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headcans-oneshots-and-stuff · 3 years

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Hogwarts No.1 Ship

Fandom: Harry Potter Pairing: Draco Malfoy x reader Word count: 3.4k Summary: You - Rubeus Hagrid’s niece and a surprising slytherin - have a crush on the Slytherin prince himself, but you are sugar and he is spice and there is no world where the two of you would fit together...right? Warning: Swearwordsm concussion, broken bones, but mostly fluffffffffff Requested by the amazing and patient (I’m really sorry it took so long) @onlycherryblossom: Hi! I love your work and I was wondering if you could right a Draco Malfoy x Reader. you know, the one we talked about. It'd be so awesome! i hope you have a good day/night! (I won’t put our chat in here so that I don’t spoiler anything)

Hogwarts had rarely ever known two students who were as opposite to each other as Draco Malfoy and Y/N Hagrid. Draco - who was the embodiment of how people imagined the stereotype of Slytherin to be - was (most of the time) a prideful, cold, unempathetic prick, while you were a selfless, positive thinking, kind and gentle soul that could‘ve been a descendant of Helga Huffelpuff herself. The two of you did have one thing in common though. Your house. The hat had made you both into Slytherins which was on Draco’s side not surprising at all, but quite a shock for everyone who had talked to you for even a minute. Probably the biggest shock was courtesy of Rubeus Hagris - Half-Giant and your adopted uncle (on his father’s side) - who insisted that the hat must have made a mistake, but was quickly shot down by Dumbledoor who assured that the hat didn‘t make any mistakes. After some initial tumbling though, Hagrid realized that the house didn‘t make the person and that it didn‘t matter in what house you were sorted into, you’d always be his little pumpkin. And he was quite right. Even after you had been a Slytherin for just about five years, you had only grown more kind and loving - having bonded with many people in the other houses and years, but not quite as many in your own house. You’d call Blaze and Millicent maybe something close to friends and Pansy tolerated you which is why you gave her the title of ‘good acquaintances‘, but other than that you didn‘t really have a lot of contact with them in your free time. The most complicated relationship you held though was the one to the aforementioned Draco Malfoy. In a weird twist of fate the two of you somehow became the main ship in Hogwarts (with Harry and Ginny or Harry and Hermione as close second) even though you couldn‘t remember more than two or three times that you had talked to the boy outside of a classroom or study environment. Sure, he had never bullied or teased you which already differentiated you from most of the students, but you simply explained it by the fact that you were a good student - especially in potions class - and behaved well enough to gain a number of house points which made you into a good asset to Slytherin and as such made you a less logical target. Now all in itself that would‘ve been more than fine with you, but for some stupid reason your heart decided to betray you against it‘s better judgement and fall for him. Somehow, even after years of seeing him kick others down and behave like a complete douchebag you couldn‘t help but blush slightly at the mention of his name and feel your heart flutter when you walked by him in the hall or in the common room. The worst part was in potions class where he sat right beside you after Snape deemed your former partner as way too unqualified for one of his best students and exchanged him for Draco. Working with him in and of itself was actually rather nice. He was a good student and did his work thoroughly and mindfully, but you found it hard to concentrate when his hand brushed yours as you read a passage in the book or when he poured ingredients in the coultron that you were stirring. You really tried to ignore your feelings and ban every thought of him, but it seemed like you weren‘t doing the best job at it since your uncle kept asking about what it was that was distracting you all the time. On a rainy October day fairly at the beginning of your fifth year you decided you had enough. You were sitting in your Uncles hut with a plate of more or less edible cookies in front of you and a cup of something that was surely supposed to be tea when you finally gathered the courage to say what you had been meaning to say for weeks now. “Uncle Rubeus, can I ask you something?” Hagrid turned to you with his usual smile as he patted fang who was drooling all over his lap where he had laid his head. “Course ya can pumpkin. What’s it about?” “Uhm...well… you know there is this boy that I-“ “Ohhh Ah see,” Hagrid quickly interrupted you before you could even ask the question, “Ya know, usually I’d be more than happy to help ya with every question you have but ah really don’t thin’ I’m the right person for this, I’m sorry.” A little bit disappointed but not really surprised you just sighed and shook your head, telling him that it was okay, before bidding your goodbyes and making your way back to the castle quietly mulling over what exactly your plan b should be now that plan a had failed and you still had no idea what to do with or how to get rid of your stupid crush on Draco.

“You know what I would do if I were you?“ Ginny asked and pointed the end of her quill at you. The both of you were sitting in a corner of the library where you had planned to help her study for her upcoming potions exam, only for her to basically interrogate you until you admitted that you had an unlucky crush, even though she luckily hadn‘t pushed you to tell her who the guy you had a crush on was. “I‘d probably just tell them, I mean what do you have to lose. Either he‘ll say yes and you‘re happy or he says no and you just avoid him like he doesn‘t even exist - which would honestly be the appropriate reaction if he refuses a snack like you. See, no real downside to it.“ “Oh really? Hmmm, I wonder why you haven‘t told Harry how you feel yet then,“ you teased her and tapped your chin. Ginny‘s face immediately started to rival the colour of her hair and the way she crossed her arms in front of her chest and pouted reminded you of an overgrown toddler - but in a cute way. “I-I don‘t like Harry, okay? I mean I did when I was like ten because he was famous and I was a child,“ she tried to make sure you really knew how silly she wanted you to believe she thought it was by drawing out the word child for a good few seconds before rolling her eyes and looking to the side, “And anyway, it‘s not like he‘d date his best friend’s sister…“ “Oh Gin,“ you immediately felt bad and grabbed one of her hands with yours, “Have you looked at yourself? You‘re amazing and if Harry doesn‘t see that through his stupid invisible cloak and these glasses than he doesn‘t even deserve you.“ “Even though I admit that yes, I am amazing, this isn‘t the topic that we should be conversing about right now, remember? I think there‘s a certain blond Slytherin that you should be worried about more right now.“ Immediately blood shot right to your cheeks and you quickly looked around to make sure no one could‘ve heard her before leaning forward and hissing: “What? No? I don‘t like Draco? Why would you even think that? I never said that he is the one I have a crush on.“ Ginny just raised her eyebrows in an unimpressed manner, leaning back in her chair and picking the quill back up to play around with while she talked. “Listen honey, I‘m not judging you or anything. Don‘t get me wrong, I still and probably will always think Draco is a major asshole and doesn‘t even deserve to breath the same air as you-“ “He isn‘t that bad…“ “Yes he is, but anyways, no matter what I think of him I also know that you are a clever girl that knows how to protect herself and who knows, maybe you‘d even have a good influence on him.“ Images of you and Draco together with your friend group laughing and having fun crossed your mind and you could feel your heartbeat fasten involuntarily. “That‘s all great and good, but like I said, I don‘t have a crush on Draco,“ you gave the hope of getting out of this situation with the lie you‘ve been telling yourself for months still intact one last try, but Ginny didn‘t give it the time of day. “Oh please, I see the way you look at him in the dining hall and how your eyes are always on him when he‘s playing quidditch and just now you defended him even though the two of you aren‘t even friends. My love-radar is pinging like crazy around the two of you which is why I, Ginny Wealey also known as the love witch-“ “No one calls you that,“ you interrupted her only to be shushed by an evil glare. “I, Ginny Weasley, will help you in fulfilling your desire and getting together with Draco and I already have the perfect plan.“ “No no no no, please don‘t! Don‘t do this! Ginny no!“ you tried to make your point clear but she was already cleaning up her stuff and getting ready to leave. “Don‘t worry oh sweet Y/N, the next time we‘ll talk everything will be set in motion,“ she winked before dashing off leaving you standing in her figurative dust with your mouth agape for a few seconds before you let your head sink onto the table. This would definitely take an interesting turn…

