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shadowtriovibes · 1 year

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it's a sign of the times

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x f!MC

Rating: PG

Word Count: 3.2K

Summary: request [paraphrased]: "Rivals-to-lovers Sebastian and MC use a Time-Turner to travel to the future with Ominis in search for a cure for Anne. Instead they find a girl who's the spitting image of MC trying to sneak into the Restricted Section in the 1910s, only she has freckles like Sebastian..."

the 'verse continues in "the train ain't even left the station" [AO3]

“Anne-Marie Sallow!” she calls out. “Just where do you think you’re going?” At once, the three of you freeze. “Did she say ‘Sallow?’” hisses Ominis. “Did I hear that right?” “I – no. No,” Sebastian stammers. “There’s no way that’s what she said.”

“Can you please remind me again why I’m even a part of this harebrained scheme?” you ask for at least the third time.

You’re crouched around a small table in one of the far corners of the upper section of the Library. It’s well past curfew, but since you aren’t technically breaking any rules by avoiding the Restricted Section, you’re currently getting away with your loitering, as do most students who are caught studying after hours this close to final exams.

Only, you’re not studying. You’ve been summoned there by Ominis, who despite being your closest friend at Hogwarts is also a conniving, duplicitous liar who neglected to tell you that this whole thing is Sebastian’s idea.

You watch warily as he turns over a contraband Time-Turner in his hands, inspecting its impossibly small dials and knobs. The golden sands inside the hourglass hypnotically shift back and forth while he reads over its inscriptions and consults the guidebook he’d smuggled out of the Restricted Section earlier that same day.

You have no idea where he managed to get the device – perhaps in one of those vaults along the coast in Cragcroftshire that he’d been exploring during the summer term. However, now he’s got it in his head that perhaps the reason you haven’t been able to heal Anne is that the cure to her curse simply hasn’t been invented yet. Therefore, a quick jaunt several years into the future ought to reveal a way to rid Anne of her illness (and maybe even earn his way back into her good graces).

It’s not the first ludicrous and impractical idea he’s had in the past year, nor will it be the last, but it’s certainly one of the more radical ones.

“Merlin’s beard, I’ve already told you,” Sebastian sighs. “Since we’re going forward in time rather than back, this is an unauthorized use, and in case we get stuck in the future, we might need your ancient magic.”

“So I’m an insurance policy?!” you demand.

“Not so much for Sebastian as for me,” Ominis answers plainly. “He thinks he’s got it all sorted out, but I’m not as sure.”

“I know what I’m doing,” Sebastian interjects.

You huff and roll your eyes. “Need I remind you that using a Time-Turner to go forward is expressly forbidden by the Ministry? It’s only to go back.”

“Loads of people have done it, though,” he argues. “I’ve been reading all about it, it’s well-documented.”

“And they’ve all come back to the present?” you demand.

“Yes,” he snaps. “...For the most part.”

You scoff. Unbelievable.

“Do you two honestly think my magic is just an unlimited get-out-of-Azkaban-free pass?” you hiss. “I have no idea how to manipulate time and space. If we get stuck there, we’re stuck there.”

“I’m sure you’ll figure something out like you always do,” Sebastian mutters distractedly as he fiddles with the Time-Turner.

You glance at Ominis pleadingly and he just shrugs.

“You know we can’t let him go alone, we’ll never get him back,” Ominis reasons.

“Is that such a bad thing?” you grumble.

Sebastian shoots you a warning look before he holds up the Time-Turner for the both of you to inspect.

“I have it set to jump forward twenty years,” he explains. “We’ll have to get cozy before we go, as we’ve all got to be wearing it. Physically, we’ll land precisely where we are now, at the same time of day.”

“What if the layout of the Library changes?” you ask skeptically.

“The castle hasn’t changed in centuries,” Ominis points out. “Compared to its history, two decades is indeed quite short.”

“...Fine,” you finally mumble. “Go on, then. Let’s get this over with.”

The three of you stand in a tight circle in a spot tucked away behind some shelves, hoping to remain hidden there after you make the jump forward in time. Sebastian drapes the thin gold chain connected to the Time-Turner around the three of you; it even seems to stretch and extend in length to fit. Then he murmurs a brief incantation to the enchanted timepiece and spins the innermost piece a whopping twenty times.

Your stomach lurches while it turns over and the world around you seems to spin out of control, almost like one of those Muggle carousel rides you saw once as a child. You can barely make out years and years of students and professors walking around you – through you, even – and countless books sliding on and off the shelves until everything comes to a sudden halt and you fall straight to the floor.

Ominis and Sebastian tumble with you, winded.

“That felt bizarre,” Ominis wheezes. “Where are we? Did we travel anywhere?”

“N-no,” Sebastian breathes. “Everything else just… traveled around us.”

You glance around the Library and see that as Ominis had suggested, it looks largely the same. There are some newer books among those you recognize on the shelves, their spines less creased and dyed with more vibrant colors than those of your time.

One title jumps out at you: Advances in Practical Conjuring, 1900-1910

We’re in the 1910s, you think bewilderedly. We’re in a new century.

Mercifully, the layout of the library seems to be largely unchanged. Rows and rows of dimly lit stacks stretch along the length of the grand room with two winding spiral staircases leading down to the lower level.

Once you catch your breath, the three of you cast Disillusionment on yourselves and huddle together to make your way downstairs to the Restricted Section. Ominis leads the way with his wand extended to search for any lingering students or restless ghosts, having long since proven that his spatial awareness bests both yours and Sebastian’s even without his sight.

Your trio makes it downstairs and past the first row of shelves before Ominis stops in his tracks. Sebastian collides with him and then you knock into Sebastian, causing you both to hiss some choice words at each other.

“What’s going on?” you demand in a whisper.

“Someone just came in,” Ominis explains. “The librarian is at the desk and she hasn’t noticed, but a student is coming down the stairs.”

Sure enough, across the room you see a faint flicker of light and can just barely make out the outline of a small student sneaking down the main stairs – must be a young one, you think, no more than thirteen.

“I think it’s a girl,” you offer. “I can see her just over there.”

“What’s she doing?” Sebastian whispers.

“I’m not sure yet,” Ominis says carefully. “She’s past the desk, the librarian didn’t see – oh, for Merlin’s sake.”

“What is it?” you breathe.

“She’s going straight for the Restricted Section,” Ominis mutters. “Just our luck, I suppose.”

The three of you remain crouched behind the shelf while you watch the girl creep ever closer to your hiding spot. You’re panicking inside your head, wondering what possible seams of the universe might immediately be torn to shreds if she were to spot the three of you, but thankfully she seems single-minded in her mission to gain access to the locked collection of books across the room from you.

“She’s tiny,” Sebastian snorts. “I suppose the young ones are even more bold in the future.”

“Weren’t you about her age when you first started to sneak into the Restricted Section?” Ominis reminds him.

Sebastian insists, “No, I was fourteen. I didn’t go in until Anne was attacked. She’s got to be twelve at most, maybe even a first year.”

“Will you two be quiet?” you hiss. “She’s going to hear you!”

Across the room, the Disillusioned girl pulls a key out of the pocket of her robes and starts to insert it into the lock. A girl her age wouldn’t have mastered Alohomora yet, you think, nor would it be effective on this kind of lock. You have no idea how she managed to get a copy of the key, however.

“Do you suppose we could just go in after her?” Sebastian proposes. “She’s nearly got it open, we should take advantage of that.”

“Are you mad?” you scoff. “We can’t be in there at the same time, we’ll get caught!”

“So what if some little girl from the future sees us?” Sebastian argues. “Why wouldn’t she believe we’re just students from her time doing our own research?”

But before you can further explain to Sebastian how astonishingly stupid that idea is, the girl across the room gasps softly and drops her key to the floor. In front of her, the lock is glowing red as if it’s searing hot.

That’s a new security development from your time, you think. It’s rather lucky the three of you didn’t discover that the hard way.

Immediately, the young librarian leaps from her seat and hustles across the room to the Restricted Section’s gated entrance much faster than Madam Scribner ever would have.

“Hang on…” you say under your breath. “Is that – that’s Sophronia!”

“Who?” Ominis asks.

“Sophronia Franklin, she’s a fourth-year in our time,” you explain distractedly. “She’s always lingering in the library, of course she takes over for Scribner once we finish school.”

“I know her,” Sebastian chimes in. “Tried to get me to play a game of trivia in exchange for returning a book on curse breaking I’d been waiting for. Rather precocious, I thought.”

You glare at Sebastian and he merely rolls his eyes.

“I didn’t mean it in a flirtatious way, I was referring to her choice in books,” he grumbles. “Merlin, you’re protective of her.”

“She’s a sweet girl,” you murmur, appreciative of the fact that Sebastian can’t see you blushing. Truthfully, you don’t think much about Sophronia these days, other than that she absolutely cannot catch the three of you in her Library as she’ll easily understand what you’re up to.

Before you can try to convince the boys to call it quits and return to the present, Sophronia rounds the corner and the girl’s Disillusionment charm melts away in surprise.

“Anne-Marie Sallow!” she calls out. “Just where do you think you’re going?”

At once, the three of you freeze.

“Did she say ‘Sallow?’” hisses Ominis. “Did I hear that right?”

“I – no. No,” Sebastian stammers. “There’s no way that’s what she said.”

“Apologies, Madam,” you hear the girl say with a cheeky lilt to her voice. “I was just looking for a book for my aunt, that’s all.”

Just then, Sophronia leans down to pick up the dropped key and all three of you catch a glimpse of the young girl’s face. She’s probably around twelve, like Sebastian had guessed, but her face… Merlin, she could be your younger sister.

Her slightly-upturned nose is nearly identical to yours, only she’s got a small smattering of freckles across hers. Then there’s her chin, which juts out just a bit like yours does, and you’re too far away to make out the color of her eyes but you’re positive that they’re almond-shaped just like your own.

Now that you think about it, her hair is tied back like you always did with yours when you were younger – braided with a green bow at the end, only her hair is a rich, warm brown color.

“...Is that you?” Sebastian asks softly. “How. How are you doing this?”

“That’s not me, I’m right here,” you remind him.

“Hold on, what am I missing?” Ominis whispers.

“That girl looks exactly like this one,” Sebastian insists. “She’s got her nose, her eyes, her face shape. It’s like there’s a second-year version of her, standing right across from us.”

“We’re twenty years into the future,” Ominis reminds you both. “...What if she’s your daughter?”

You feel like the room is starting to spin around you again, and you find yourself pitching to the side before Sebastian quickly tugs on your arm and pulls you back behind the shelf.

“Do not go daft on us now,” he mutters. “I don’t care if that is your daughter–”

“She’s your daughter too, you know,” Ominis chimes in. “In case you were wondering.”

“Wh… What?” Sebastian stutters, and Ominis gestures for the two of you to listen in.

“Goodness, Miss Sallow,” Sophronia sighs. “You really are so much like your father, always sneaking into the Restricted Section.”

You watch as the girl puffs up her chest proudly, a mischievous smirk on her face that doesn’t strike you as particularly like you at all – but rather Sebastian.

“I’ll gladly take that as a compliment, Madam Franklin,” Anne-Marie says.

“While I respect that you are both voracious consumers of knowledge, he, like you, had little respect for the rules of the Restricted Section,” Sophronia continues. “I’ll have to ask you to leave until you get permission from a professor for relevant research or turn fifteen.”

Anne-Marie is still arguing with the librarian as she’s being escorted out. “Perhaps if you would just let me borrow the book for a while–”

“I’m afraid I’ll also have to give you detention this time,” Sophronia interjects. “I can’t keep looking the other way simply because I owe your mother a favor. This is the third time this term!”

Anne-Marie huffs and folds her arms. “But my godfather–”

“Your godfather is a very busy man who would undoubtedly appreciate it if you spent more time staying out of trouble,” Sophronia finishes, “than trying to emulate your father. In fact, I think Ominis would agree with me that one Sebastian Sallow in this world is quite enough!”

Well, that certainly clears things up.

Sophoronia marches Anne-Marie up the stairs and out of the library. The three of you, having already forgotten your original mission, put your heads together without a word so Sebastian can drape the Time-Turner around your necks and return you to the present.

You collapse in a heap on the library floor, but this time it’s fully empty – even the librarian’s desk light is extinguished. You sit in silence for a few moments, and you and Sebastian don’t dare look at each other. Eventually you force yourself to stand and offer Ominis a hand up, steadfastly ignoring the other boy.

“So,” Ominis finally says, barely concealing his smile. “When exactly is it, do you suppose, that the two of you fall hopelessly in love with each other?”

You both curse at him at the same time, and Ominis throws back his head and laughs.

“Shout at me all you want, but that little girl is proof that the two of you are destined for each other,” he crows. “Oh, how brilliant!”

“Come now, Ominis,” Sebastian says with a nervous laugh. “You don’t seriously think that girl is, what… our child or something?”

“That’s precisely what I think,” Ominous answers, smirking. “You said it yourself, she looks exactly like her mother.”

“Stop!” you interject. “I’m not anyone’s mother, in case you forgot.”

“Perhaps not yet,” Ominis agrees primly. “I imagine it will be several more years before Sebastian makes you one.”

Sebastian goes deeply red while you sputter indignantly.

“Thats – that’s foul, Ominis,” you insist. “It’s untoward to even be talking about this!”

Sebastian folds his arms and raises an eyebrow. “Really? You’re that offended by the very idea of us having a child together? I’m hurt.”

“W-well, I just meant that we shouldn’t talk about things that haven’t yet come to pass,” you explain nervously. “Besides, all that is years away. Decades, even.”

Sebastian glances sidelong at you, and you wonder if you’re imagining the way he looks you up and down.

“Right,” he says slowly. “It’s not like we know anything for sure, obviously.”

“Of course,” you agree. “...I don’t suppose you have any other family members named Sebastian? Distant relatives, perhaps?”

