on their most favorite possession in the world. The crazed menace from Gotham had never had all his marbles--or maybe he had, who really knew, but now the only thing he had was a dangerous fixation on one woman, a woman who would never, ever escape him. She was precious for trying, he had to commend her efforts and maybe he should even reward her for keeping the game fun! After all, he’s never been to Blüdhaven before; maybe he would make this his new base of operations, maybe it was time to give Ol’ Batsy a break. If Monica wanted to live in Blüdhaven, well, he wasn’t a total selfish prick. He could accommodate his beautiful doll, give her a little of what she wanted. After all, she gave him so much in return. Her tears, her laughter, that tight, sweet, beckoning cunt--oh, how he missed her cunt. He was going to rip her open and hollow her out soon, remind her who it belonged to, who she belonged to, because it seemed she forgot. It seemed the change of location might have gotten her a little...confused about how it works between the four of them. To Joker, to the Jaroslavs, it was simple; she belonged to them, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for-fucking-ever. Monica would never be permitted to die because a corpse can only do so much; no, no, she was going to live and she was going to stay with them forever.

“We got you flowers, Monica.” Aleksei moved a little closer, gesturing to the expensive...blood-spattered flowers on her kitchen table. He met her gaze over the blossoming lilies. “Do you like them? Tell me you like them.”

“I-I...I l-like them,” Monica nodded, giving Aleksei a smile that nearly stopped his heart; he hung off every one of her gestures like a puppy. “T-Thank you, they’re beautiful.”

“You’re beautiful.” The twins answered her at the same time, speaking in their unnerving unison as if they shared one conscious mind. Adrian didn’t seem to have moved a muscle, not even to blink, and Monica couldn’t hold his gaze.

“Ain’t that sweet. The boys missed you, baby. Daddy missed you. Did you miss us?”

Monica nodded again, not trusting herself to speak steadily enough to answer.

“Good girl, of course you did. Well don’t worry.” Joker moved in front of Monica, cupping her face with his hands and pulling her up onto her toes to claim her mouth. The kiss was violent, passionate, tinged with desperation and a claim that seared Monica down to her toes. When he drew back, she was gasping, her chest burning...and not just for air. He raked his crazed, possessive gaze over her upturned face. “We’re here, now, and we’re never going to leave you.”

That...was what she was afraid of.

#{theme} : for monica #{collection} : february 2019 #{character} : the joker #{character} : adrian jaroslav #{character} : aleksei jaroslav }#{ YEAAAAAAH BOI I FUCKING NAILED THIS SHIT }#{ OVER HERE KILLIN' THE GAME }

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hickorycreekrp-blog · 7 years

Photo

Out of Character:

Name/Alias: Liv

Pronouns: She/Her

Age: 22

Timezone: EST

Face Claim Preferences: Amandla Stenberg

Character Basics:

Full Name: Lydia Rose Palmer

Nicknames/Prefers: Occasionally called Lyds

Age: 19

Occupation: Waitress at Eastern Delights

Pronouns: She/Her typically, they/them depending on who she’s with or her mood

Gender: Non-binary (only very recently out to more than just her closest friends and family; still figuring it out)

Hometown: Hickory Creek

Current Neighborhood: Hickory Square

Highest Education: Getting her associate’s at the college in Greene Hills

Religion: Methodist; Her mother attends local AME church every Sunday but Lydia’s never bought into it. She let her daughters decide when they were each ten whether or not they wanted to keep coming with her.

Family and Relationships:

Parents: Teresa Palmer (Mom; 44), Charlie Anderson (Uncle; 38), Jack Anderson (Uncle; 36)

Siblings: Ava Nicole Palmer (deceased)

Children: N/A

Other: Lucy Ava Palmer (Niece/essentially daughter; 14 months)

Pets: Cactus the cat

Sexual Orientation: Lesbian

Romantic Orientation: Homoromantic

Marital Status: Single

Personality:

Favorite Film: She’ll say Jaws but it’s probably really American Beauty

Favorite TV Show: Parks and Recreation

Favorite Book: The Chronicles of Narnia (as a child she used to daydream about disappearing into some fantastical world. Ava and her would pretend all the time that their closet was a way into Narnia. There’s still a crayon drawing Ava did of a door on the back wall of the closet. Ava would be Susan and Lydia was Lucy. They got into a petty fight over this once, since Lydia wanted to be the one with the bow and arrow but Ava explained that she had to have it so she could protect her little sister from the White Witch)

Favorite Song: Wait for it, Leslie Odom Jr. and Dirty Gold, Angel Haze

Favorite Color: Blue

Likes: Summer, car windows rolled down, chocolate, family, snuggies, swimming

Dislikes: Gossip, small towns, drunks, Mondays, heels, rude tourists, spiders

History:

TW: gender identity issues, pregnancy, death (I apologize in advance for the grossly overused trope)

People talk, especially in a small town, whether or not there’s anything to talk about. Her mom always said that you may as well give them something to talk about then. Growing up, Lydia disagreed. The Palmers slash Andersons had already given Hickory Creek more than enough gossip to last a lifetime; Lydia refused to add to it. Between the scandal with her father (which was a nice way of saying he ran off with his secretary years ago, leaving behind his two young children), her mom’s eccentricities, her uncles’ relationship, and Ava, Hickory didn’t need her. Over the years, as a comfort, as an excuse for her cowardice, she told herself that they didn’t deserve her. Ava changed everything though.