After that you definitely started to actively avoid Draco which was - surprisingly enough - not as easy as you thought. Somehow he was almost always at least in your near vicinity. Besides the obvious factors of class (where you tried to focus on working and on praying whatever Ginny had planned wouldn‘t happen) and when you were eating in the great hall (where you had resorted to sitting at the very end of the table as far away from him as possible) he seemed to also be there in your free time. You were relaxing in the common room? He was there reading a book. You were outside with Harry and co.? Guess who’s coming their way to insult them (while not saying a single bad thing about you). By now there were just about three places where you were sure that he wouldn’t be able to pop up at any given moment. Your room, the bathroom and the potions classroom on Wednesday and Friday afternoon when class has already ended. After Snape had realized that he had some real potions-potential sitting in front of him he offered you extra credit as some sort of teaching assistant which basically meant that you helped him prepare lessons, helped him grade the first to third years tests and that you cleaned up and organized the potions classroom twice a week. Now usually, knowing that you were more than capable of handling the potions and ingredients standing around on your own after having seen you do it for a few months, you‘d be alone while you cleaned up except for the occasional visit of your professor to tell you which ingredients you should put on the students desks for the next class, but for some reason the next Friday - three days after Ginny had made her promise to you - the door already stood open and you could hear Professor Snape talking to someone. “I really expected better of you, your action is the reasons Slytherin has lost 50 housepoints and I hope you know that it is on you to gain them back, no matter your status,“ Snape‘s voice carried to where you stood and you wondered who the student was if Snape went so easy on them with his lecture. Usually you‘d be afraid for your life after losing even ten house points so getting such a calm reaction for 50 must‘ve really meant something. Your questions about the identity of the student were answered when you entered the dungeon room and immediately felt yourself freeze. Of course not even you (time dependent) sanctuary was safe anymore. Of course Draco just had to stand there and look at you without any identifiable emotion in his gaze. “Ah, Miss Hagrid, right on time as always,“ Snape nodded after he also noticed you and you felt slightly more at ease knowing that with him there nothing could really happen. “Should I come back later?” you asked politely, not sure if you had interrupted something. “No, you may stay. Mister Malfoy over here has got himself caught trying to sabotage McGonagall class, a childish act which I would’ve expected of the Weasleys but really not from you. As a punishment he will be the one to clean the potions classroom bi-weekly from now on until he has regained the house points lost. You’ll supervise him.” “I’m sorry, I’m not quite sure I understand.” “Malfoy will do all the cleaning but since he has no experience with it I can’t just leave him alone so, since you’d be here anyway, you can watch him and make sure that everything goes orderly.“ It wasn‘t really a question as much as a command, something that you were used to from Snape, so you just nodded and bid him goodbye as he went to his office, leaving you and Draco behind. By now you had seen through what was happening. This was Ginny‘s plan. Somehow she must‘ve managed to blame Malfoy for the prank on McGonagall - something rather extreme given the taken house points- hoping (or somehow knowing) that his punishment would force you to spend at least an hour with him alone in a dimmed room twice a week. Inwardly you cursed your friend, while outwardly you tried everything to avoid directly looking at Draco as you explained his tasks to him before you sat down at your usual place and pulled out a book really hoping you could get him to not talk to you that way. Either your plan was working great or Draco just really didn‘t care for you, because an hour later you still hadn‘t exchanged any words, instead he dutifully, but slightly pouting, had done his job while you shot him the occasional glance to make sure he was doing it correctly. “I think that was all, you should be good to go now,“ you told him with a small smile, relieved that you were finally free to leave the room and with that the tension that had built up inside you as a mix of nervousness and fear. Draco had opened his mouth to respond when a third year came rushing inside with at least twelve books in her arms that almost towered over her which she quickly placed on a table, slightly out of breath. “Professor Snape sent me. He said these have to be sorted and put away.” You could probably feel Draco’s sigh before he had made it and - not really fond of spending more time so frustratingly close to your crush and yet so far - you just nodded and told both of them that you’d take care of it and that they could leave, which both promptly did. You took the books and carried them to the back of the room where a sole, old bookshelf was standing - since the students mostly had their own books - and started putting them away when you heard a sickening crunch before suddenly the shelf including books came crashing down at you and before you could even think to pull out your wand, the world turned black.