“Why?” he drawls. “Looking to snag a cousin of mine so I won’t be the one to father your children?”

You shove him right into one of the bookshelves, but he laughs like he doesn’t regret it one bit.

“Now now,” Ominis murmurs. “You ought to be kind to your future husband, you don’t want to damage his virility.”

“I have half a mind to put a dent in Sebastian’s virility right here and now to save me some trouble later,” you reply, casually aiming your wand at his groin.

“Have you gone mad?!” he stammers as he takes several steps backward. “Put that thing away!”

“Oh, will you please relax?” you sigh. “We just saw one of your descendants, your ability to procreate is in no danger.”

“You could still put me in the Hospital Wing,” he sulks. “Besides, it’s not just procreation that I use it for.”

Ominis snorts. “Unfortunately, I am intimately aware of that.”

You make a face while Sebastian grins cheekily, offering no apology.

The three of you start to make your way toward the exit into Central Hall, ignoring the weak protests of the prefects stationed outside. As you make your way back toward the Slytherin common room, you all fall silent again, lost in your thoughts.

You aren’t sure how you’re supposed to forget what you saw, you think. In the future, you have a daughter. Her father is Sebastian Sallow, and… and she’s brilliant. Beautiful, courageous, more than a bit headstrong, and as determined as you both are if not more so.

You catch yourself actually grinning, and when you glance over at Sebastian, you see the same expression on his face.

“Anything you care to share?” you ask him.

“I know we probably shouldn’t talk about it,” he starts, “but there is one thing that girl said that I won’t soon forget.”

“What’s that?” you ask.

He’s quiet for a moment, and then he admits, “I heard her say she’s looking for a book for her aunt, and you haven’t got any sisters.”

You smile softly and reach for Sebastian’s hand. “No, I don’t.”

He lets you take his hand in his to give a reassuring squeeze.

“She’s still alive,” Sebastian says quietly. “She… she’s still sick, probably. But she’s still alive in the future. She meets my daughter, and she knows her.”

“She does,” you say. “And – and maybe we don’t quite know how that happens yet, but you can have a little faith, Sebastian. Things will work out the way they’re supposed to, and Anne will be with us for a long, long time. There’s still plenty of time to make things right again.”

He nods wordlessly but doesn’t drop your hand.

Just before you arrive at your common room, Ominis stops in his tracks.

“Hang on… Her name, Anne-Marie?” he asks you. “That sounds like something Sebastian would have picked. How generous of you.”

“Aww,” Sebastian laughs. “You must be so in love with me by then to let me pick the name.”

You grit your teeth and ignore them as you murmur the password to the giant stone snake guarding the door, hoping to get some well-earned rest and be rid of these boys for the night.

“Don’t worry, darling,” Sebastian says as he ducks around you and slips inside the door. “I’ll let you pick the name for the second one, and we can duel for rights to the third.”

You go running off after Sebastian and holler, “You bastard Sebastian Sallow, how many damn children are you expecting?!”

Ominis quickly pulls the door shut behind him and shakes his head.

“Godfather,” he mutters to himself. “I’ll never know peace, will I?”

---

[Get to know more of the Sallow kiddos in "the train ain't even left the station" ❤️]

#hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy fic #sebastian sallow #ominis gaunt #sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian x mc #sebastian x reader #my fic #time travel #i tried to stick to time-turner lore as much as possible while completely retconning it #(future) dad!bastian

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remigoesinsane · 8 months

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OKAY... WE NEED TO TALK ABOUT MORELLA.

So, i feel like Morella isn't getting nearly enough time spent talking about her, which is fair, because we really haven't seen much focus on her recently. HOWEVER. I did just realize that I am now able to share a theory that I've had. Warning: it's... a lot.

So first off, I want to address a theory that directly contradicts mine. This is, of course, the theory of "everyone in Nevermore died in America" theory. I want to clarify: I'm not directly shooting it down. I am, however, saying that it's only a theory, and as of yet has no way of knowing for sure if it's fact or fiction. Therefore, this theory will completely disregard that one.

Now, my theory specifically has to do with Morella's death. The first thing we managed to figure out about her was that she must have died sometime after the 1950s, seeing as that was when the lobster clasp, which is what she has, was invented.

However, she can't be too close to modern times, or she would question why everything is so old-fashioned. Also, her outfits don't exactly scream "21st century", so it's pretty safe to say she's from the 1900s. It's been estimated (thank you panda) that the approximate time frame should be late 1950s to early 1970s.

Now, her spectre. She has a benevolent spectre type, and describes her emotions when manifesting as "wanting to protect her friends, no matter what" (not an exact quote btw). It's pretty widely accepted that she died to save someone else. Also, I must point out: red hair? freckles? (ginger, ginger, Weasley, Weasley- nah I'm kidding lmao iykyk) and shepherd's pie? doesn't that kinda scream Irish? not to mention the resemblance of the pajamas:

I'm a massive riordan fan, and rereading Magnus Chase got me thinking: what if (like Mallory Keen) Morella died during bloody Friday?

Some background (yes I did research): Bloody Friday occured on July 21st, 1972, where bombs went off in Ireland, killing 9 people and injuring about 130 others. It was in response to Bloody Sunday, also known as the Bogside Massacre. As you can see, the dates fit the time frame perfectly.

Red and Flynn never actually confirmed where Morella was from. They once said in the discord that England was a possibility, but not to count it as canon. As of yet, we have no confirmation of where Morella is from, so it's perfectly possible for her to be Irish. Line up all the evidence, and you get this theory: Morella likely died either on Bloody Sunday or Bloody Friday. She's always had a strong instinct to protect her friends, even if it meant her death, which in this case, it would have.

I find this theory to be VERY interesting, especially because as far as I've seen, I was the first to mention it (at least in the discord, and I've never seen anyone make this connection on a webtoon comment.) If I'm right... I'll scream.

Obligatory thanks for making it to the end. DAMN was this was long. Maybe even longer than my crack dream... but that's a story for another time.

#nevermore #nevermore webcomic #nevermore webtoon #nevermore discord #morella nevermore #bloody friday #nevermore theories

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ladykyriaa · 5 months

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-SPOILERS FOR ANIME ONLY FANS-

I genuinely love how they added this extra scene in the anime. Because we didn't get this in the LN and Manga and skipped immediately to "he told me to still wear my freckles so i agreed"

Which maybe isn't much, but I think it has so MUCH DETAIL IN IT.

Listen. The Ln and Manga are both in MAOMAO'S pov. So ultimately, with the low self esteem she already has, she wouldn't know nor would she realize how freaking beautiful she actually is.

The day she first went into the outer palace and first got out of the verdigris clad in makeup, she blamed it on jinshi, not knowing at all that she was the reason behind it. And honestly we shouldn't even be surprised at how pretty she is.

And I genuinely love how her beauty is somehow always so amplified whenever she got make up. I dont think because it suits her more, But being the daughter that used to be one of the top courtesans, and having her look resemble that courtesan a lot, I genuinely think she just has "the look" for it. Like a different aura if you would

And rather than her freckles, I think that's what makes her so hard to recognize? Like yeah she looks different, but she also FEELS different yknow

AND ANOTHER THING

JINSHI. Thinking that beauty is all there ever is to himself and therefore only using it and relying only with it vs MAOMAO who thinks nor care for beauty at all, but regardless of that is still able to appreciate beauty for what it. Is. Just. So. Hnggggbbbb

#the apothecary diaries #the apothecary diaries manga #UGHHH THIS SCENE HAS ME SO INSANE #VECAUSE MAOMAO DOESNT REALIZE THAT SHE'S BEAUTIFUL #LIKE WE KNOW DUH. BUT SHE DOESNTTTTTTT #h ggghhh #THESE TWO. WHEN I TELL YOU #SO MANY THINGS SETS THEM APART AND YETTTTTT. THATS WHAT MAKES THEM WORRKKK

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fourthwingfan · 2 months

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Madness - Chapter 17

Hi, guys. Enjoy the new chapter :)

It is therefore only natural that the more powerful the dragon, the more powerful the signet its rider manifests. One should beware of a strong rider who bonds a smaller dragon, but even warier of the unbonded cadet, who will stop at nothing to seize a chance to bond.

—Major Afendra’s Guide to the Riders Quadrant

(Unauthorized Edition)

After sleeping in the crowded barracks for the last two months, it’s weird, and oddly decadent, to have my own room. I’ll never take the luxury of privacy for granted again.

I close my door behind me as I step into the hallway.

Violet’s door is to the right of mine and I see her limping towards me.

“Hi, there rider.” I greet her with a smile. “How is your leg?”

“Hi, Aelin.” She smiles back. “It’s not that bad. I’ll be fine in a couple of days.”

“Good morning, neighbours.” I feel an arm around my shoulder.

“Hi, Liam.” I look up at him. His room is the one left of mine, and Ethan’s next to him. We are the only first-years who survived Threshing in our squad.

“Hi.” I hear Vi whispers and I can see a small blush? on her face.

Oh, my god. I love it!

“Are you okay, Vi? You’re face is a little red.” I say with a sly smile.

“Yes.” She glares at me and turns around when Rhiannon’s door, across the small hall from us, opens and we see Sawyer’s tall, lean frame come out. He runs his fingers through his hair, and when he sees us, his eyebrows rise and he freezes—his cheeks almost as red as his freckles.

“Good morning.” I grin.

“Guys.” He forces an awkward smile and walks off, headed toward the main hallway of the first-year dormitory.

Rhiannon walks out of her room and smiles as soon as she sees us. “No more breakfast duty?” She turns to Violet.

“I was told last night that all the less desirable duties were being handed off to the unbonded so our energy can be redirected for flight lessons.”

„One more reason for the unbonded to hate us,” Rhiannon mutters.

“It doesn’t matter. I think our dragons existence are already pisses them off.” I shrug.

„So, Sawyer, huh, Rhi?” Vi asks as we start down our hallway, passing a few other rooms before meeting up with the main corridor that leads to the rotunda. Have to say, the first-year rooms aren’t as spacious as the second-years’, but at least we all got ones with windows.

A grin curves her lips. “I felt like celebrating.” She darts a quick side-eye at her. “And why have I not heard of you celebrating?”

We melt into the crowd moving toward the gathering hall. “Haven’t found anyone I want to celebrate with.”

“Really? Because I heard that you and a certain squad leader had a moment last night.”

She nearly stumbles over her feet.

“Come on, Vi. The entire quadrant was out there, and you don’t think someone saw you?” I roll my eyes.

„Who gives a shit if it’s frowned upon to be in a relationship with a superior officer? There’s no regulation, and it’s not like any of us is guaranteed to live through the day.” Rhiannon says.

“Solid points,” she admit. “But it’s…” she shakes her head, searching for the right words. “It’s not like that with us. I’d always hoped it would be, but when he kissed me—there was nothing there. Like. Nothing.”

“Well, that’s shitty to hear.” She hooks her arm through hers. “I’m sorry.”

“Me too.” She sighs.

“I’m not.” I glance at them. “I never liked him. And he doesn’t support you, Vi. You deserve someone who sees you. Because you’re awesome.” I squeeze Vi’s hand.

“Thanks, I think.” She smiles at me with gratitude.

„Good morning, ladies. And Liam.” Ridoc forces his way through the crowd and slings an arm around Rhiannon and Vi’s shoulders as we enter the rotunda. “Or should I say, riders?”

“I like the sound of riders,” Rhiannon replies, shooting a smile in his direction.

“It has a certain ring to it,” Ridoc agrees.

“It’s definitely better than dead. Where’s your relic?” Vi asks Ridoc as we pass through the columns of carved dragons and take the steps into commons.

“Right here.” His arm falls off her shoulders, and he shoves the sleeve of his tunic up to reveal the brown mark of a dragon silhouette on his upper arm. “You?”

“Can’t see it. It’s on my back.”

“That will keep you safer if you’re ever separated from that massive dragon of yours.” His eyes dance. “I swear, I thought I was going to shit myself when I saw him on the field. What about yours, Rhi?”

“Somewhere you’ll never see,” she responds.

“You wound me.” He slaps his hand over his heart.

“I highly doubt that,” she retorts, but there’s a smile on her face.

“And you Aelin? If it’s somewhere private than I’d like to volunteer to check it out. Just you, and me.” He winks at me.

“Nice try.” I laugh at him. “But I’ll pass.”

“Are you waiting for someone else?” Liam whispers in my ear.

“Shut up.” I elbow him in the ribs while I feel myself flush.

Before anyone can ask another question we move through commons and into the gathering hall, then make our way through the line for breakfast.

“Asshole,” Ridoc mutters in front of me. “I still can’t believe they tried to kill you.” He says to Violet.

“Who?” I ask and look toward the counter. There’s a man behind it and he glares at Violet with hatred in his eyes. “Oh wow. What did you do to him?”

“I beat him during the challanges.” Vi turns to me. „And before Threshing he said that I better watch my back.”

“Hm. He really holds a grudge.” I say while we collect our breakfast. „But don’t worry, now you’re a rider with a badass dragon. Still… I can’t believe he’s this petty.”

„I’m the weakest link, right? Unfortunately for me, that means people are bound to try and take me out for the good of the wing.” Vi says.

“You’re not!” I say firmly.

We head toward the Fourth Wing section and find a table with extra seats.

“Mind if we—” Ridoc starts.

“Absolutely! It’s yours!” A couple of guys from Tail Section scurry off the bench.

“Sorry, Sorrengail!” the other says over his shoulder as they find another table, leaving this one empty.

What the hell?

“Well, that was really fucking weird.” I say as Rhiannon rounds the other side of the table, and I follow, putting our backs to the wall as we step over the bench and sit, setting our trays in front of us.

“Even weirder?” Liam remarks, gesturing across the hall toward First Wing.