Lydia was three and Ava was five when their father disappeared, only a note and the clothes he didn’t deem important enough to pack left behind, well, and his family too, of course. The details of his scandalous affair would unravel publicly in the following weeks. As it turned out, most of the town had already known about it, more than Mrs. Palmer had. For several years, on their birthdays, a card from Miami, Florida would arrive from him with a ten-dollar bill inside, until even that stopped. Lydia and Ava never missed him; they always had more than enough family around with their uncle and his husband living with them.

When Lydia started kindergarten, the other mothers whispered together, (that’s the youngest Palmer kid. Can you imagine just up and abandoning those girls? Well, I mean, have you met Teresa? She’s an odd bird. I’m sure that was part of it. And, you know, her brother and his partner live with them. That can’t be a good environment for those kids. I don’t know about that. My neighbor’s son is in the same class as the older one and she said she seems like a very nice girl, a bit of hoot, actually.). Lydia was just old enough to be aware of some of this. At the very least, she did know that people would always compare her with Ava. It was hard not to know when it was most teachers’ first comment to her, (you’re much quieter than your sister, Honey. Is everything okay?). This wasn’t news to Lydia; she’d accepted from an early age that she paled in comparison to Ava the star, funny, boisterous, beautiful. Ava took after their mother and Lydia after her Uncle Charlie. In another scenario, this might have created tension and jealousy between the girls but instead Ava and Lydia were incredibly close. It was Ava and Lydia, Lydia and Ava, inseparable, always. They were each other’s best friends and confidantes.

Lydia was just quieter by nature, but the perfectly average grades, average appearance, average hobbies, were also an attempt to disappear. Lydia grew up trying to make sure she gave Hickory no reason to talk about her. It was Ava, more than anyone else in their family, who hated this because she knew there was more to Lydia than she chose to reveal. She tried to urge Lydia to be herself, to just ignore what people said. It was easier said than done though. At some point during high school, Lydia decided that once she moved away from Hickory, away from the people who’d known her and her family forever, then she would start over, be herself, theirself, herself, whatever. She hadn’t quite figured it out.

She was twelve when she first started occasionally getting a twitchy feeling after being referred to as a girl and fourteen before she dared doing any research. Boy wasn’t right either, at least, not always. It was a relief to find out that she didn’t have to be either, that there were other people that struggled with it. She explained it first, haltingly, to Ava who told her she was free to be whoever. Later that same week, Ava, presented her with a pair of basketball shorts and a binder, as well as, a cute sundress. Lydia loved the gesture but, all the same, she’d tucked the binder into the back of her t-shirt drawer. Being brave, being theirself, wasn’t worth it. Ava, sweet, perfect Ava, just hugged her close and promised to be right there, beside her, whenever she decided she was ready.

(Ava died two years later. She was not right there. She never would be again. It was the first promise she broke.)

After her high school graduation, Ava stayed in Hickory, unlike Lydia she loved it and she was hardly about to move away from their family. She got a job working as a secretary for Hickory Creek Medical, which was where she met Connor, a freshman at NYU on summer break with his frat brothers. The two spent most of his two-week vacation in a whirlwind affair. It was only a summer fling. Except, except, that a month after he left Ava realized she was pregnant. After a long conversation with their family, Ava chose to keep the baby but decided she didn’t want to get in contact with Connor.

With a niece on the way, Lydia almost changed her mind about leaving town the moment she graduated but Ava refused to let her change her plans. As a compromise, Lydia only applied to colleges that weren’t too far away. Her acceptance to Boston College, her top choice, came during the sixth month of Ava’s pregnancy. Hickory Creek was talking about them again but for once in Lydia’s life she didn’t care. It was impossible not feel happy with Ava glowing and her own freedom in reach.

Lydia was in AP Statistics when one of the ninth grade English teachers, also their next-door neighbor, stuck her head in the door and told Lydia to grab her stuff. She glanced down at her phone as she hurriedly grabbed her bag and saw a list of missed calls from her family, everyone but Ava. Heart thudding heavily, in her chest, her throat, her temple, she left the classroom. The moment the door shut, she asked, what’s wrong. It was late enough in the pregnancy that Ava could’ve just been in early labor but Lydia could tell from the missed calls, from the pallid look on Mrs. Price’s face that that wasn’t the case.

Mrs. Price drove her to the hospital as Lydia talked to her Uncle on the phone. The doctor said that Ava had a placenta abruption and that they were doing an emergency c-section. He said the doctor was hopeful both baby and mom would be fine. It was details like that Lydia would still be able to remember with crystal clarity years later. That and the nauseating anesthetic smell of the surgery waiting room, the ridiculous bunny slippers her mother was wearing, the gum wrapper on the floor beside the trashcan, the bright blue of the doctor’s scrubs.