“I’m so so so sorry, you were right I shouldn’t have interfered, if I’d just listened to you you wouldn‘t be lying here now,“ Ginny whined from beside your bed where she had been sitting for the past twenty minutes apologizing over and over again and blaming herself for the broken arm, leg and the concussion that had you unable to leave the infirmary for the next three days to a week. “Ginny, how often do I gotta tell you, it isn’t your fault! I would’ve sorted those books in anyways - no matter if you had pulled that prank or not - and it would’ve fallen anyways,” you tried to reassure her and gave her a soft smile. “But-“ “No but, okay? We can’t change the past anyways, and even if we could I wouldn’t because thanks to you, I don’t have to take that stupid DADA test.” Your attempt to lighten the mood seemed to work, because soon you and Ginny were back to your usual conversation-style and it relieved you immensely. It made you feel okay again. She was just telling you of a stung Harry had pulled in the Gryffindor Common room when she suddenly paused mid sentence and looked up. You followed her eyes to where they were placed firmly on a certain Platinum blond boy that looked simultaneously like he’d rather be everywhere else and like he was glad to be there, it was a sight to see. “I think I’ll leave for now, I’ll come back later with tons of sweets that Luna and I are going to steal from Harry’s personal stash,” Ginny said goodbye and gave you a wink as she walked away making you torn between wanting to roll your eyes and feeling yourself blush. Unsure of what to do next you motioned to the chair that Ginny had just occupied and Draco seemed to get the hint because he quickly sat down. “Hey-“ “Hi-“ “Sorry, you first.” “No it’s fine, you’re injured, you go first.” “Well, uhm-“ you took a deep breath to calm yourself down, “-I wanted to thank you, for bringing me here I mean, Madame Pomfrey told me you carried me all the way.” You looked away hoping that he wouldn’t see how nervous you were. “You don’t need to thank me, I couldn’t just let you lay there buried under books, your not Granger after all,” he said, seemingly trying to joke but immediately noticed that it was probably not the best thing to say given that you and Hermione were good friends. “Listen, what I came here for,” now it was Draco’s turn to take a deep breath, “I’ve been meaning to tell you something, but you were always with Potter or avoiding me or whatever, but after I saw you lying there… I guess I was just worried for you, I really don’t want you to get hurt.” Now that definitely caught your attention. For a second you played with the thought that this could possibly not be Malfoy but just someone else playing him with the help of polyjuice potion because he was definitely not acting like himself, but something in his word convinced you otherwise. “Thanks, I think, but would you mind me asking why? I mean...we’re not really the closest of friends,” you asked him, looking directly into his face to search signs of a possible answer. “Fuck it, I like you, okay? Happy?” You were completely stunned. Stunned, speechless, shocked. In all the time that you had been crushing on him you had never even really considered even the slightest possibility that he could reciprocate your feelings but now here he was telling you straight up. “You-You like me? Like like-like me?” You asked, just really wanting to be sure. There was a hint of nervousness and worry in his eyes, but he hid it behind a wall of annoyance. “You heard me, didn’t you? So, just get it over with, do you like me too or do you not, because if you don’t then I don’t want to waste my time any longer.” This definitely sounded more like the Draco you were used to and you had to giggle a little bit. “Yes, yes I like you too,” you confessed and like it was the most natural thing in the world you moved the uninjured hand over to where he laid on your bed and took it in yours. For the moment, you were caught in the shimmer of happiness and glee at having your crush there with you, definitely something more than your crush, and it would probably take a while until you‘d realize that there were some interesting things to follow, like telling your uncle about this for example...

#Draco Malfoy #Draco Malfoy x reader #draco #harry potter #hogwarts x reader #harry potter x reader #ginny weasley #professor venomous #oneshot #hogwarts oneshot #harry potter oneshots #hogwarts

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miraclespin · 2 years

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Okay so I remember you usually mentioning redesigns for Joker's parents and I'm pretty curious about what other headcanons you have on this version of them besides the whole white hair gene thing from his mom

I'm surprised you remembered that detail; it's been a long time since I brought that up in the server, hue! I'm also reconsidering that detail, since apparently he has an ancestor that looks almost exactly like him, named Jane Jones. (It was in a special manga chapter that was released to promote the 3DS game, I think; Lupin is also in it, and it is lowkey implied that he could also be Jack's ancestor, by way of him flirting with Jane when we first see them. I'd love to know more about it- I think Jack the Ripper is involved? But the odds of a proper translation happening now are... very low indeed...)

That said, his parents! Yes, before learning about Jane, I'd had him having the same hair as his mother, as well as the same eye color- but his father's general eye shape, as well as his fluffy hair... multiplied by a few degrees, heh. (Think of Jack's hair when he was younger, more so than when he gets a little older, and you'd have the right idea.)

Now that I know that his resemblance should come from his father's side instead, I've had to rethink about his mother a little bit. I still want her to have pale hair, but maybe not necessarily the exact same shade, because that'd be a bit weird. She's still at least half-Japanese, in order to make sense of a lot of Joker's favorite things being common amongst Japanese children, even when he's clearly implied to be from a Western country, that primarily speaks English. In canon, these details are surely just negligence on the part of the author and the people in charge of the anime (if you look at the official website, and translate Joker's profile page, you can see the list of his favorite foods: curry, hamburger steak, cola, potato chips, ramen, and I think sushi- Google Translate has them described as being "childish", if I recall correctly, which makes sense for a Japanese children's series protagonist, but less so for one that is apparently implied to be a Western foreigner).

Something I thought about changing was making her have vitiligo, instead, which means only a partial change in hair color; I changed the base color to a sort of warm pinkish shade, as well, so that she gives off a bit of a strawberries and cream sort of vibe- something that a young Jack would have found delightful. Desserts incorporating as much now remind him of her.

In regards to his father... I think I once had him being blonde, when I was considering early designs; his mother might've had dark hair at that time- but when I decided she had light hair, I eventually scrapped that idea and went with brown, for Reasons. Since I've acquired that new information, though, I've changed it to a dark, maybe purplish blue- once again for Reasons, that I mentioned earlier in this now-essay, hue. He has something of an angular eye-shape, though they're a bit more narrow than Jack's oversized puppy eyes- think something closer to Silver Heart's. They're also blue, but once again, more like Silver Heart's, down to even the strange pattern of the irises. (Can you see where I'm going with this?)