Following his line of sight, my eyebrows lift. Jack Barlowe is being squeezed out of his table. He’s forced to stand as others take his seat.

“What the hell is going on?” Rhiannon bites into a pear and chews.

Jack moves to another table—whose occupants won’t make room for him—and then finds a place two tables down.

“How the mighty have fallen, Ridoc notes, watching the same show I am, but there’s no satisfaction in watching Jack struggle. Feral dogs bite harder when they’re cornered.

“Hey, Sorrengail,” the stocky girl from First Wing says with a tight smile as she walks past our table.

“Hi.” She wave awkwardly as she walks away, then turn to whisper to us. “She hasn’t spoken to me since I took one of her daggers in that challenge.”

“It’s because you bonded Tairn.” Imogen blows her pink hair out of her face and throws her leg over the bench across from us to sit, pushing up the sleeves of her tunic and revealing her rebellion relic. “The morning after Threshing is always a clusterfuck. Power balance shifts, and you, little Sorrengail, are now about to be the most powerful rider in the quadrant. Anyone with common sense is going to be scared of you.”

I blink, is that what’s going on? I look around the hall and take note. Social groups have split up, and some of the cadets I would have considered threats are no longer sitting where they usually do.

“Which is why you’re now sitting with us?” Rhiannon arches a brow at the second-year. “Because I can count on one hand the number of nice words you’ve said to any of us.” She holds up a fist with zero fingers raised.

Quinn—the tall second-year—takes a seat next to Imogen, and Sawyer arrives, sitting on Rhiannon’s other side. Quinn tucks her blond curls behind her ears and brushes her bangs out of her eyes, her round cheeks rising as she smiles at something Imogen says. Have to admit, the hooped piercings that line the shells of both her ears are pretty awesome, and among her half dozen patches, it’s the dark-green one—the same color as her eyes—with two silhouettes that’s most intriguing. I should have studied up on what all the patches mean, but according to what I’ve heard, they change every year.

I’m personally a fan of the first ones we’ve been given. I had to sew the tail-shaped patch with the emblem for Fourth Wing and the centered number two with great care, being sure to only stitch the fabric of my corseted armor, since it’s not like any needle is going to penetrate the scales.

„You weren’t interesting enough to sit with before,” Imogen responds, then bites into a muffin.

“I usually sit with my girlfriend in Claw Section. Besides, no use getting to know you when most of you die,” Quinn adds, tucking her curls away again, just to have them spring forward. “No offense.”

“None taken?” Vi says.

Then Heaton and Emery, the only third-years in their squad, flank Imogen and Quinn on the bench across from us.

“Wow. Is it a squad meeting?” I ask while munching on an apple. “Liam, I think we stand out too much.”

“You’re right. Why don’t you sit with your own squad?” Imogen asks with a raised eyebrow.

“Because they like us more than you. Even though you are their squadmate.” I smile at her coldly. “We have every right to be here. If you have a problem with it then the challanges we’ll start over soon.”

She swallows and looks at her plate.

“Is it just me or is anyone else surprised that Barlowe bonded?” Ridoc questions. “Though from what I’ve heard, his Orange Scorpiontail is on the smaller side.”

“She is,” Quinn confirms. “Which is why he’s struggling this morning.”

“Don’t worry—I’m sure he’ll make up for his lack of social standing in other ways,” Rhiannon mutters, her gaze narrowing. “You have to have some protein, Vi. You can’t just survive on fruit.”

“It’s the only food I can be sure isn’t tampered with, especially with that guy behind the counter.” she peels an orange.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” Imogen scrapes three pieces of sausage onto her plate. “She’s right. You’re going to need all your strength to ride, especially with a dragon as big as Tairn.”

I stare at the sausage. Imogen hates her just as much as me. Hell, she’s the one who broke her arm and ripped out her shoulder on assessment day.

“You can trust her,” Aon says, and I startle, almost dropping the apple.

“She hates us.”

“But she has changed.” He says and I can feel him pulling back.

No other explanation? Fine.

Vi starts to eat, and I focus on the conversation at the table again.

“What’s your signet?” Rhiannon asks Emery.

Air rushes down the table, rattling the glasses. Air manipulation. Got it.

“That’s epic.” Ridoc’s eyes widen. “How much air can you move?”

“None of your business.” He barely spares him a glance.

“Sorrengail, after class is out today, you’re mine,” Imogen says.

“I’m sorry?” She asks in surprise.

Her pale green eyes lock on her. “Meet me in the sparring gym.”

“I’m already working with her on sparring—” Rhiannon starts.

“Good. We can’t afford her to lose any challenges,” Imogen retorts. “But I’m going to help you with weights. We need to strengthen the muscles around your joints before challenges resume. That’s the only way you’ll survive.”

The hairs rise on the back of my neck. “And since when do you care about her survival?” This isn’t a squad thing. It can’t be. Not when she didn’t give a shit before.

“Since now,” she says, gripping her fork in her fist, but it’s the lightning-fast glance toward the dais at the end of the hall that gives her away. Her concern isn’t coming from the goodness of her heart. Something tells me it’s an order. “Squads are about to be condensed at morning formation. We’ll be down to two in every section,” she continues. “Aetos kept the highest number of his first-years alive—hence the patch—so he’ll be allowed to retain his squad, but we’ll probably gain a few when they strip the squads from those who weren’t as successful.” She glances at Liam and I.

As discreetly as I can, I look to my right, past the other Fourth Wing tables and to the dais where Xaden sits with his executive officer and the section leaders, including Garrick, whose shoulders look like they should take up at least two seats. It’s Garrick who looks my way first, his forehead lining with… What is that? Worry? Then he looks away. The only reason he’d be remotely worried—he knows something.

Imogen helping Violet. Violet bonded to Tairn. Ohh shit.

“Aon? Is Tairn and Sgaeyl are mates?”

“Yes. They have a bond.” He answers.

“Then Violet and Xaden are somehow connected too?” I have my suspicions.

“Yes. They have a bond through their dragons.” He answers. “But it’s not an emotional one, little one.” He adds silently.

Then it means Garrick knows Violet’s fate is tethered to Xaden’s.

My gaze snaps to Xaden, and my chest tightens. So. Freaking. Beautiful. Apparently my body doesn’t care that he’s as dangerous as they come in the quadrant, because heat rushes through my veins, flushing my skin.

He’s using a dagger to peel an apple, removing the rind in one long curl, and the blade continues its path as his eyes lift, locking with mine.

My whole head tingles.

Gods, is there any part of my body that doesn’t physically react to the sight of him?

He glances toward Imogen and back to me, and that’s all it takes for me to know for certain. He’s ordered her to help train Violet. Xaden Riorson is now in the business of keeping his mortal enemy alive.

…

A few hours later, after the squads are rearranged and the death roll is read, all the first-year riders in Fourth Wing stand in our newly issued flight leathers, waiting in front of our dragons on the flight field.

We were the smallest squad, it was logical to disband us. I don’t know why, but fortunately Liam, Ethan and I was assigned to Fourth Wing, Flame Section, Second squad. It’s Violet’s squad. Our squad’s second- and third-years went into the same squad too. I don’t complain. I’m glad that we’re still together. So now it’s our first flight lesson as a member of a new squad.

The uniform is thicker than our usual one, with a full jacket I’ve buttoned over my dragon-scale armor. And unlike our regular uniforms, whatever we choose them to be, flight leathers bear no insignia besides our rank at our shoulder and any leadership designation. No names. No patches. Nothing that could give us away if we’re separated from our dragons behind enemy lines. Just a lot of sheaths for weapons.

I try not to think about possibly fighting in the war effort one day and focus on the organized chaos evolving on the flight field this morning. I can’t miss the way the other cadets look at Tairn or the wide berth the other dragons give him. Honestly, if I had those teeth bared at me, I’d back away, too.

„No you wouldn’t, because you didn’t. You stayed and defended your friend.” Aon’s voice fills my head as he stands next to Tairn, and I can tell from his tone there are places he’d rather be.

“Only because there was a lot going on at the moment,” I respond.

“I don’t think so. Now pay attention!” He ends the discussion.

I roll my eyes but focus on what Kaori is saying from the center of the field. His hand is up, using common lesser magic to project his voice so we can all hear.

God help us when Ridoc figures out how to do that. I bite back a smile, knowing he’ll find some way to annoy the shit out of every rider in the quadrant, not just his squad.

“…and at only ninety-two riders, you are our smallest class to date.”

My shoulders dip. “I thought a hundred and one were willing to bond, plus you and Tairn?”

“Willing doesn’t mean they found worthy riders,” Aon answers. “You’re worthy. At least I think you are, but you apparently don’t pay attention in class.” He chuffs and a warm puff of steam blasts the back of my neck.

“There are forty-one unbonded riders who would kill to be standing where you are,” Kaori continues. “And your dragons know that your bond is at its weakest point right now, so if you fall, if you fail, there’s a good chance your dragon might let you if it thinks the unbonded will be a better choice.”

“Comforting,” I mutter.

Aon makes a noise that reminds me of a scoff.

“Now, we’re going to mount, then follow a series of specific maneuvers your dragons already know. Your orders are simple today. Stay in your seat,” Kaori finishes. Then he turns and breaks into a sprint, racing the dozen feet toward his dragon’s foreleg and making the vertical climb to mount.

Just like the last obstacle on the Gauntlet.

I sprint up the same way and I navigate Aon’s spikes to find the seat. My tighs ache a little from yesterday, but it’s bearable. I grip the pommel. Okay, I’m ready.

Kaori’s dragon launches into the sky.

“Hold tight.”

I feel as Aon crouches a millisecond before he hurls us skyward. The wind tears at my eyes as my stomach falls away, and I risk holding on with one hand to lower my flight goggles. Immediate relief.

“We had to go third?” I ask Aon as we fly out of the canyon and higher into the mountain range. I get it now, why I didn’t see the dragons training often even though I’ve basically grown up at Basgiath. The only people around us are other riders.

“I only agreed to follow Smachd because his rider is your instructor. Tairn should be the first.”

“So you’re an in-front kind of guy. Good to know. Remind me to spend some time at temple so I can make multiple appeals to Dunne.” I keep my focus on Kaori, watching for when the maneuvers will start.

“The goddess of strength and war?” Aon clearly scoffs this time.

“What, dragons don’t think we need the gods on our side?” Shit, it’s cold up here. My gloved hands tighten on the pommel.

“Dragons pay no heed to your puny gods.”

Kaori banks right, and Aon follows suit, leading us into a steep dive down the face of one of the peaks. I clench with my legs to remain in the seat.

We go into another climb and even a near-spiral of a turn, and I can’t help but notice that he’s taking everything Kaori is doing and making it harder. The same as Tairn.

“Why did you make it harder?” I ask. “It’s our first flight lesson, I don’t want to fall off.”

“You won’t. I chose you, now trust me. Unless you’d rather be scraped off the glacier below like Gleann’s rider back there?”

I whip my head around to look, but all I see is Aon’s tail swinging, his massive spikes blocking the view.

“Don’t look.”

“We already lost a rider?” My throat knots.

“Gleann chose poorly. He never bonds strongly anyway.”

At least I can hold my seat. It’s not that bad.

As soon as I think this, I see Violet as he falls off from Tairn.

“Violet!” I shout without thinking.

“Don’t worry. Tairn will catch her.” Aon says.

“What? But I thought the dragons never catch the newly bonded riders.”

Then I see Tairn’s claws catch her. He climbs high, then tosses her again, his back rises to meet her falling bottom. I sigh with relief as she takes her seat. She’s safe.

“Worry about yourself, little one. You have a lot to learn. Leave your friend to Tairn.”

I try to concentrate, but I can’t help and notice as Violet falls again.

And again.

Shit. We have to figure something out.

#fourth wing #fanfiction #fourth wing fanfic #liam mairi #the fourth wing #violet sorrengail #xaden riorson #oc #the empyrean #xaden x oc #xaden riorson x oc #tairn #deigh #dragons

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creativesnek · 11 months

Text

Mushroom Foraging Scare

“All right guys! Today, I’m out here with Peach, looking for some tasty mushrooms for dinner.”

Luigi panned the camera stick over him, capturing Peach on the shot. As he continued to film, Peach smiled and waved at the camera, her excitement evident. The sun-dappled forest provided a picturesque backdrop for their mushroom hunting adventure.

"Let's see if we can find some of those delectable chanterelles," Luigi said, his voice filled with enthusiasm. He adjusted his hat and led the way deeper into the woods, with Peach following closely behind.

As they ventured further into the forest, the air became cooler and filled with earthy scents. The ground was covered in a thick carpet of fallen leaves, making each step slightly crunchy under their feet. Luigi's eyes scanned the surroundings, searching for any signs of mushroom patches. As they did so, the man thanked the donations and let the comments flow.

The forest is so pretty 😍

New area unlocked

Damn, the dark web theory to mushroom foraging pipeline is REAL

Weeg looks so adorable and excited

Protecc this man at all cost

*SuperBro has donated 1500 bits! I will never understand y u like mushrooms so much🤢*

Luigi smirked at his brother’s words. Mario has always hated mushrooms, even when they were little. If Mama cooked with them, he’d pick them off his plate and give them to Luigi. To this day he finds it ironic, considering Peach is a Toad person. One can see it on the white freckles and reddish cheek that she bloomed from the royal mycelium. In the end, Mario ended up falling for the thing he disliked most and Luigi will never let him live it down.

They continued onwards, stopping every now and then to look over a dead log before moving on. Luigi and Peach were taking their time, enjoying the outdoors and summer breeze. As they ventured deeper into the forest, Luigi and Peach marveled at the vibrant hues of green that surrounded them.

So peaceful…

Do y’all have a club or smth I can join? Kinda wanna get into this🤔

Isn’t this… cannibalism for Peach?

“Peach, you got a question,” said Luigi.

“What?”