When the doctor came out hours later, face a careful arrangement of detached sympathy, she said Ava had hemorrhaged. They couldn’t save her. Lydia vomited in the trashcan, eyes fixed on the gum wrapper, and decided that nobody should be able to use a word like hemorrhage.

(There is no way, no metaphor, to truly describe what it’s like to be standing in a hospital waiting room, a bunch of eyes on you, as you try to understand that the person you love is gone.)

For two days, Lydia sat there in the waiting room and everyone let her. No one dared tell her she needed to eat or get up or anything. They could see the crater that had been left behind.

Around lunch on the third day, she went to the cafeteria with her family. After she ate, Lydia let them take her to meet her niece. She was healthy and beautiful and what was left of Ava. The name card on her bassinet read Babygirl Palmer. They’d waited for Lydia to name her because they understood already, without having to ask, that the baby was Lydia’s in the same way that Ava and Lydia had belonged to each other.

Lucy Ava, Lydia said quietly as she reached down and picked up the little girl. It was her turn to be the protector.

At the funeral days later, Lydia wore a rainbow t-shirt and jean skirt and carefully held Lucy in her arms. Hickory Creek was talking about all of them and finally, finally Lydia could feel what the rest of her family, what Ava, had always felt, fuck them.

#Amandla Stenberg fc #character: nonbinary #character: hickory square #hickorycreek lydia palmer #character: 10s

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twistedstorm · 6 years

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All of the questions for that last ask meme thing you reblogged, not the luxury one but the other one

Hey thanks for sending this anon! Here we go!

0: Height? 5′7″1: Virgin? Nope, not since last week…..It’s been a weird few weeks for me2: Shoe size? 9 and a half3: Do you smoke? Nope4: Do you drink? Yeah sometimes 5: Do you take drugs? I take adderallk daily for my adhd but otherwise no6: Age you get mistaken for? 16 or 20-ish7: Have tattoos? One, it’s not done yet because color is expensive though8: Want any tattoos? I have at least five more planned9: Got any piercings? My ears10: Want any piercings? I wanna get my lip pierced someday11: Best friend? Toss up between my soul sibs, my ginger artist, my cousin, and my boyfriend12: Relationship status? Dating a total geek13: Biggest turn ons? Good gods there’s a lot….hair pulling, spanking, dirty talk, being called “my pet” “babygirl” “kitten”, hickeys, grinding, apparently choking, biting, dominating or being dominated, being praised, etc14: Biggest turn offs? Sooooooo many things are on this list. Degradation, daddy kink, anything involving my ass (spanking notwithstanding), blood, etc15: Favorite movie? Boondock saints, Moana, or Saved16: I’ll love you if? You bring me food or cuddle me and play with my hair17: Someone you miss? My cousin Eva18: Most traumatic experience? Lets not talk about it19: A fact about your personality? I’m a very easy ta talk to person 20: What I hate most about myself? My constant anxiety 21: What I love most about myself? My newfound self confidence 22: What I want to be when I get older? Makeup artist 23: My relationship with my sibling(s)? Kinda rough right now24: My relationship with my parent(s)? Also pretty rough right now25: My idea of a perfect date? Subway, Buffy marathon, cuddling, fucking, more cuddling, more Buffy, sleep26: My biggest pet peeves? I have too many 27: A description of the girl/boy I like? Total sweetheart geek boy who knows how ta turn me on in two seconds flat and drives me up the wall while melting my heart with so much love and affection that it’s almost gross28: A description of the person I dislike the most? My mother29: A reason I’ve lied to a friend? Preserve their feelings 30: What I hate the most about work/school? Other humans31: What your last text message says? “Goodnight Tiger, love you like crazy, hope you have sweet dreams”32: What words upset me the most? Anything bigoted 33: What words make me feel the best about myself? “You look beautiful today and I cherish every moment with you” 34: What I find attractive in women? Sweet personality, sense of humor, nice hair, pretty eyes, shorter than me, very gay 35: What I find attractive in men? Sweet personality, sense of humor, nice hair, pretty eyes, taller than me, very gay 36: Where I would like to live? Narnia or possibly just like in Vancouver but like in a nice house with my boyfriend and my wife and our cat and lizard37: One of my insecurities? I hate my mismatched ears38: My childhood career choice? Vampire princess 39: My favorite ice cream flavor? Vanilla40: Who wish I could be? Just me but cooler with money and shapeshifting powers and a job41: Where I want to be right now? In my boyfriends bed in my pjs cuddling with him and falling asleep 42: The last thing I ate? Turkey and cheese sandwich 43: Sexiest person that comes to my mind immediately? My boyfriend 44: A random fact about anything? Heinz patented their ketchup formula because it activates all the flavor zones of you tongue and that’s why it’s the best tasting ketchup you can get

Alright thank you again dear fabtastic anon for sending this!

Back to your own world now

Signed your most bodacious blog owner

~ZZ

#ZZ answers stuff

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