As for anything else... aside from ascribing a little bit of backstory for his mother (raised by a single mother; the result of a post-divorce relationship; has an older half-sister I sometimes use in AUs who basically hated her and is [usually] horrible to Jack in some way, even if it's not entirely intentional; the grandmother died when Jack was still young- well, younger), and even less so for his father (to put it bluntly, Silver Heart's own illegitimate son, raised by his mother and maybe a step-father, but with his biological father still involved in his life; probably also a thief [inspired by the many Wild Card AUs that y'all love so much], but mostly steals dangerous magical artifacts to either destroy them, or keep them out of evil hands), I didn't change much else about them. What little can be gleaned about their general personalities remains mostly the same; their voices and manner of dress are also mostly the same. Basically it is their faces- and maybe their builds- that are different. (Jack's dad is Tol, for Reasons.)

I have vague ideas about how they met and how they might've spent their lives (met in college in a country that was foreign to the both of them- Jack's dad is at least part Welsh, usually- worked together, started a business and got married, and of course had a kid), but nothing is really concrete. This malleability can be convenient, however, for a good AU jumping off point. Y'all know I got AUs of my AUs.

#Kaitou Joker #Mysterious Joker #Joker/Jack #HC: Jack/Joker #Headcanons #AUs #Jack's Parents #I am. So Sorry about the length of this sajhfadslkhfdsa

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procrastinatorimagines · 4 years

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What If...

Fandom: Chicago Fire / One Chicago

Pairing: Matt Casey x Severide!Reader

Warning/s: none

Word Count: 2,060

Request: Hi would it be possible if I requested a Matt Casey one shot where she’s Kelly’s half sister and she’s new paramedic the firehouse. One night she tells Blake how she’s always had a crush on Matt and he overhears her. What happens when he kisses her in front of everyone at the firehouse?

Being Kelly Severide’s half-sister meant that the entire firehouse treated you basically the same; even though you weren’t that much younger they looked out of you like you were their kid sister.

Kelly had just started working at 51 when you’d found out about him. Your dad, Benny, hadn’t exactly always been around, but when you’d told him you were moving to Chicago, he’d finally told you about your brother. It had been a shock, and you’d been angry that he’d kept it from you for so long, but you were glad to have a sibling, and you and Kelly had clicked right away.

Eventually he’d started to introduce you to the guys at the firehouse, including one Matt Casey, and you’d been crushing on him ever since. You’d tried not to, he only saw you as Kelly’s sister and nothing more, but you’d always been pretty close with him since you met, and you’d never been able to get over the feelings.

Now you were a paramedic there, and it had just gotten worse. You hadn’t applied for 51 specifically when you’d made it through training, moving from your nursing job at Med, but Boden had requested your transfer there to fill a spot on ambo 61.

Everyone had welcomed you to 51, especially Casey, although Kelly had originally been hesitant about his little sister being out on the frontlines and in the line of literal fire. But you were a natural, and he’d soon put those fears to rest.

It had been a few months now, and you found yourself lying on the bunk next to Gallo on a particularly slow shift, discussing his complicated relationship with Violet. “You asked her to marry you?” You laughed in disbelief, turning your head to face him from where you had been staring at the ceiling. Gallo was filling in on ambo with you for the day, Sylvie taking some personal time out to visit her new sister, and you’d both crashed in the bunk room to chat after a couple of very boring wellness checks.

“Look, it wan’t- I wasn’t serious, it was the heat of the moment- I don’t know okay?” Gallo rambled, definitely kicking himself for being so stupid. “I should just fake my death and move to a different country, I’m such an idiot.”

You laughed even more, glad you weren’t in his shoes as he tried to navigate whatever his relationship with Violet was. “Okay, enough about me, what about you? You got anyone? I won’t tell your brother I swear,” Gallo promised with a grin, changing the subject away from his embarrassment. You might have called him out on it and kept the conversation going, but you knew he was already getting it from Ritter and Cruz, so you didn’t push it anymore.

“Me? Nah, living the single life,” you answered, mind going to your ever present and annoying crush on Casey as you picked at the cuffs of your sleeves, grey CFD sweater a size too large.

Gallo caught the distant look in your eyes, “...but there is someone you like?” He asked slowly, your turn to feel embarrassed as you felt your cheeks heat up. Were you that obvious? “Oh, there totally is!”

You and Gallo had become good friends, both having joined the station at around the same time, even though you’d known everyone else for years, you’d still been navigating the place together. Could you tell him this? You hadn’t told anyone, especially not your brother, but you wanted to get it off your chest.

Gallo gave you an encouraging look, and you knew he wouldn’t let it go now, and you didn’t want him trying to find out when you weren’t alone, so you took a breath and told him after casting a final look to Casey and your brother’s dark offices.

“I might... have a little thing for Matt,” you said quietly, nervously awaiting his reaction as he eyes went wide.

“Captain Casey!?” Gallo gasped as he sat up, way too loud for your liking. You put your finger to your lips and shushed him, sitting up so that you were facing him.

“Would you keep it down? I don’t want the entire firehouse to know,” you slapped his knee a little and he nodded, still visibly amused. “Look, I- I’ve had feeling for him for a long time, but it was never going to happen then, and it certainly isn’t going to happen now, I mean, I’ve always just been Kelly’s kid sister and now I actually work at the firehouse.”

“Why did you never go for it before?” He asked, and you couldn’t deny that you’d thought about it. What if he said yes? What if he said no? You’d played countless scenarios in your head as you’d had a drink with him at Molly’s, worked with him at Med or spent time with him at 51 and Kelly’s, but reality was a lot more daunting.

“Because he’s... Matt, even when he wasn’t my superior he was still my brother’s best friend, I’d have better luck at trying to cross a mine field with an aweful lot of mines unscathed,” you told him, running your hands through your hair. You’d untied it when you lay down, but now you figured your put it back up for something to do with your hands other than self-consciously pick at your sleeves.

“Maybe he likes you too and he has the same fears as you do, namely the wrath of Lieutenant Severide, not that I could blame him,” Gallo suggested as you shook your head.

“Oh yeah, because that’s likely,” you said sarcastically and he raised an eyebrow as if to say ‘you never know’, “I’d rather just try to get past it without making anything wierd, it’s my problem not his.”

Gallo was about to reply when the alarm bell sounded, a pile up that required all vehicles to attend. You and Gallo jumped up and headed for the door, but not before you caught sight of Casey emerging from his quarters.

Your stomach dropped at the realisation that he’d been in there the entire time. His light had been off and his door had been open a crack so you’d naturally assumed he wasn’t in there, but he must have gone in there for a nap before you and Gallo got back from your wellness checks.