Luigi stopped for a moment. “Someone asked if this is cannibalism for you.”

Peach threw her head back and laughed. The question has popped up several times, and honestly it doesn’t bother her. Newcomers are a common occurrence during streams; plus, it was an opportunity to educate people on Toadfolk culture and physiology. Peach jumped over a log, “No, this isn’t cannibalism for me,” she replied with a giggle. “Toads are born from a special and totally different form of mycelium, which is why we’re sentient. Mushrooms, on the other hand, don’t come from this and therefore aren’t sentient or anywhere near close to being my species.”

Luigi adjusted his camera. “Well, Peachie here is born from an even more special mycelium, which is why she looks more like me than normal Toads.”

Ohh ok

Peach just *spawns into existence* 🧍🏽‍♀️

Guys, king oysters 3 o’clock

The green-wearing man’s eyes widened. “King oysters?”

“Where?!”

Luigi looked around, looking for the mushroom patch that the comment mentioned. And lo and behold, there it was to his right. Giggling like school children, the two ran towards it.

THERE THEY GOOO

Freaking dorks, i luv them

Damn they really want those shrooms😂

The two made it to the patch, then dropped to their knees. Luigi angled the camera, making sure he had a proper shot of the beautiful fungi.

Pat the cap

i wanna poke it

By law, Luigi must pat the cap.

*Tao Coffee ☕donated 1000 bits! give pats to the mushroom pls*

“Hold on, lemme double check that they’re safe,” said Peach.

She laid on her stomach, inspecting the fungi before standing up and nodding. Luigi lifted his free hand and proceeded to give the requested pats to the king oyster mushrooms. Cheers and happy emoticons flooded the chat. Luigi set his camera stick down, angled towards them as they started digging some out.

“Oh wow, these are big mushrooms,” he commented.

Peach slowly dug one out and lifted it to the air. “Look at this one! It’s bigger than my hand!”

The two talked back and forth as they collected the mushrooms, exclaiming their excitement.

Still don’t know how tf I got here…

Take a bite out of it

I wanna bite it

Luigi looked at his phone. “I highly recommend not eating raw mushrooms, especially freshly picked ones.”

Peach gasped. “Ohh, how are you going to cook them?”

“I was thinking of sauteeing them and then eating them with rice,” he replied.

The two started suggesting recipes (with the Chat drooling over the suggestion) but were suddenly interrupted by the sound of thunder. They looked up and gasped; the once sunny sky had suddenly turned dark. Luigi dropped the king oysters into a bag, then put them in his backpack. Peach frowned, “That storm’s coming in pretty quickly,” he said.

Luigi nodded in understanding and looked around. In the distance, he noticed an old building, covered in vines and shrubbery. It looked sketchy but it’ll have to do, the storm was rolling in quickly. He grabbed his stuff and made a beeline towards it; Peach followed closely behind. The rain started pouring behind them.

As they approached the dilapidated building, Luigi could feel a sense of unease creeping up his spine. The creaking sound of the rusty gate swinging in the wind added to the eerie atmosphere surrounding them. Despite his reservations, he knew they had no other choice but to seek shelter within its mysterious walls.

Pushing open the heavy wooden door, a musty smell filled their nostrils, and their eyes adjusted to the dimly lit interior. The room was cluttered with broken furniture and covered in layers of dust, as if it had been abandoned for years.

Sketchy af 🫤

Watch for glass or used needles u guys

Get out. Get outta there.

Hell no, I’d rather stay out in the rain

*SuperBro donated 25 bits! Lu, Peach, keep an eye out.*

Heeding his brother’s and the chat’s words, they found a clean spot to sit and just wait. Bowser would be here soon to pick them up; he most likely noticed the clouds and is already on his way here. Luigi sighed, “Hey, at least we got our haul, right?” he said, trying to sooth the tension. Peach nodded.

An hour passed by. They tried to distract themselves by enjoying the sound of music or answering donation questions. Peach fiddled with her pocket knife, nervously looking around. Suddenly they heard glass breaking. Luigi's eyes widened in fear, his hand instinctively flying to cover his mouth to stifle any noise that might escape.

The group exchanged worried glances, their previous distractions forgotten in an instant. Peach's grip tightened around her pocket knife, her knuckles turning white as she prepared herself for whatever might come next. They had hoped for a peaceful evening, but it seemed fate had other plans.

Then they heard the horrible growl.

RUN

FUCKING RUN

Omg do we call 911???!

dis so fake ong

^^ stfu. 😡

Hey there demons, it’s me ya boi

The duo shot up to their feet and booked it towards an exit, leaving the camera behind. They leaped over debris, screaming.

Someone call King!

King!

He better come get his man

*King donated 1 bit! I’M OUTSIDE!*

They could see headlights from another exit. Peach and Luigi ran out into the rain. A large truck pulled closer. Both recognized it as Bowser’s standard vehicle. Without skipping a beat, they headed towards it as it meant safety. As Peach and Luigi dashed through the pouring rain, their hearts pounded with a mix of fear and determination.

Luigi headed towards the side and frantically got inside, wiping away wet hair from his face. Bowser picked him up by the scruff and pulled him inside further. Peach climbed inside, collapsing across the seats. There was silence except for their pants and the truck’s engine for a few seconds. Bowser touched his face, “Are you okay?!”

“I-I’m okay…”

The concerned Koopa turned to look at the backseats. “Peaches, you good?!”

Peach gave him a weak thumbs-up. Bowser sighed and squeezed his boyfriend’s hand tightly. They took a moment to gather themselves. Peach slowly sat up and moved her ponytail over her shoulder, nervously running her hands through it. Luigi sighed and put his backpack on his lap. Then he froze.

“I left my phone behind.”

Bowser stared straight ahead. Then took off his seatbelt. Luigi went to grab his arm but he got out before he could even touch him. He slammed the door close behind him, “Stay here.”

Peach and Luigi’s protests fell on deaf ears as the large koopa marched inside, smoke trails leaving his nostrils. They watched nervously as the minutes ticked by, fearful of what would happen next. Luigi knew Bowser was fully capable of defending himself, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t worry.

They both jumped and screamed when the car door opened suddenly.

Bowser took his seat, getting comfortable on the custom-made seat fit for his shell. He handed Luigi the camera stick, which he had kept dry. Luigi took it, “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Yes, I did. Also, it wasn’t some random crackhead or anything like that; just a bunch of asshole Boos playing pranks.”

The two sighed in relief. Luigi lifted the phone, trying to give the audience a reassuring smile.

He’s alive!

He lives!

Damn, Bowser lookin’ fine in the rain 👀🫦

Weeg, how could u cheatin on King? Disappointed 🙁

Bowser is King, dumbass.😑

The chat continued their expressions of relief (and the occasional bickering) as Luigi stayed on screen. Bowser wiped his hair back, then started the truck again. He also turned on the heater, “Let’s go home before you two catch a cold.”

Luigi smiled at him, “It’s my turn to make dinner.”

“Sounds good to me,” Bowser replied.

#bowuigi #super mario #bowser #luigi x bowser #luigi #fanfic #super luigi #super mario bros #princess peach #streaming #gaming #mushrooms #oneshot

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artyandink · 1 month

Text

Light My Fire (Again) | beau arlen

Summary: “I thought I’d swore off love, Jenny.” I smiled, chuckling a bit as I looked down to my feet then back up the skies, taking in the twinkling lights. “God, I really thought I did, and I was doing such a good job at it too. But, well, I just… I couldn’t help it.” I wet my lips slightly, biting the bottom one. “It’s improper, but it’s true.”

SERIES MASTERLIST

MAIN MASTERLIST

(divider credits go to @cafekitsune)

A/N - Inspired by Take Me Home by @zepskies

six - kind regards, your broken heart

PREVIOUSLY ON LMF:

I woke up groggily in Beau’s cabin for the third time this week, rubbing my forehead as I grunted softly, propping myself up on the pillows. Beau now no longer trusted the safety of my own house, which had now become a crime scene, therefore prompting him to insist that I stay at his trailer while Dean took care of Olivia. I had taken a beating that day, and my limbs felt like Jello.

“Mornin’ sweetheart.” Beau stepped in with an affectionate smile, sitting down beside my legs, his hand on my knee while his thumb stroked it. “You doin’ better?”

“Physically, yes.” I nodded, sighing dejectedly as I took in the angry red marks on my forearms. He tried to meet my eyes with what looked like concern add even pity flashing behind his.

“And… emotionally?”

“I…” I bit my lip, frowning as I looked down at my hands. The hands of the law, or so I claim. “I just feel useless, Sheriff.”

“Useless?” He looked incredulous, his hand tightening on my knee. “T-The hell you calling useless, Belle?”

“Me.” I sighed, licking my lips nervously. “I have been so… weak lately. I’ve taken but after hit and… I have a niece to protect. If I can’t protect myself, how can I protect her from others? I feel like I’ve failed her, Sheriff. I’ve failed my baby.” My voice cracked at the end, the pain tearing at my heart.

“Your first instinct was to protect Liv.” He assured. “You didn’t think of anyone else before her. You got her to safety first, and I’d label that a damn good aunt, Belle. She’s safe and sound. No longer in danger, and she’s with her dad. She’s ok.”

I nodded. “I guess I can rest now.”

NOW:

Along with being a master at getting myself into life-threatening situations, I was also trained in boxing. Now that I’d fully recovered from the gunshot wound and partially from the attack a week ago, I was taking Olivia through another self-defence class. She’s a natural, if I do say so myself.

“Control the space, c’mon.” I encouraged, tapping her arm to keep her guard up. She began to assert more, making me chuckle breathlessly and nod. “That’s it, attagirl. Now, combo.” I held up my focus mittens, which she hit clean and sharp with a jab, cross punch, a vicious hook before twisting into a spinning hook kick. “Good job, tiger. Keep at it, don’t lose that momentum.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Beau watching from the grill with a faint smile on his face, making me laughed and shake my head as I continued to work Olivia through the exercise. “Don’t tire on me now.” I encouraged, tapping her arms again to get her guard up. “Bob and weave.” I hook punched, forcing her to bend her knees and duck under my arm, my glove twisting so she could sharply hook punch it. “Good, good! C’mon, just a little more, then we can have a rest. Roundhouse.” I held up the pad, which she kicked perfectly with a satisfying, resounding smack. The action made Beau’s eyebrows raise slightly, impressed, as he watched Olivia and I, my attention solely on Liv.

His eyes trailed from my tied back wavy hair, my forearm brushing back sweaty, loose strands of my hair. Then they lingered on my determined blue eyes, which flashed almost icy white in the glow of the morning. Then came the dewy curvature of my button nose, a bead of sweat trickling down the freckled skin that was promptly wiped. Then came my pretty pink lips, my tongue darting out every now and then to wet them every now and then. A small huff of breath escaped his mouth as his emerald eyes traced the lines of my neck, lingering on a small, prominent freckle on the smooth, unmarked skin. Then came, like a punch to the gut, my slightly defined shoulders and arms, visible because of my tank top. To make things worse (or better), a hint of my bra strap was visible underneath as it shifted and moved along with my agile body. So his eyes wandered lower-

“You ok, there, Dad?” Emily’s taunting, lilting voice cut through the haze abruptly, pulling him out of his, most likely, lack-of-romantic-connection induced reverie. Yeah, that’s it.

“Yeah, sweetheart. I’m doin’ fine.” Beau nodded, swallowing. “Just… fine.” He gave me a once over, clearing his throat.

Damn it, Sheriff. That’s your deputy, get it together.

I jogged over with a grin, grabbing my water bottle and taking a long sip from it, the cool water refreshing my lungs. “God, I needed that.” I groaned in satisfaction, rubbing my neck. I then exhaled happily, glancing between the two as I sensed something up. “Did I miss anything?”

“No.” Emily shook her head with an innocent smile. “Not at all.” I flicked my eyes between the two with a twinkle in them, a slight smile playing at my lips.

“A’ight.” I nodded, conceding with a chuckle, running a hand through my hair before rubbing the nape of my neck. I could try and crack the secret code between this father-daughter duo, or I could focus on more pressing matters that I didn’t want Liv to worry about. Such as Cal’s murder, which was confirmed when a body was found dragged into a lake, prints washed off. We still had del Marco in custody, but that told me that it wasn’t enough. We needed the phone. Lucy’s phone, which somebody took. I didn’t know who. “I’m gonna start working the case from the safety of the trailer.”

“Are you sure that’s the best idea, darlin’?” Beau broached, corners of his eyes crinkling in concern. “You ain’t exactly in good shape to go after these God awful men.”

“At least I can go after them from a more desk-heavy standpoint.” I shrugged, grimacing as I thought of the night the guys attacked. “I’m just pissed. They could’ve gotten Olivia.” The thought of them laying their hands on Olivia made my blood boil. The things I’d do to them if they ever did come back for a second round, they’d make the Devil blush. And Lucifer probably doesn’t take these things with a heavy heart.

“We can’t go chargin’ like bulls that see red, Belle.” He chastised, folding his arms with a small huff. “You’ve been getting hurt nonstop, and I can’t see that again- I ain’t allowing it. Not anytime soon. As your friend and your sheriff? I suggest you stand down.”

“And I’m not inclined to slack off.” I frowned, copying his expression. “As long as those thugs are out there, my baby girl is in danger. And as long as she isn’t safe, I’m not happy. So I won’t rest until that group is taken down.”

Beau gave me a long and hard look, his tongue wetting his lips before he bit them in frustration, a look which I wasn’t a stranger to, but it seemed oddly more… magnetic… than usual. If that’s a way to describe it. “You’re not gonna listen, huh?”

“No, sir.”

He let out a huff of breath, looking to the sky as he contemplated what to do. Then he nodded, Adam’s apple bobbing. “Alright. But… if there’s any chance that we need a tactical squad, which is pretty high, you stay at the back.”