Praying he had been asleep the entire time you made your way to 61, Gallo giving you an ‘oops’ look as Casey headed past you both to Truck, but the look in his eyes when they briefly met your told you that that was wishful thinking, he’d heard you alright.

You did your best to compartmentalise that as you climbed into the drivers seat next to Gallo, you had a job to focus on, you’d have time to think about faking your death with Gallo and fleeing the country in embarrassment later.

Fires out, people safe, no casualties; one crisis averted, one more to deal with. Gallo had tried to reassure you that Casey hadn’t heard any of it on the drive back, but he wasn’t even managing to convince himself, let alone you.

So you’d made a beeline straight for the showers when you got back, going out of your way to avoid Casey in what little time you had left on shift. Who knew, he might just forget all about it?

Alas, he didn’t. You’d nearly made it out, making your way into the crisp morning air as the sun came up, just wanting to get back to your car and bury yourself under your covers, forgetting all about what had happened. Then Casey had caught up with you.

“Hey, Y/N, wait up a second,” Casey called from behind you, the sound of quick footsteps approaching as reached you. You swallowed, ignoring your feeling of dread as you turned to face him.

“Hey... er... what’s up?” Smooth Y/N, really subtle, you thought to yourself as you mentally ran through potential names to put on your fake passport. Casey gave you a small, conscious smile, and you knew he wanted to bring up what he’d overheard you say earlier, but didn’t know how. Neither did you, which led to a very awkward few seconds where you imaged the ground swallowing you whole.

Finally, Casey spoke up. “I wasn’t eavesdropping, I heard my name and I was going to come out but then I heard... more and I thought it would be better if I just stayed in my office, and then the bell went off-” He stammered.

Turns out it wasn’t the whole firehouse that heard Gallo practically yell Casey’s name, just Casey himself. “I’m sorry, so sorry, I didn’t- I wasn’t try to- I don’t know what I’m trying to say honestly, obviously I never meant for you to hear that and I don’t want this to be weird or anything so if we could just like pretend I never said anything and-” You were talking way too fast but you couldn’t help it. Casey had said your name a couple of times as you spoke, to try and get you to slow down or stop but you’d just kept going.

So instead, he’d tried a different method of shutting you up, and he kissed you. You stumbled back a little, very much surprised and caught off guard, Casey stepping back quickly as your brain tried to process what had just happened, mouth moving slightly but no words coming out. You probably looked like you were short-circuiting.

“Just to clear up any doubts about how I feel,” he told you, hand still lingering on your arm as you regained your senses. In all the fantasy scenarios you’d run through in your head, Casey kissing you was better than you could have expected.

“Wow, okay,” you said, unsure of how to respond but Casey chuckled a little and you began to relax, matching his smile, very much forgetting that you were both still just outside of the firehouse.

“Hope I’m not interrupting,” a voice said intentionally loudly and you and Casy jumped, looking away from each other towards the source, Kelly. He stood a few feet away, arms crossed, jaw clenched as he stared at his best friend, and then his sister.

You risked a glance behind Kelly, to see that your kiss had been very public indeed, basically the entire firehouse kind of public. Gallo even gave you a thumbs up and you would have laughed if your brother wasn’t standing so close, looking like he was debating punching Casey.

Stella was giving you a look that was a mix of support and sympathy, but she rightfully wasn’t inserting herself into this, the rest of the firehouse seemingly waiting for Severide’s reaction before they said anything.

“The hell took you guys so long?” You brother said finally, to the shock of both you and Casey as a smirk spread across Kelly’s face. Casey’s shoulders visibly relaxed and you let out a little sigh of relief. Were you confused? Yes. Were you going to dare question it? No chance.

“You’re not... mad?” Casey did dare and Kelly laughed, shaking his head.

“Why would I be mad? Okay, sure, in the beginning when I realised you guys were into each other? Yeah, I was mad, but I’ve had years to get over that,” he told you both as you caught Cruz reluctantly handing Stella what looked like a twenty.

You rolled your eyes at your brother, glad he wasn’t mad as you glanced at Casey, a grin on his face as Kelly offered out his hand to shake as some kind of sign of approval.

Casey shook it as Kelly added: “hurt her we’ll all bury you,” he informed his Captain matter-of-factly with a head nod towards the rest of the firehouse who sounded their agreement.

“I’d expect nothing less,” Casey replied immediately as Kelly winked in your direction.

“Walk you back to your car?” Casey offered, probably wanting a little bit more privacy to talk, and you quickly accepted, going red from the attention, following him away from the firehouse as Kelly jokingly made a sign that meant ‘I’ll be watching you’ in Casey’s direction.

All in all, not the day you had been expecting, not that you were complaining.

#matt casey #kelly severide #chicago fire #one chicago #matt casey x reader #matt casey imagine #chicago fire imagine #kelly severide imagine #matt casey imagnes #chicago fire imagines #kelly severide imagines #one chicago imagine #one chicago imagines #matt casey one shot #chicago fire one shot #one chicago one shot #one shot

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panda-noosh · 3 years

Text

the normal one {Leo Valdez x Reader}

Words: 14k

Summary: Your sister is the demigod. You’re just the unlucky one who got dragged into her mess.

Genre: angst??

Notes: support my writing or ask me about commissions! - omg happy first day of nano y’all.

---

You never knew your sister was a demigod.

Of course you didn't; it's not the kind of thought that crosses the mind of a logical individual, though it seems obvious now that you're being greeted with the proof.

Emma has never been particularly normal. She's three years older than you, and yet she carries herself like she's been through years upon years of unforgiven trauma, glaring at anyone who dares even speak to her. You used to just describe her as grumpy, not-a-morning-person, just leave her alone and you'll be fine.

Now, you're beginning to think it might not be as simple as all that.

Your day starts off pretty normal; you wake up, greeted by the sunlight streaming through the curtains you once again forgot to close over the previous night. You look down, not surprised to see you're still dressed in a pair of jogging bottoms and a loose white shirt instead of the pyjamas your sister has been trying so desperately to make you wear at night. You got ready, brushing the knots from your hair before marching downstairs.

Your mum is in the kitchen, whistling to herself, frail hands forever trembling around the pot of boiling oatmeal; you and your mum don't really talk that much. She favours Emma over you, and she's never found much point in wasting breath on the child she doesn't necessarily like. She'll smile, feed you, let you have a roof over your head, but neither of you pretend like your relationship with each other is permanent. One day you're going to move out, and your mum is never going to contact you, never going to step foot in your house, never going to give you a house-warming gift.

You're fine with that.

Emma is sat at the kitchen table, her head in her hands. It's not even that weird of a sight, considering you've always known Emma to be into the dramatics. You sit across from her, folding your arms over the table before whispering, rather loudly, "Rough night?"

Her head jerks up, revealing her wild, bloodshot eyes. "What?"

You laugh, grabbing an apple from the fruit bowl in the centre of the table. "You look like shit, Em. Where have you been all night?"

Her jaw twitches, and she doesn't respond, which is a pretty normal reply for her, especially at this time of day.

"Whatever," you mumble. "Can I borrow that fancy deodorant you bought back from that summer camp you go to?" Emma nods. You grin, banishing the conversation all together as you stand and skip upstairs.

So, yeah. The day was starting off pretty normal. Not a single worry in sight. You would go to school, mope around classes for a few hours, come home and stress eat over a pile of unfinished homework that was probably due multiple days ago.

Instead, you have to deal with the boulders being thrown through Emma's bedroom window.

The first one hits just as your grabbing Emma's fancy deodorant from her bottom drawer. There is no warning, no low whoosh sound that would give you a chance to step away and make a run for it - no. Instead, it goes straight to the shattered glass and bloodied arms. Instead, it goes straight to the boulder smashing against your hand, crushing your fingers against the wall.

You are stuck, legs crumbling beneath you. You should be slipping to the floor right now, probably unconscious, maybe dead, but your hand, trapped between the biggest rock known to man and the wall, keeps you upright. Blood leaks from gashes forming on your fingers, dribbling down your wrist, your arm, dripping onto your knees. You stare at the scene in shock for a moment, unable to register what on earth has actually just happened.

And then Emma is screaming your name, thundering up the stairs, and you're crying out, trying to form words but they get lodged in your throat, replaced by the overwhelming pain and realisation that you're going to die, you're going to fucking die on your sisters bedroom floor because there is so much blood, and there is no way in hell you won't be drained before the end of this day, probably within the next ten minutes, probably within-

The door opens. Emma barrels inside, wielding a golden sword that honestly just makes you think of course she has a golden sword.

"You son of a bitch!" she cries out, darting to her bedroom window. She stands upon the sill and waves her arms at the sky. "You got the wrong L/N, you idiot! Get back here and finish me off if you're so tough!"

"Emma," you croak, tears flooding down your cheeks. "Little help here."

"It's the giants." She leaps off the window sill and swivels round, darting to your side. Something has changed in her, something you've never seen before; she seems stronger, her eyes a little brighter yet still eerily dark at the same time.

She crouches beside you and begins manoeuvring your trapped hand back and forth. You hiss, throwing your head back as blood spurts down your arm, staining your shirt. Emma grits her teeth, keeping her eyes peeled on her work. "They've found me," she continues muttering. "We need to get out of here - all of us. You, me, Mum. They know where the house is. How did they find out where the bloody house is?"

"Can you shut the fuck up talking crazy for one second?"

Emma pays you no mind, taking a tiny knife from her back pocket and wriggling it between the wall and the boulder. "I'll have to get in touch with Chiron, tell him I'm bringing a few mortals with me to camp this summer."

You grunt. "I'm not going to some hippy-Christian summer camp with you."

"It's not a hippy-Christian summer camp." Emma swats your head, forcing you to look away from the blood dribbling down your arm. "It's a place that will keep you safe, alright? So don't argue."

"Don't tell me what to - AH!" The boulder falls, crashing to the floor. Tables rattle, things tumble off shelves, and your hand is freed. You pull it to your chest, but Emma doesn't let it go unaided for long - she grabs your wrist and tugs it back, examining the damage; your nerves have clearly been ripped, fingers cold from lack of feeling. Gashes have been made into the back of your hand, fingers torn to shreds.

She shakes her head. "I'll get Will to have a look at this."

"No, you idiot, you'll call 999 before-"

"We have to go now. That giant will be back soon enough, especially once he realises I'm taking you guys with me." Emma doesn't even give you a chance to respond before she's grabbing your good hand and dragging you from her bedroom. You hiss in pain, stumbling behind her, but there's really no point in arguing. When Emma has her mind set on something, she goes for it no matter what objections people put in place. Mum always said she gets that from her dad, but you've never met the man, so you wouldn't know.

Speaking of your dear old mother, the woman doesn't even give you a second glance when Emma drags you into the living room and shoves you onto the sofa next to her; she's frozen in fear, fingers pulled to her lips as she bites on the nails, a habit she's had for as long as you can remember.

She shakes her head, dazed. "He's coming back to me. He's sending signs."

Emma groans. Looking over, you see her with a phone pressed to her ear, big and bulky with an oversized antennae peeking from the top of it. "Mum, that wasn't Dad sending signs. That was a giant trying to kill me."

You blink, certain your blood loss is contributing to this wild conversation somehow. "A giant? Your dad?"

Emma raises a finger, telling you to be quiet. Mum whimpers at the movement and goes back to chewing her nails, gazing steadily out the window. She looks terrified, but her knee is bouncing in that way it always does when she's excited. You've given up trying to understand her. In fact, you've given up trying to understand your entire family.

So you just sit there, trying to fight off the black spots dotting your vision and the blood dribbling through your fingers; you don't know why Emma hasn't called 999 yet, considering you're basically on the verge of unconsciousness, but your throat is too dry to ask. Instead you listen as she says, "Leo! Where are you? Are you close?" and then she sighs in relief, and within three minutes, there's a knock on the door and she's barrelling out of the living room to grab it.

You look up, dazed, when she returns with a small curly haired boy in tow. He's a bit scruffy, you have to admit, but in a cute way, like a bunny with a bit of dirt on its nose.

"Not really the time for guests, is it, Em?" you grumble, before falling face first into the floor.

---

You wake up, and immediately wish you hadn't.

Emma always messes things up - always.

Her life has to be so damn dramatic all the damn time, and you're getting pretty damn sick of being dragged into it. All you want to do is sit in bed with a nice blanket and a cup of tea, maybe practice a bit of witchcraft, maybe sink into the dirt and become one with nature.