I gave him a grin, knowing I’d won. It didn’t take long, since nobody was bothered to deal with my stubbornness. “Thanks, Sheriff.”

He just grumbled and looked away.

I was dropping off Tom to Harry’s house after picking up Liv from their date. I had mixed feelings about Tom, which didn’t feel rather fair, and as an officer of the law, fair judgement is mandatory. On one hand, Olivia seemed happy with him. Really happy. He was sweet (by what I’d heard from Olivia’s lovesick rambling), cared for her and was an all-around gentleman, even though Olivia was older by a few months. I could respect that much. But… he was Harry’s son. Adopted son, so thankfully the bad genes didn’t pass on, but still.

I could still remember the features of his, the ones I admired on a daily basis. The twinkling, charming green blue eyes, the winning smile, fluffy brown blonde hair, the deep, warm laugh that never failed to be contagious- the hell am I mixing Harry up with? Harry’s laugh sounded like the laugh of that grandpa from New York that Olivia showed me once on YouTube but ten times worse. And I can’t believe I found his Missouri accent even one attractive when it doesn’t compare to a Texas accent on a deep voice- where the hell is Texas coming from?!

I walked Tom up the steps to Harry’s house, which was quite literally the picture of picket fence perfection. Only thing missing from the meticulously mowed lawn, carved, painted white, wooden fence and the peach house paired with a red roof was a line of flowery bushes- oh wait, they have that too.

I could’ve had this. But I blew it, with me, myself and my workaholic disposition.

I swallowed, leading the sandy-haired teenager up the steps and knocking on the door to Harry’s house, the man himself opening the door and flashing the smile that always picked my spirits up, but I only got a weird feeling since my stomach sank at the same time this time around. “Harry.”

“Issy.” He moved aside so Tom could walk in, giving him a brief hug before turning back to me. His eyes looked me over, a look in his eye that I couldn’t place. “You look…”

“Horrible, I know.” I chuckled, looking away uncomfortably, a small, polite grin on my face as I tried my hardest not to burst and start yelling about how he ruined me. I half expected him to agree, but then I felt a pressure on my shoulder and found him smiling affectionately as the hand dropped to squeeze my bicep almost imperceptibly. The hell?

“I think you look beautiful.” Harry whispered, making my breath catch in my throat and bile almost shoot up from wherever it comes from. This man is-is married.

“R-Rhea!” I stammered way too loudly, plastering a patronising grin on my face as I shrugged his hand off. “How’s your wife?”

“She’s ok.” He nodded, looking somewhat dejected. I cleared my throat, stepping back to keep distance between him and I.

“That’s good.” Awkward silence, as expected when your married ex is hitting on you. “I have to go. Got work, cases to solve, all that.”

“I see.” He agreed quietly, and I turned on my heel, booking the hell out of there.

Beau hurried to Dewell and Hoyt’s office, where he found the trifecta- Jenny, Cassie and Denise. They all were looking at him with matching knowing glances which told him his game was up. But- hold on a second - what game was there in the first place? No game here, no siree. But there they were, Denise, Jenny and Cassie, all staring at him with looks that said ‘I know your secret’ but the secret was nonexistent, right?

“Emily told us.” Jenny grinned, spinning a pen in between her fingers as she snickered like a cartoon villain.

“How you checked Deputy Joyner out.” Cassie smirked, pumping her eyebrows. His face instantly flushed red; he hadn’t checked his deputy out. He was gauging her suitability to… get back on the job. That’s it. That’s right.

“Or Belle, as you call her.” Denise teased, filing her nails with the wrong side of the filer. “Is there somethin’ you’re not telling us, Bo-Bo?”

“I think y’all are insane.” Beau snorted, averting his eyes nervously. “Belle… and-and me? And I, grammatically speaking. No. Nah, she swore off men, remember? She swore off men. After Harry the ass, who is back in town, by the way, s-she doesn’t need any more men drama.”

“C’mon, I wanna see Jarlen happen.” Cassie pouted.

“Oh my god, Jarlen!” Jenny gasped, nodding frantically. “I was gonna call it Belleau.”

Denise grimaced in agreement, her head also bobbing up and down. “Jarlen works.”

“Jarlen it is.” Cassie smirked, staring straight into Beau’s soul. He cleared his throat, chastising himself for even thinking about his deputy that way. Though… it wouldn’t hurt, right?

It was true that he felt a bit… partial… to the momma bear, ass protecting beaut of a deputy, but he hadn’t been that obvious with it… unless he had.

“You seem rather frustrated on this case, huh, Belle?” He asked, sighing deeply. I shook my head, plastering on a smile that once again did not reach my eyes as I looked back at him.

“No, sir, I’m just concerned for the kid.” I answered not as smoothly as I’d hoped to have done. My voice was slightly shaky, and I knew what he was thinking. Mark had been after custody of Olivia for ages, and was still trying. However, he couldn’t do anything, not when I was named Olivia’s legal guardian and was Lucy’s next of kin.

“It’s about Mark, right?”

I chuckled lowly, nodding. “That obvious?”

“You’re like a mama bear in these cases.” He grinned, then patted my knee. “But now, I need my deputy to have a clear mind. God knows you help me keep mine all clear and sunny skies.”

“Gotcha, Sheriff.” I smiled as we pulled up to the house. “Hear you loud and clear.” I reached under the seat, pulling on my bulletproof vest and strapping it tight. I looked over, seeing that he’d done the same. “Shall we?”

“We shall, darlin’.”

While Olivia was busy admiring the necklaces, I nicked the tape from the box, storing it in the pocket of my jeans. I noticed a large shadow cover the light from the door, and I saw Beau there. I could trust Beau with this. He could help me, so could Jenny and Cassie. I quickly exchanged a look with him that he understood, so he put on a smile, strolling over and clapping me on the shoulder.

“There’s my Southern Belle, all up an’ about. From a Texan to a Kansan, you are what I’d call a Texan 10, even in a faded plaid.” He grinned, squeezing my shoulder slightly and winking before turning to Olivia. “And you, young lady, must be Olivia.”

“That’s me.” Liv nodded, looking between Beau and I. “And you must be Aunt Isa’s favourite sheriff.”

“While I appreciate it, I’m the only sheriff.”

“Exactly.”

“Liv, sweetheart, can you go downstairs? I’ve gotta bring the cake, but start opening your presents.” I said to Olivia with a sigh. I kissed her hair, smoothing it back for a moment before letting her go, and then I turned to Beau when I knew she was out of earshot.

“Something’s up, right?” He frowned, folding his arms and tilting his head. “Talk to me, Belle.”

I held up the cassette tape, a long sigh leaving my mouth. “Titled ‘sunflower’. It’s the nickname my sister used to call me, so I can’t help but think if this is a message seen six years too late.”

“Or something that got mixed up in the wrong box.”

“That’s also a possibility.” I nodded, then pouted in thought. “I’ve got a cassette player somewhere in my study. After Liv’s celebration here is over and she’s out with her friends, whaddya say we have a lil’ listen to it?”

“Sounds like a plan.” Beau agreed, then his eyes landed on the framed photo of my sister and I. “That’s Lucy, huh?”

“Yeah.”

“She looks just like her sister.” He rubbed my arm comfortingly, the backs of his fingers grazing my skin. “How much older was she?”

“Eight years.” I replied softly, leaning slightly into his touch, even though I didn’t quite register it.

“Ah, so she’d be lordin’ it over us if she was still alive. Even a forty-year-old sheriff can’t escape the clutches of an older sister.”

“Neither can a forty year old deputy.” I chuckled, and his hand moved down to hover in front of mine, but my pinky wrapped around his, my breath hitching as I thought of the day I’d skipped down the stairs six years ago and found my sister dead in the garden, multiple knife wounds in her chest. Then the weeks after where I searched and searched for any leads but found none.

My head snapped forward, glass breaking and flying to the left, cutting my cheek as the seatbelt tightened on my chest. My forehead banged against the wheel, a cry escaping my mouth-

“Hey, Deputy.” Beau��s low timbre snapped me out of it again, I looked into his warm green eyes, the ones I’d grown to trust with my life. “You doin’ ok?”

“I… yeah.” I nodded, cracking a smile.

I was sitting in Jenny’s kitchen with Beau and Jenny, of course, the latter busy making lunch since I’d handled our breakfast. I was, again, scrolling on my Instagram, most of my feed Harry and Rhea the redhead. The guy even had the audacity to tag me in a photo, which I didn’t respond to or react to. Beau’s eyes followed mine, locking on the screen with a frown. “That’s Harry the jackass. Why are you lookin’ at photos of Harry the jackass?”

“He’s with the redhead he cheated on me with. Rhea.” I explained with a sigh, and he snatched the phone, not giving me time to protest as he looked at Rhea with an unreadable expression on his face. Then he smirked, nodding.

“I see the appeal.” He chuckled, looking at me playfully. Jenny gasped in horror, swatting his arm while I looked at him incredulously, taken aback by his audacity. “I mean, she’s gorgeous-”

“Beau!” Jenny scolded while I looked away, starting to internally panic. He… thought Rhea was gorgeous? Did he really? Was Harry justified in leaving me because I wasn’t good enough?

“I’m messin’ with you!” Beau raised his hands in surrender, taking another look at the photo before handing my phone back to me. “Sweetheart, Harry the jackass doesn’t even know who he’s lost. This Rhea girl? Doesn’t even hold a candle to you. She’s an LA three, or a Texas one. You are a ten in both worlds, darlin’. He doesn’t deserve you.”

“Thanks, Sheriff.” I sighed in relief, rubbing my face. Jenny patted Beau’s shoulder, giving him a look that said ‘I was about to rip your head off’. “You got me there for a second.”

“I got Hoyt too.”

“Yes, he did.” Jenny nodded, glaring playfully at Beau. “If you’d said that truthfully, no joking, I’d rain down hellfire.”

“Well, I’m glad I was just poking some fun.” Beau smirked, then patted my knee. “You’re gorgeous, Southern Belle. Ain’t no messing around there.”

“You’re very welcome, young lady.” And with that, I took the glass of water with a grateful smile and sipped it as I padded down the stairs in my fuzzy socks. Beau was busy humming a tune and cooking some breakfast, which happened to be scrambled eggs. The moment he saw me, his demeanour instantly changed.

“Ay, ay, ay! Who let her out?” He frowned, pointing at me. Em, Carla and I instantly raised our hands, which forced Beau’s own to accept how I was now capable of walking. “A’ight, three against one, I see how it is. The ladies launching a coup- I see through all your plans.” He chuckled, dishing out the eggs. They didn’t look burnt, which was a plus, so I grabbed one plate and sat down with it. “Since you were on bed rest, Belle, we paused the investigation. The APB hasn’t found the guy who hurt you, but we’ll find him.”

“Yeah, I heard you reopened your sister’s murder investigation.” Carla frowned sympathetically, reaching over to comfortingly squeeze my hand. Emily, however, looked excited.

“No way, your sister was murdered?” She gasped, a wide smile on her face until Beau and Carla shot her a disapproving look, eyebrow raised and mouths set in a grimace. Damn, they’re good at the ‘look’.

“Em, let’s try to be a little more sensitive about this subject.”

“Your enthusiasm is completely warranted, sweetheart, murder can be cool, but let’s dial it down a little.” Beau added, clapping Emily on the shoulder on his way to sit down, and when he did, I felt a small nudge on my foot. I turned to Beau with a raised eyebrow, and he gave me a small smile that could only come before an-“Are you doin’ ok, darlin’?”

There it is.

“Just fine.” I smiled, nodding as I shoved a bite of omelette in my mouth. Beau and Carla looked at me expectantly, as if I was about to break down bleeding all of a sudden, but I shrugged, glancing between them. “I’m fine, you two. Trust me, I feel better already.” I got a call from Olivia, so I broke into a wide grin and answered it immediately, swallowing my chewed bite of omelette. “Hey, sweetie.”

“Mornin’ sweetheart.” Beau stepped in with an affectionate smile, sitting down beside my legs, his hand on my knee while his thumb stroked it. “You doin’ better?”

“Physically, yes.” I nodded, sighing dejectedly as I took in the angry red marks on my forearms. He tried to meet my eyes with what looked like concern add even pity flashing behind his.

“And… emotionally?”

“I…” I bit my lip, frowning as I looked down at my hands. The hands of the law, or so I claim. “I just feel useless, Sheriff.”

“Useless?” He looked incredulous, his hand tightening on my knee. “T-The hell you calling useless, Belle?”

“Me.” I sighed, licking my lips nervously. “I have been so… weak lately. I’ve taken but after hit and… I was a niece to protect. If I can’t protect myself, how can I protect her from others? I feel like I’ve failed her, Sheriff. I’ve failed my baby.” My voice cracked at the end, the pain tearing at my heart.

I nodded. “I guess I can rest now.”

Yeah, maybe he was a little too partial. But he couldn’t help it. Elle Joyner was… likeable, charming, funny, had the most beautiful eyes… he couldn’t help falling for her liking her as much as he did.

“Bo-Bo?” Denise’s lilt took him out of memory lane, matching smirks again on all three of their faces. “You’re a little spacy.”

Beau raised his eyebrows, trying to come up with an excuse but failing miserably.

That night, I was up late, working a case. I’d sent Olivia to bed after having the leftovers from the last takeout and a quick goodbye before she went to Dean’s. I flicked through the sheafs of paper, and I found a picture of Lucy and I. Lucy had a tattoo on her right wrist that made me sit up. I’d never seen her with it before, so it intrigued me more than it usually would.

045114.

The hell was that for? Just a random number?

I swept my hand down my mouth, biting my bottom lip before I shut the file, lying down in the bed Beau had made for me, pulling the covers up to my chin as I shut my eyes, already in my pyjamas. I scrolled on my phone, coming across a voicemail from… Harry. The moment I played it, the slurred syllables told me he had gotten into the beer.

‘Heya, Isa, just wanted t-to say, m’so in love w’ya. Can’t get enough o’ya. Just wanted you t’know. Especially since it’s been how long? A-Ah, three years. Can’t get o’er ya. C-Call me.’

I felt bad for Rhea.

I turned over in bed, too tired to even forward the voicemail to her and blindly putting the phone on the bedside table. My eyelids felt like anvils midair being pulled down by the cruel force of gravity, so I fell asleep soon after. However, that was short lived when I got up a few hours later, panting in what could only be the aftershocks of a nightmare. I rubbed my eyes, my hands travelling to my arms over the hoodie that Beau lent me. It went down to my mid-thigh, I was that small. I saw a wet spot appear on the chest area, and I swallowed, realising that my breath was shakier and more ragged than normal and my cheeks were tainted with tears. I instantly grabbed a tissue, wiping them. I didn’t want to ruin his hoodie any further with my angst that rivalled a teenager’s.

On the way out of the trailer, finding the still-burning fire, I took the photo of Lucy and I out, taken from the time we had been at her first wedding in Dean’s home town: Roseburg, Oregon. I sat down at a chair by the fire, the hoodie practically swallowing my body up in an attempt for warmth. Dean had his lips pressed to Lucy’s hair, his hands tickling her sides and making her let out a laugh that was too beautiful for this world. I was holding the bouquet like a trophy, since I’d caught it, but I, in fact, was not next.

My great aunt Bertha got married to her neighbourhood’s milkman, Samuel, before I could even score a date.

And then Dean and Lucy divorced due to work schedule problems, and Lucy found Mark. Not my favourite choice, but she still married someone. Here I was, yearning for someone at 40 years old who probably didn’t yearn for me back. I’m a mess of a human, aren’t I?

“Belle, darlin’?” Beau showed up at the door to his trailer, his hands desperately trying to smooth his blasted hedgehog hair while his eyes blearily took in the scene, concern bleeding onto his rugged features as he took a step forward, immediately sensing that I was deep in thought. “S’late, sweetheart. What’s goin’ on in that head a’yours, hm?” He also deduced my half-assed attempt for warmth, so he whipped his coat off, tucking it around my shoulders before lunging to get a blanket that he placed over my legs. He then sat down next to me, wrapping a strong arm around my shoulder that he used to draw me into his chest, his other large hand gripping my thigh slightly to move my legs in a more comfortable position. By instinct, my hand went over his heart.

Thump. Thump.

His heartbeat was oddly comforting.

“Mind tellin’ me what’s got my favourite deputy sporting a face like a wet weekend?” Beau asked softly, his fingers rubbing through my hair, teasing out any random knots, because of course there had to be imperfections in what could be a perfect moment.

His lips almost pressed against my hair, ghosting over for a moment before he decided against it, his cheek nuzzling the soft strands instead. I sighed, biting my lip. “I think the case is taking its toll on my sleep.” I replied quietly, rubbing my puffy red eye. “Had a nightmare that Olivia was kidnapped. And had a flashback of when Cal died. So many numbers…”

“What do you mean by that, sweet girl?” He proved further, his thumb tracing my cheekbone before sweeping down to line my jaw. The touches helped me relax and stop the panicking, which helped a lot with recall. My muscles relaxed, my breathing slowing down and telling my watch that I no longer needed to be recommended breathing exercises.

“Cal’s wrist on the crime scene. I saw numbers.” I frowned, pouting slightly. “541458. Can’t help but think they mean something. And one photo of Lucy had a six digit number tattooed on her. 045114.”

“They’re both connected?”

“Maybe. Just need to figure out how.”

“S’all well and good, but I think you need t’calm yourself down.” He took the courage to kiss my forehead, and paused for a moment, waiting for my reaction. I don’t know what came over me, but I nuzzled further into him, and I felt his chest, which sort of seemed tight, suddenly relax, a long breath escaping his mouth. “You’re always taking care of others, darlin’. Time for someone to take care o’ you.”

My first instinct was to protest. “But-”

“But nothin’. We’re gonna stay here, and when you’re calm, we’ll go back inside and I’m gonna stay with you. Then we can take a proper crack at del Marco. Got it?”

I deflated, nodding. “Yes, sir.” I giggled at the end, which earned a deep chuckle from him too.

“Deputy, you make me feel old sometimes.” We sat like that in silence, until Beau felt that I’d calmed down enough. He helped me up, tidying away the blanket and extinguishing the fire, switching on his phone torch so we had a light to help us walk. When we got to my bed, he gestured for me to lay down, probably as a ‘ladies first’, and I did. He got in next to me, making sure that the covers were snugly over me before drawing me closer, his arm around my waist protectively. My back facing his chest, his breath on the back of my neck.

It all felt so unfamiliar.

“G’night, Belle.”

“Night, Sheriff.”

The next morning, I woke up slowly, humming with a groggy smile, expecting to feel the warmth of Beau’s arm around me, acting as a shield against the rest of the world. But I didn’t. My eyelashes fluttered and my eyes opened, and instead I found us both at the far ends of the bed, turned away from each other. My stomach went hurtling down like it was a rollercoaster. I didn’t even know why. Perhaps it was the lack of physical contact I’d gotten over the past few years. Maybe I’m touched starved. Yeah, that’s it.

I got out of bed, going into the bathroom to change into Lucy’s leather jacket, smiling at the nice burgundy colour. Underneath that was a black tank top and jeans, to complete the look. I strolled out, finding Beau also fully dressed, adjusting his hat as he turned around with a grin. “G’morning, Belle. Sleep ok?”

“Just peachy.” I nodded, not mentioning the swooping feeling I felt when I woke up and didn’t find him right next to me, the detail that I think he missed. But neither of us missed the brief sweep of our eyes down and up each other. “Let’s go.”

At the department, I walked into the interrogation room with Beau and Jenny, where del Campo was sat with a smug smirk. “Finally, you brought her here.” He gestured to me, his New York accent lilting. “I only got one thing to say. One thing only.”

“And what’s that?” Jenny asked, her expression stony.

“It better be good, otherwise you’re lookin’ at a lotta jail time there, buddy.” Beau seethed, while I remained silent, waiting for this guy to say something.

Del Campo leaned forward, his fingers drumming on the table and seriously asking me to snap them off or at least break them with my bare hands. “Markham Leeds sends his regards.”

My patience broke. My hand clenched into a fist. My thoughts clouded over and were replaced with waves of pure, seething red. My breathing became laboured as I processed the information, which only took the feeling to new heights. I scoffed, about to blow a fuse. Which I did. My fist slammed down onto the table hard, sending a loud and resounding bang through the room that made everyone jump. This was my final straw. I had him. I finally had him.

“MARKHAM, THAT BASTARD!”

LMF TAGLIST:

@nancymcl @deans-spinster-witch @hobby27 @thej2report @winharry @abramswife @xxannyxx

Make sure to like, reblog with feedback and comment! Comment if you want to join the taglist!

#beau arlen x oc #beau arlen x reader #beau arlen x you #beau arlen #beau #beau arlen fanfiction #big sky #cassie dewell #jenny hoyt #light my fire

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peachyonepiece · 7 months

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appears looking at you with autism creature eyes. hello @sangerie your vs bros fankids (one of which i had a hand in making bc. glances at the reblogs/notes in @loopyarts post. i have confessed there fskakfafsga) are really really neat .u.

SPEAKING of loopyarts ty for allowing me to take inspo for nijis kids raid suit fit!! i really liked the softer yellow and the thicker lightning bolts on his pants you gave him so tysm for letting me yoink it <3

uh uhh individual pieces and also design/character rants under the cut bc. i wanna.

RAID SUIT RAMBLING TIME bc i spent the most time on those. also you might be asking 'why is only their hair rendered in those pieces?' well the answer is because i am Lazy. moving on . (/HJHJ i AM lazy but also rendering it further would mess up the colors and i didn't wanna do that lmao. carrying on..)

Ichiji's daughter i am so SO proud of her fit. i did not look up a reference or even inspo ideas at all, that all came from the ole noggin baybeee. anyways she is obviously based off a magical girl(s) fit bc she wants and DESERVES to be. also since Reiju doesn't have any kids of her own (based wine aunt) i also decided to let Little Red have some of her motifs instead of just purely Ichiji's!! primarily the 66 on her pants but also all the pink on her instead of just red :) and obviously she has her dads number and while she DOES have a (white? bc like daddy shes a special little princess /aff) cape i didn't include it here bc it looked reallly bad lmao. but she does have one tucked into the bow probably!! there she is, Sparkling Red Neo!!! (get it.. sparkling instead of sparking... bc magical girl.... im funny i think.) onto Little Ocean Boy

OKAY LET ME TALK ABOUT THE MOST MINISCULE YET MOST IMPORTANT DETAIL TO ME AND ME ALONE FIRST. that being the symbol on the brats belt. it was actually inspired/based off of this post which really stuck with me with me after reading it which i later realized was bc the "that something has been completely reversed" REMINDED ME OF THIS POST OF YOURS. i don't think im especially good at theory crafting but. idk i think there could be Something about how after judge came and turned germa into mercenaries their symbol turned from what once symbolized 'purity' into the skull of war mongers and then BACK to purity after 0124 get germa on the right path... poetry or smthn. ANYWAYS yah shoe shiners got a pretty basic fit bc like i said in the og ask, hes a sora warrior of the sea fan, once he saw the raidsuits irl methinks he'd want to stay pretty close to the og design. HOWEVER he refuses to drop the hat (much to Niji's dismay) and i came up with a reason besides 'its one piece and therefore there's GOTTA be a kid with a weird hat that they're attached to': and that is the fact that it hides his eyebrows. Little Red has the curly brows, all of Yonji's cabbage patch does too, and the brats the only one without. even if literally no one else notices or cares, he wants to hide the fact that he doesn't have em because it Separates him. and he doesn't want that. at all. he really, Really wants to be a part of this family (oh no i made it. angsty). ANYWAYS UHH YAYYY HE HAS A TWO ON HIS HAT (that he sewed on himself which is why i made sure you can see the stitch-lines) BC NIJIS HIS DAD WAHOO YIPPEE :D:D:D Dengeki Blue Neo: little shoe shiner edition!!

UHH second image is just a refined piece of that first doodle i sent you. with lineart and a better color pallet and all. actually looking at it again now i realize i forgot little brats freckles and i am now punching the air bc its too late to fix. just act like they're there. please :,,,) edit: nvm its the next morning i fixed that kjahsdah

i don't even have much to say about the last two because i Think i am Rightgksfjgasjkfa but for the third i think the brats a bad influence on Little Red especially. ALSO FOR THE FOURTH NO I DIDNT FORGET ICHIJIS TATTOO. I AM JUST LAZY. (and I also forgot his tattoo :]) ANOTHER edit: i also. fixed this :]

CHRIST i am incapable of contacting you on Tumblr via any way that includes anything less than 250 words i am so sorry sangerie.. i hope you like these tho cause i really do tbh :3 (PS you have to take literally NONE of what I said here [mostly about shoe shiner] as like.. canon about them?? these are YOUR ocs obvi so please, change Little Red's raidsuit design if you find it unappealing!! make shoe shiner have a backstory of your own!!! i hope that isnt weird or rude to say, i just thought it was important too bc i threw sm at you so strongly ^^' okay thats all tysm for reading this it means to world to me byebye <3)

#one piece #vinsmoke ichiji #vinsmoke niji #one piece ichiji #one piece niji #others ocs tag #vinsmoke siblings #my art #im so happy with how the raid suits especially turned out like i can't get over it #i haven't been truly proud of an art piece for MONTHS this is so refreshing #like this aint perfect in a lotta other places but that alone is carrying this for me #also sangerie i am SO sorry if it looks like im virtually stalking you fjagskdakfsfa first the trans vs sisters and now this..#i promise im not there's just not a lot of ppl in the Vinsmokes tags and you and your stuff is really cool 😭 im normal i prommy /irony #okay ive literally said enough in the post im shutting up now gday or gnight take care #OH WAIT YEAH throwing in a #scopohobia tw #scopophobia cw #bc little brats eyes are borin into ya #OKAY now gday/night <3<3

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blue-banana-milk · 19 days

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nah cause tell me why this man is my #1 brain parasite what the FUCK

okay, personal Diluc headcanos even tho Ive never played the game, shut up:

Cat person, shut up

Everyone mischaracterizes this man as an asshole and that's such bullshit

It's a front that he puts on but the moment he sees a little meow meow HE IS MELTING

If it's a kitten: is very careful and makes sure to guide them back to their litter/mom and gives them little head scratches

If it's a full grown cat: admires from affar with the urge to go up and pet them. let's them approach him as to not bother or scare off the cat

LOVES holding them in his arms so he can pet and nuzzle their little faces, it's his favorite way to relieve stress while working

bonus: has a very big soft spot for small animals in general

he has freckles, shut up, he does

he got teased for them when he was a kid and by proxy, doesn't like when people comment on them

Has burn scars that have caused severe damage to his hand and forearms, therefore wears lots of gloves and longsleves, is almost never seen without them

doesn't like taking them off and and especially not in front of others

he gives "loved school and was really good at it" vibes which came in handy later down the line

NON EXISTENT LOVE LIFE, this mf was busy on his killing spree, no time for ladies

but still upholds his gentleman virtues and treats everyone with basic respect cause he's not a dick he just is bad at expressing his emotions

He feels like the type of person to very heavily dislike the use of profanity but once HE starts using it, you know you fucked up BAD.