You don't want to be hunted down by rabid, murderous giants, that's for sure.

You also don't want to be trapped in a hospital bed at some hippy-Christian camp you don't even know the name of. But that's exactly what has happened.

When you open your eyes, you're greeted by the sight of white, cloth walls and multiple eager faces gazing down at you. Most of them have blonde hair and the brightest eyes you have ever seen, and then there's that curly haired boy, and Emma herself, and there's a guy who is half horse-

"Oh god, this is death. I've died."

"She's awake!" the curly haired boy - Leo, you remember - cries, throwing his hands in the air. "Good job, Apollo kids! Another point for you!"

"Shut up, Leo." One of the many blonde haired kids steps forward and places the back of his hand against your forehead; in any other situation, you might have pulled away and told him to step back, but the feel of his skin against your own is surprisingly soothing. It's almost against your will when you melt into it, eyes gliding shut. Your hit with images of you and Emma as children, running through fields, her punching that guy in the nose because he called you short that one time, and-

He snatches his hand back, startling you back to reality. "The fevers definitely going down," he says, turning to Emma.

"Uh, excuse me," you chirp, raising a timid hand. "She's not my legal guardian, I'll have you know." You glance at Emma. "Where is my legal guardian, by the way?"

Emma rolls her eyes, and that's answer enough.

"Ah. Frollicking in the leaves again?"

Emma hums. "I left her to it; we have bigger things to worry about than her love life."

"That's a bit morbid, Emma," says Leo. "Love is a magnificent thing."

"So is me not dying," you say, before turning back to the blonde haired boy. "Can I leave?"

The boy blinks, staring at you like you have two heads. It almost makes you uncomfortable, but his eyes are so pretty, and the way his palm felt against your forehead-

Leo shoves to the front. "Will here is gay, Y/N. Stop staring."

You look away, flustered. "I wasn't even staring."

"Yeah, you were. I see that look of lust on people all the time - I get it a lot, to tell you the truth."

You look at his curls, the oil on his tattered overalls, the dirt smothering both his cheeks, nose and hands.

"I'm sure you do, big guy. I'm sure you do."

Will sighs, shoving Leo out the way again. "I'm gonna do a final check up before I let you leave; I can't give mortals any nectar or ambrosia, so the healing process might take-"

Awkwardly, Emma coughs. The entire tent goes silent, turning to her with raised brows and narrowed eyes, but all you can focus on is Will's strange choice of vocabulary. Nectar. Ambrosia. Those don't sound like common prescription pain meds.

"Emma..." Will drawls. "What have you-"

"I'll talk to them," Emma mumbles. "Can you guys just give us a minute?"

You grab Will's hand. "Please don't leave me alone with her."

Will gives you a timid smile, squeezing your hand gently before he, Leo and all the other blonde haired strangers exit the tent, leaving just you and Emma to your own devices.

And honestly, Emma's your best friend. She means the world to you. She's the one person in that god forsaken house that actually pays you any attention, and it doesn't even matter that she's the favourite, that Mum basically licks the ground she walks on for a reason you have yet to pinpoint. You love Emma with all your heart, but right now, you would rather be anywhere but in her presence.

You pull the quilt up to your chin and say, "I'm very confused."

Emma pulls a stool over and takes a seat. "I know. I should have explained. I need to explain."

"Yes, you do."

She hollows out her cheeks, which only makes your fear spike - you've never seen Emma act like this. She's usually so brave, bold, confident. She doesn't do a single thing without planning it out perfectly beforehand, and yet here she is, looking completely stumped. You almost feel bad for her until you remember the way she completely ignored your pleas for her to call 999 when you were fairly certain you were bleeding out.

"Well?" you push. "Go on, Em. I'm listening."

Emma sighs, scrubbing a hand down her face. "Do you have any idea where we are right now?"

"Absolutely none. There was a guy with a horse body-"

"That's Chiron. He's a centaur."

You blink. "Okay."

"This place is called Camp Half-Blood; it's where I go to every summer."

"Well, I assumed."

"It's a camp for Half-Bloods. Demigods. People who are half-god, like. . . like me. Like Leo, and Will, and probably loads of other kids, too."

It's starting to get jumbled now, a string of words that don't form to make a coherent, sensible sentence.

You don't even respond, simply staring at Emma until she is forced to continue.

"It sounds insane, I know, but I'm not lying. I'm a demigod, Y/N, daughter of Ares."

It goes silent, because of course it does. What are you even meant to say to that? The logical part of you says to just call her out on her lies, ask her where the hell you actually are and where Mum is and why she brought you here in the first place. But the other half recognises that Emma being the daughter of a war god kind of makes perfect sense.

In your conflicted state of disbelief, you say neither of those things. Instead, you look at Emma and say, "Mum hooked up with a god?"

Emma breathes a laugh, closing her eyes. "Yes, little one, she did."

"And she couldn't have done the same thing when she was conceiving me?"

Emma winces. "I don't want to talk about Mum conceiving either of us, thank you very much."

You shake your head. "So that's why she's always hated me."

"Mum doesn't hate you-"

"I'm the repair kid. I'm the one who-"

Leo pops his head in the door. "Did someone say repair kid?"

Emma looks up, giving Leo a tired little wave. "You can come back in now. Y/N's all caught up."

"Oh, happy days!" Leo marches in and reaches for your good hand, giving it a vigorous shake. "Leo Valdez, son of Hephaestus. Nice to properly meet you."

"Y/N L/N, child of - uh - that guy from McDonalds.

Emma stands up quickly, grabbing Leo's shoulders as his eyes narrow. "Alright! Now that we've got the niceties out of the way, I think it's time we let Will back in here so he can do his final check up. Sound good?"

"Sounds fantastic," you mumble, sinking down into the pillows. "Bring the nice looking blonde boy to me now, please."

----

Camp Half-Blood kind of looks like a dream scape. But a really bad one.

A nightmare-scape.

There's sword fighting, and teeny tiny girls in green dresses that get wildly offended when you call them Tinkerbell. There's people riding around on winged horses like it's no big deal, and you're almost certain it was raining when you left the house earlier, so why is it sunny and warm right now?