Bonus: is very careful with his wording around children

Speaking of kids, he can tolerate them and is kind of fascinated by them with the way they think

He's okay with not being the person the kids go up to, but on the rare occasion that one does, you better believe he is treating them so kindly and so sweetly, maybe even giving them a smile

Has adopted Donna in his mind and doesn't mind the fact that she seems to hate his guts, he still treats her kindly and respectfully, goes out of his way to protect and care for her like a big brother/dad

Same thing with Klee

He definitely donates his money, come on

he wears a nightgown to bed, COME ON

goes to bed with his hair down and wonders why his hair is all messy in the morning

Not all his scars from his years as a man on the run; some are from his childhood (aside from the mental scarring) like small scrapes or cuts from playing outside

Has a REALLY BAD habit of overworking himself but not to the point of getting himself sick/risking his health, still pushes himself a little too much tho

Has definitely fallen asleep at his desk more than once

Has definitely called Adelinde Mom/mother in both childhood and adulthood

She thinks it's adorable

THIS MAN IS STACKED AS FUCK

he is buff as fuck and forgets his own strength sometimes, especially when it's inventory day and hes moving a shit ton of boxes without breaking a sweat

uuuuuhhhhh

fat milkers, don't @ me

that's all folks

I'll probably do another one of these where's it's focused on Diluc as a romantic partner

also sorry for being so passive aggressive, I just really like Diluc :3

#diluc ragnvindr #genshin diluc #headcanon #genshin impact #genshin headcanons

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dykeomania · 2 years

Text

a hinge/tinder date with ellie starts awkwardly. the realization that you, as wlw, have both succumbed to the dating network app craze is a hard, but inevitable pill that you both swallow. it's one that you get over once elllie meets you in the cafe, stumbling in, all haste and made of apologies. the red line ran late and because the red line was late, her transfer over to the orange line was also a bit delayed and then there was this guy who was being a dick and she had to yell at him a little and it took up so much time and she misread which coffee shop so she had to walk from point a to point b super fast and she is so, so so sorry, but honestly? you're kind of wrapped up in the fact that .. she's even cuter than her pictures. you can tell by how they're fading that her freckles have chosen to bloom a little bit differently this past summer, and that her hair is a little bit shorter. it's usually in a bun, or a half-bun, at least from what you've assumed from her pictures. but this time it's completely down. and she's got this brown corduroy jacket on, and blundstones, and loose jeans that have a carabiner attached to one of the loops (which really didn't make sense to you, in retrospect -- she took the train, why does she have her car keys? gay signaling, you suppose) and she's honestly a little bit shorter than you'd imagined, but like... she's so fucking cute. so you're like, it's okay. i was kinda late too. as in, i got here 5 minutes ago. and you give each other a smile because you can't really be mad at each other, and once you stand, she asks you if you've ever been to the cafe before.

she pays for your coffee, and takes you on the best goddamned tour of boston that you think you've ever been on. you base this not off of the amount of places that you go to, but purely just based off of vibes. you spend too much money in chinatown because the food is so good and so outrageously inexpensive. you sunbathe, bond, and pet dogs in the boston common. you get hot cider, and take a walk along the charles river, and chat shit for ages. you learn that she doesn't really know where home is, but her dad who isn't really her dad lives in wyoming with her uncle who isn't really her uncle. you learn that she's the first in her family to go to college, and originally, she chose BU, but switched over to MIT because the physics program is better. you're like, well what do you wanna do? and she's like, honestly? i have no fucking idea. but she tells you about how when she was little, she wanted to be astronaut and if the stars align and she gets her internship at NASA this summer, maybe she'll see it through. you make jokes about lesbians in space, and almost burn your tongues. the chill in the air tells you that it's probably time to get away from the water, so you get up and start walking again.

by this point, she's content with handing off her jacket to you and easily waltzes around in the black t-shirt she's wearing with some logo in the upper right corner and a design on the back. the hair has inevitably gone up in a bun. and by this point, you've kind of walked around the same circle, over and over and over again. so randomly you're like, it's such a flex, being able to go to mit or harvard. and she's like, well you could technically go there. and all the sudden you're giving each other looks and then all the sudden you're dipping into the nearest mbta station and she's bought your train ticket and now you're hopping from the orange line, to the red line (which is surprisingly up and running, thank fucking god)

ellie's actual dorm is a single, and therefore a shoebox. but the building, and mit's campus, is huge. you walk around a little just for vibes and she shows you where she cried over her midterm last week and where she did homework literally less than 48 hours ago. but the second the sun dips, you're back in her room, and the lighting is low. you talk music, and she plays you a couple of songs off of her mac -- some that she puts you onto, some that are so familiar to the two of you that you both wind up singing it to each other. you talk, and talk, and talk, and eventually you're like, you play guitar? and then she's playing you guitar when you sit across from her on her bed, and then suddenly, she's playing you your favorite song. and she's singing it in a tone that's a lot gentler. a lot shyer. and this is like, the moment where 12 year old you is looking at you now-age you and is like, this is your coming of age romance moment. this is it. and suddenly, it becomes so still. and suddenly ellie's complimenting the color of your eyes. and suddenly, you're close enough to realize that ellie's eyes are actually like 4 different colors. and suddenly, you can feel the heat of each other's faces, and suddenly you can feel the small bit of damage that the cold has done to her lips against your own, and suddenly you're reaching for each other's faces and she's got to move her guitar off her lap--

when you wake up the next morning, it's kind of a blur. ellie isn't there, but she didn't wake you. she instead left you a note. something about how she has a 9am. something about how she'd love to do this again sometime. something about texting her when you get home. there's a bagel and a green juice from her campus cafe with your name on it, and she doesn't necessarily imply that you have to return the shirt that you slept in.

your friends have your location and they notice you've been in one sector of town for far too long. on your way out of her dorm, you check your text messages. the main one that pestered you into actually going forward with the date asks you, so, how was it?

and you smile you sip your green juice, and text her back with one hand saying, it was good. but then you pause, hit the backspace key a few times and correct your phrase to, it was great.

#:)#ellie williams x reader #ellie williams #cute cute cute #this isnt the fic #just a diddy

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pzyii · 1 month

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drawing/explanation of buffy and/or dawn summers scars/design? i love ur willow and i want to know how u think abt buffy & dawn

ah thank youuu!!! I love to talk designs so I will do my best, I haven5 done any refrence sheet with either of them and def have less hcs cause well willow is the center of my brain but I do very much have thoughts. (I’ve got a criminally low amount of Dawn drawings despite the fact she’s my second favourite character)

doing a lil cut off cause it’s prob gonna be a lot of text, warning self harm mention at the Dawn part!!!

so starting with buffy. Some little details include that I draw her with moles cause they’re pretty and I like having more texture on the skin when I draw it, I draw her with a tooth gap cause it’s cute and fun, aswell as curly hair cause she has it every now and then but mainly cause I loveeeee drawing curly hair aswell as bc my bf has curly hair and buffy makes me think of her so yeah :) as well as shark bites every now and then bc of the same reason. I loveee drawing her with bandanas as well as whatever those things she wears in the drawing below are called.

Onto scars I don’t have many that specific ones. I don’t have her like injuries as memorized as I do willows and also yk slayer healing. Face scars I only really draw her with one, that being an eyebrow scar she got after getting a piercing in s4 that IMMEDIATELY got ripped out on patrol (willow took care of it, Joyce didn’t even have time to panic over the piercing before having the scar as her whole new problem)

i often draw her with scars on her knuckles cause punching and/or bandaids on them and her fingers, the bandaids on her fingers are also partly cause well splinters, preventory measure. I often draw her with bandages and bandaids on the rest of her body too. They aren’t often that needed or needed for a long time but still, keeping the wounds from infection.

other than that i tend to give her the scar from when she was shot in seeing red (tho im thinking about making it like, look less like a normal scar since it was healed with like, really strong dark magic). And then just small and big random scars that don’t really have specific connections (she can’t herself remember when she got most of them. Too many fights. Too many scars, they become insignificant, but there's still too many, she knows that much)

as you can probably notice I loveee enhancing Buffys childish whimsy cause she lost a lot of her more so teenage years than childhood-childhood and I like to let her just breathe

Onto Dawn, my dearest, everyone’s little sister.

she has a tooth gap just like her sister as well as mini mini canine looking teeth like some people (Michelle trachtenberg included) have.

draw her hair mostly straight but I’d probably say it’s at least wavy, I at least used to draw her with vitiligo and Marie Antoinette syndrome and I’m not sureee about that head-canon anymore but I still like it, so it’s 50-50

she also has freckles!!!!

For scars I really don’t have much check on canon injuries with her but I’ve got some

She has scars from when glory opened/tried to open the portal in the gift, it serves as a reminder of what happened also logically speaking she’d just simply probably keep those scars

she still has her scar from blood ties, but other than that I hc that she’s had a continued problem with sh so therefore just like with willow, she has multiple sh scars on mainly her arms.

Her eyes stares into your soul so bad. Get contact lenses /j

#buffy summers #dawn summers #i adoreeeee them #Pzyii answers #Btvs #btvs rambles #buffy the vampire slayer #pzyii arts

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sneakydraws · 1 year

Text

Okay so!! Here's a little wap design compilation - not exhaustive, both because of the image limit and because there's many things I'm not settled on but I want to post some of it at least~

Organised by families because familial resemblence or lack thereof is one of my favourite factors in chardes! And because Tolstoy is so good at creating these family dynamics of shared traits! First, the Bolkonskys:

Lise, Mlle Bourienne and Nikolai jr. not included for now, maybe later. The shared traits I gave them all (therefore presumably coming from Nikolai's side) are sharp, angular features with a beaked nose and high cheekbones, thin figures and straight, dark hair. Both Andrei and Nikolai are described as short, so initially I wanted to apply this to them all, but then I thought it would be cool to emphasise Andrei's similarity to his father AND separate Marya out by making her much taller than them. It works really well because Andrei and Nikolai are both short yet straightened out to their full height while Marya cowers and hunches to hide hers - which also works to create the unattractive figure she's described as having. I use heads to note height - as in, how many heads tall a character is - mostly because numerous manga art tutorials ingrained those in me <:3c Nikolai has his signature bushy eyebrows, and his clothes and hair are inspired by his depiction in the first soviet wap movie because I really liked it!

In general I spent the most time on Andrei, both because he's my favourite and because he has a lot of tantalisingly sparse and at times interestingly contrasting descriptions - he's meant to look unassuming, his small and slender figure hiding his impressive stamina and his cushy administrative position contrasting with the rugged hussars (and his small hands are mentioned as well) but he has sharp features, and his design should showcase his proud, decisive nature as well.

The Rostovs! Not including the count and countess because while I have some features in mind I haven't made up my mind yet on the overall designs, and excluding Vera for reasons I'll divulge later. These Rostov kids are all energetic, emotionally driven and strong-willed and I wanted to reflect that in their designs - most of all in their hair, which is curly and kind of fluffy, making big, untamed shapes - I decided this they would have inherited from the Count. They're all rather short (I think some of the Rostovs are described as short so I extended it to the whole family) and a little stockier than the Bolkonskys - Natasha's figure is really incosistent because she gains and loses weight a lot over the book, but I settled on the slightly heavier side mostly to contrast with Sonya. I also love freckles and always associate them with energy and youthfulness so they got given to the Rostovs - presumably from the Count's side again. And their eyes and hair are all black or dark brown!

BIG RAMBLING RANT: The Countess is described as having "oriental features" and I wanted to incorporate that into the kids because it's like the most detail we ever get on someone's overall facial features lol but it turned out kind of frustratingly vague. I think my first idea was towards Georgia because Pierre mentions a woman with Georgian features in 1812, and because my ballets russes research included a very orientalist ballet about a georgian queen. I didn't find very good references though and turned next to Armenia, and when I found someone talking about common Armenian features that fit what I already had in mind for the Rostovs I ended up using that. However, later I realised those countries are in Western Asia and don't really fit the descriptor of "oriental (eastern)" from the perspective of Russia... Now I'm looking more towards the Kalmyk and Bashkir people after seeing them mentioned in one of my interlibrary books so I might revise the Rostovs yet. I did get kind of attached to the nose though so I'll do my best to keep it haha

The odd ones out in the Rostov household!! Sonya is, I believe, related to the Rostovs on the Count's side so maybe it would make sense to give her the fluffy hair and freckles, but she has enough descriptions in the book to form a separate design on her own (and she's only a second cousin to the Rostov kids, so it's pretty far away anyway). She's compared to a graceful kitten, described as almost unattractively thin and with a sallow skin, so I thought it would fit her to have a slightly unwell air, with portruding collarbones and a slight hunch. She also has her dark double braid.

Vera was fun once I got the idea to make her look very different from her siblings - to mirror her personality being completely different (cool, impassionate, meanspirited at times) and to visually reflect how she's disliked by the Countess - perhaps almost looking like she's not her parents' child 👀 She's taller and slimmer than her siblings, with straighter and lighter in colour hair, and her features are more smooth and soft. No freckles either.

The Kuragins! Those guys are fun. I have Anatole as the tallest in the cast (save for Pierre), and Helene as the tallest woman, with Ippolit the same height as her. Helene and Ippolit in general are described as having the same features so they ended up almost looking like twins! Later I'll talk a bit more about their facial features and hair but in terms of silhouettes, Helene has to have her round shoulders and impressive bosom (and low neckline), while Anatole has to look all broad-shouldered and masculine. He was actually the hardest to draw because I kept feeling like his head was too small and his whole body too long... I might go back and make him a bit broader still. A book I have says the elite life guards of the Russian army were known for their impressive, immaculate appearance, with some men padding their uniforms to add volume to their chest... That made me think of Anatole lmao.

A little roll call to show everyone's height in relation to each other.

More about the Kuragins! I tackled Helene with the aim to make her beautiful by the standards of the time, and luckily there's actually an 1812 bust of the Greek Helene! It was too poerfect of a coincidence so I leaned heavily into it. I find that typical features of ancient Greek or 19th century Hellenistic busts are a very straight nose that flows smoothly from the forehead, a very round jawline with a somewhat portruding chin and that particular curve of the neck. I gave Helene all of those along with heavily-lidded, downturned eyes and an expression that hopefully conveys calm confidence and intelligence. Ippolit is supposed to have the same features but made to look ugly by his stupid expression - this actually turned out easier than I thought? Though it might just be that the moustache looks kind of stupid - maybe I should try a version without it. Anatole I thought ought to look impressive and masculine so in the end I kept the squarer jaw and strong forehead (and I couldn't resist the slicked back hair) but I considered a more Hellenistic version too, with the short curls and round jaw. Helene's hair was tricky because none of the styles I saw felt quite right - I settled on a sort of combo of the Hellenistic curls from the statue but a bit looser with the braid she's described to have in the book. She'd also probably wear a lot of hair accessories but I'll have to do more research on those.

More Natasha and Sonya, and Andrei - Andrei is so difficult!! I always kind of oscillate between "stern, strong-willed soldier", "sharp-featured intellectual" and "soft pampered prince/troubled poet" (where I try and fail to imitate this gorgeous illustration by Vadimir Serov). The Brutus haircut is tempting in its historical accuracy, but I'm just a little bit too fond of the immaculately slicked back hair...

Edit: I completely forgot @visualnoteslibrary was on Tumblr!! Thank you so much for collecting all the descriptions, you spared me quite the Easter egg hunt through the Gutenberg version <3

#war and peace #oh boy...#andrei bolkonsky #old prince bolkonsky #marya bolkonskaya #natasha rostova #nikolai rostov #petya rostov #sonya rostova #vera rostova #anatole kuragin #helene bezukhova #ippolit kuragin #visualnoteslibrary

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crescentpaws · 2 months

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fintan hcs? 👀

alright now we’ve got. headcanons but exclusively pre-neverseen era:

- he had freckles as a kid because i say so (and then they got really light as a young adult .like most people wouldn’t have noticed them if they weren’t paying attention. doesn’t rlly have any now tho.)

- gem on councillor circlet was red sunstone because… i don’t know man it just seems so obvious. red? obvious. SUNstone? obvious (sun=everblaze).

- he was besties with bronte and fallon vacker when he was a councillor because i think it would be funny. world’s worst bff squad.

- ^^ and can’t forget about him and bronte millennia-long situationship (it’s real guys trust me)

- the reason luzia vacker hates him so much is bc one of the pyrokinetics that died during the everblaze incident was her gf 😔🤚 (we never see orem’s dad so i’m just assuming she got divorced LMAO) (oh yeah & i’ve got actual designs for a couple of those pyrokinetics help)

- after the pyrokinesis ban he would sometimes go to cold/snowy places to re-center himself just because there was less heat and therefore would be harder to lose control…. but present-day he hates the cold obviously

- & he deffff considered k!lling himself after the accident bc like. how do you even deal with the guilt of that bro 😭 he was probably so disgusted with himself that he was the one who survived that

- i imagine his old personality (that is, before he was traumatized by the everblaze incident & pyrokinesis ban) was definitely on the charming yet cocky side… which i mean can sort of already be seen by how he manipulates people into getting what he wants and how he’s an expert at telling people exactly what they want to hear (even though he’s lying 99% of the time). and the fact that in his evil speeches he’s either smirking or looking extremely smug like half the time. like we KNOW he had an ego even before he became evil. but i feel like he still would’ve been that councillor that everyone liked yk (except then of course he becomes the one everyone hates literally overnight). he certainly knows how to captivate an audience. got that ex-councillor charisma

#suicide ment. ??? 🤨🤨#kotlc #keeper of the lost cities #kotlc fintan #fintan pyren #luzia vacker #asks #kotlc headcanons

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micahdoesmusic · 11 months

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Thinking about the Riptide Pirates and the stars!!

I visited my friend the other day who lives on a farm and god the stars were so gorgeous further out from town it got me thinking; the night sky must be gorgeous in Mana. (I know there’s definitely industrial features - therefore pollution - in Edison Kingdom, but either way, out on the sea the stars would be STUNNING.) Like hear me out and picture this with me,,

I’m imagining Chip after the Black Sea, washed up all alone, staring up at a the void of space and tears spilling from his eyes.

I’m imagining Jay staring up at the sky after her sister’s death, wondering if she’s watching up there and promising to avenge her.

I’m imagining Gillion surfacing not long after his banishment, laying under a starry sky for the first time.

I’m imagining countless nights on the deck of the albatross; stargazing, celebrating, talking, fighting, rambling, crying. All of that under a gorgeous sky aggh the imagery!!

I just know Gillion would find so much beauty in it. Chip and Jay would tell him little myths or folk stories about the stars. They’d just sit there and watch after a rough day or on a sleepless night, quietly watching or pointing out whatever constellations they’d happen to know.

(Don’t even get me started on Gillion confusing Chip’s freckles as stars I love that head cannon so much-)

#jrwi #jrwi riptide #just roll with it #gillion tidestrider #chip jrwi #jay ferin #albatrio #riptide pirates #stars #stargazing #jrwi hcs #hcs #I love them so much my sillies!!

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perceabeth · 2 years

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“that moment where your character just… looks. just looks at their love interest for more than five seconds and doesn’t understand why or how this earth can exist and the sun and moon exist and the sky can be an eternal source of happiness and yet this person right here can bring so much more warmth and comfort to them with just a single glance” you wld do this SOOOOOO well (as you wld all of them but this one has me w my head in my hands)

cicada my beloved happy happy bday i know this isn't exactly what u said but i tried hope it helps <3333

Annabeth really does not want to be having this conversation right now.

“I’m just saying,” If Silena has registered her disinterest, she doesn’t let it affect her flow. “It wouldn’t hurt. Besides, he owes you a date anyway, so you might as well, right?”

“It wasn’t a date.” Annabeth complains and Clarisse barks out a hearty laugh, leaning back against the stone steps in the amphitheatre and taking a sip of water. Annabeth scowls. “What? It wasn’t! We were supposed to catch a movie but he’s, like, totally into this other girl.”

“Is she pretty?”

“Kind of.” Annabeth thinks about it. “She’s got freckles. I suppose that’s pretty.”

“So you’re jealous.” Silena concludes. “Which means you totally like Percy, and therefore, coming back to my original point– you should ask him to the fireworks.”

Annabeth is not impressed, but it’s harder to wear it on her face when she’s spending all this effort fighting the outrageous heat that’s creeping up to her cheeks. “I don’t like Percy. He’s like– he’s like this thorn in my side.”

“He’s an idiot.” Clarisse agrees. Then she tilts her head to the side and considers it. “But I’d say you were more a pain in his ass than the other way around.”

“No way.” Silena shakes her head, interrupting before Annabeth could voice her outrage. “Annabeth’s right. He’s worse.”

“Annabeth is bossy.” Clarisse challenges.

“Percy is hyper-argumentative.” Silena counters.

“Annabeth is a hothead.”

“So is Percy.”

“Annabeth–”

“Hey!” Annabeth cuts in. “Annabeth can hear you, you know? And she doesn’t like what she’s hearing.”

“Fine. Then scram.” Clarisse kicks her ankle lightly with hers. “This practice session was a spectacular waste of time. We got no sparring done and if a war does come to us, I’m pretty sure Silena’s going to be the first to die.”

“Excuse me.” Silena turns on Clarisse then, holding up her perfectly manicured hands. “I happen to be gifted with these nails. You don’t know the damage I can do, La Rue.”

“Your acrylics versus the Lord of Time. Interesting.” Clarisse pretends to think about it. “Let’s hope Annabeth kills the Prophecy Kid this summer so none of us have to deal with that coming to fruition.”

“Whatever. Give me two weeks and I’ll kick your ass with a spear.”

“I’d like to see you try.”

Even as Annabeth sits between her friends, she feels herself drifting away– as if the scene in front of her is already becoming a memory; as if this is one of those moments she’ll revisit every so often as she moves forward– like she stood on the precipice of the End of something, even if she doesn’t know what yet.

“Annabeth.” A man’s voice draws her out of her thoughts. All three girls turn around to see Quintus standing over them, Percy only a few steps behind him. He peers around their sword fighting teacher to meet Annabeth’s eye, his lips quirking upwards slightly, and her heart somersaults. “I was hoping you and Percy could give me a hand– clean out the armoury for me?”

“It’s my time off.” Annabeth whines. Why is Percy always dragging her into sharing his chores with him?

“Come on, Wise Girl.” Percy matches her tone. “Two pairs of hands are better than one, right?”

“I hate you.” Annabeth grumbles, taking Quintus’ hand and letting him pull her off the ground. Silena wriggles her eyebrows at her and Clarisse smirks, so when their teacher’s back is turned to her, Annabeth flips them off. It does little to subdue them, though, because their cackles echo through the amphitheatre long after she’s left.

“What is this?” Percy pulls out a wicked blade attached to the end of a long, heavy stick. “Oh my gods, is this a javelin? I didn’t even realise we had them here.”

“Yeah,” Annabeth snorts. “As if you could fight with one of those.”

“You calling me weak?”

“I’m just saying that your arms are kind of skinny.”

“You’re one to talk.” Percy cries. There’s something so endearing about the indignation on his face that Annabeth bursts out laughing. Sometimes it’s like Percy does it deliberately– knows exactly how to behave to make uncontrollable giggles bubble in her tummy. If he notices, he doesn’t pay mind to it, instead focusing on clearing the nearest table and resting his elbow on the surface. He looks up at her, unspoken challenge framing his features in a special kind of light. “I’m way stronger than you– so only come here if you’re willing to lose.”

“As if.” Annabeth rolls her eyes, taking his hand and grinding her bony elbow painfully into the wood. Percy’s eyes leave hers, drifting to their hands, his fingers curled tightly around hers, and she doesn’t miss the way his breathing stutters slightly. An unattractive smugness fights its way to her lips. Maybe Silena was right– she could totally ask him to the fireworks– but right now, she has other priorities. She leans forward. “You’re going to get beaten by a girl, Seaweed Brain.”

“Oh yeah?” Percy, as always, matches her exact energy, narrowing his eyes and lowering his voice. “Joke’s on you, I’m used to it.”

Annabeth grins. “Good.”

“Okay, on three.” Percy says. “One, two–”

The back of his hand crashes into the table. For a moment, he looks confused, blinking at their still entwined hands resting on the wooden surface. Slowly, his grip tightens around her palm, his smooth features twisting into a scowl.

“You cheated.” He says, dangerously quiet. Then he pushes back against her hand until he can pin it down. Annabeth struggles to pull away, but it’s like fighting against iron.

“Let go.” She laughs, but Percy doesn’t budge. The same evil part of her that cheated crows. “Percy, stop.”

“No. You cheated. You have to pay.” Percy’s face breaks into a grin, his shining eyes bright in the dimly lit glorified cupboard they’re stuck in. In a flash, he’s on her side of the table, his fingers digging into her sides, and a squeal escapes her.

“Percy!” Annabeth feels her knees giving way as she drops to the floor, taking her friend down with her. When he finally does stop tickling her, she’s out of breath, her cheeks sore from the laughter. Next to her, Percy leans his head against the leg of the table, his face flushed and his chest heaving, a manic smile on his lips.

“You’re such an asshole, Annabeth.” He doesn’t sound offended by it.

Instead of replying, Annabeth is content to watch him catch his breath, leftover laughter still breaking out from him in throaty splits. Miraculously, his hair is even messier now than it was this morning, but Annabeth thinks it suits him. His lips are parted, and for a second, she wonders what it might be like to be able to lean over and kiss him. She’s never kissed a boy before– but Silena and Clarisse have, and they both seem to enjoy it a ton. For a while in the winter, she’d considered kissing one of the boys at Camp, but they’re all gross. She wonders if she’d like kissing Percy.

It’s like that a lot. Ever since the winter, when he’d admitted that he’d only gone on a quest to save her– Annabeth had found it difficult to even think about him without her stomach exploding into a kaleidoscope of butterflies. Now that he’s back at Camp, back with her– she’s starting to realise just how much more she likes him than anybody else around here. This isn’t how she felt about Luke, not how she felt about any of the boys she’d had a crush on before. With Percy, she’s come to realise, everything is different.

How is it possible, Annabeth finds herself wondering, that she exists in this world at the same time that he does? He’d come into her life, a whirlwind of grief and anger and adventure and something she doesn’t want to dwell on– and he’d healed her, inside and out. Not by trying; not by finding all her broken pieces– but simply by existing. Percy lives, and Annabeth is better for it. He lives, and the sun above them dims, the moon loses her brilliance, the colours in the world dull. Does he know that?

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Percy draws her out of her thoughts, touching his cheek consciously. “Have I got something on my face?”

“Yeah.” Annabeth lies hollowly, reaching over and brushing her thumb over his jaw. Is that a stubble? When’d he get so mature? She swallows thickly. “You’re good.”

“Thanks.” Percy mumbles, holding her gaze. It’s a loaded, slow moment, but she draws away first. She always does– in all honesty, Annabeth is a coward. He must sense it, because he brushes his fingers over her wrist and says, “It’s a shame, you know.”

“What?”

A wicked smile grows on his lips. “I never got to beat your ass.”

“You’re deluded, Percy.” Annabeth pokes his shoulder. “You couldn’t beat me if my arm was broken.”

“Wanna bet?” Percy demands. “Rematch. I win, you tell everyone at Camp how strong and impressive I am. You win, and… I’ll shut up about my strong, impressive arms for an entire summer.”

Annabeth can’t fight the smile only he ever seems to bring out in her. He’d chosen his words carefully, just as he always did. A new dawn falls upon them, an idea of this summer being one of many more. A summer in the future after Annabeth’s victory when Percy could go back to bragging about his bicep curl personal bests. What could be better? “You’re so on.”

#cicada #d4dpercabeth #iconic url btw #still iconic #percabeth fanfiction #i kinda forgot my writing tag im ngl <3 #q&a

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