Leo is the one who greets you when you're finally allowed to step out of the tent - the infirmary, apparently, run by the kids of Apollo. All of them were really nice. They all had really nice hands.

"You're looking fresh," Leo says, tucking his hands in his pockets as the two of you stroll across camp together. "Will and his siblings really know what they're doing, huh? I had my doubts, with you being a mortal and all. I don't know how often they work on people like you."

You shrug. "It was just a bit of nerve damage in my hand."

"You passed out."

"I blanked. It happens to the best of us."

Leo's lips twitch. It shows you just the briefest hint of dimples, and you hate that it immediately turns your tough-guy demeanour to mush. It seems like you have a soft spot for demigods. You look away quickly, tucking your hands - bandage and all - into your pockets. It's this movement that seems to tilt Leo's attention to the clothes you're wearing, all of which are smothered in your own blood.

Pleasant.

He grimaces, stopping dead in his tracks. You would continue walking, being an independent mortal and all that, but you don't know your way around this place, and you'd rather not accidentally walk into a fighting arena. So, you stop and look back at him. "What's wrong?"

"You need a change of clothes, my friend."

You blink. "No, I don't think-"

"They might be a bit big on you, but I have the perfect pair of overalls you could borrow. Come on. To Bunker 9 we go."

He starts walking away before you even have a chance to protest. It really puts the fear of god - gods? - in you, because at that very moment, a winged horse slams into the floor at your side. You squeal, immediately sprinting after him, and the bastard doesn't even turn back to look at what has just startled you. He merely grins, cocky and annoying, and says, "Yeah, stick with me and that won't happen."

You grunt, knowing he's right.

The two of you arrive at Bunker 9 in no time. It's like an old bomb shelter, with tin walls and a door that looks like it's about to fall off it's hinges. You make a joke about why Leo can't just fix the hinges, considering he's a machine expert and all that, and Leo rolls his eyes and says, "I'm busy enough as it is."

The room lights up without a switch needing to be flipped, which you think is pretty cool.

"My school used to have lights like that," you point out, gazing up at the ceiling. "They were motion censored."

"Mm. They're handy little things until you haven't moved in fifteen minutes and they switch off whilst you're still standing there. The amount of times I've nearly put a screw through my finger." He shakes his head, tossing aside discarded tools in his search for the overalls he promised you. "Mental."

You pluck at a random copper wire hanging out of a drawer. "So, is this like. . . your dorm room?"

"Hm?" Leo looks at you. "Oh, no. I don't sleep in here - I sleep in the Hephaestus cabin. I'm the head counsellor, so I have to keep an eye on things, you know."

You raise a brow. "Is your bed more comfy in the Hephaestus cabin?"

"That, too." He blushes, lowering his eyes back to his search. "But honestly, my job is pretty important. I've got to keep that place running, keep all my siblings in check."

"I'm not being funny, if Emma tried telling me what to do, I would tell her to piss off."

Leo scoffs. "Yeah, I got that vibe off you."

"So how do you do it?"

Leo pauses, glancing over his shoulder."How do I do what?"

You push yourself up onto the counter, ignoring the saw dust that now litters your hands and the back of your already ruined jeans. "How do you get them to listen to you? You don't look to be much older than I am - surely you have older siblings in that cabin of yours. It can't be easy getting them to fall into line, too."

Slowly, Leo turns. He leans against the chest of drawers he has been digging through, regarding you with a single raised brow. His gaze is hard, but you keep the eye contact, smiling just the tiniest bit.

He doesn't respond with words. Instead, he stretches his hand out, palm towards the ceiling, and uncurls his fingers, revealing a bright orange flame dancing in the centre. It doesn't make you jump as it probably should have; instead, you are mesmerised, caught in the slick movements of the tiny ball of fire.

You slowly reach out. Leo slams his hand closed and pulls back. "You can't touch it."

"I wasn't going to."

"You were fully going to touch it."

You scowl, folding your arms over your chest. "What was the point in showing me that?"

He turns on his heel, going back to digging through the chest of drawers. "That's why I'm head counsellor - no other child of Hephaestus can do that." He glances at you. "You don't think it's weird?"

"Well, yeah - very weird." You shrug. "But who am I to judge? I can do this thing where I dislocate my shoulder, and that's pretty weird, too."

Leo blinks, mouth opening like you've caught him off guard. He swipes his tongue along his lower lip before he turns away and mumbles, "Yeah. That is pretty weird."

Bunker 9 is doused in silence after that. Leo rummages through his drawers as you inspect every nook and cranny of the place, running your fingers along the tin walls, picking up tools you have never seen before; you can feel Leo watching you from the corner of his eye, probably making sure you're not stealing anything. Honestly, the golden screwdriver set is pretty tempting, but you wouldn't want to risk getting on a demigod's bad side.

Finally, after what feels like far too long, Leo pops his head up, grinning broadly with a set of overalls in his hands. "Found them!" He tosses them at you with no warning; you just barely manage to catch them. "They got shrunk in the wash, so I was gonna rip them up for hand towels in here, but I'm sure they'll be more useful for you."

You pull them into your chest. "They smell like oil."

Leo spreads his oil stained hands. "Yeah, well, that's how life is, love. I'll let you get changed - I promise I won't peak!"

Laughing, he leaves Bunker 9; his footsteps stop there, though, and there's a glimmer of relief when you realise he isn't just walking away and leaving you to your own devices.

You get changed quickly, bundling your blood stained clothes into a ball and shoving them beneath your arm - you don't know where you can possibly wash them, but you refuse to leave this camp in Leo's old overalls. First of all, they're much too big on you, pooling over your feet despite Leo's own small stature. The striped shirt he gave you to put underneath it has oil spots embedded in it, too, which just makes you look like even more of a slump. Nonetheless, you throw open the door to Bunker 9 with your arms outstretched and call out, "How do I look?"

Leo peaks his head around and freezes.

You drop your arms, rolling your eyes. "Don't be so dramatic. This isn't a romance movie."

His nose erupts into flames. He yelps, swatting the fire away before he awkwardly coughs and says, "Good. You look good."

You grin. "Thank you. Do you have any idea where I can put these?" You offer up your pile of clothes. Leo takes them from your hands and tosses them over your shoulder, back into Bunker 9. You frown. "Do you have a washing machine in there?"

"It won't take me long to rig one up. I'll have them washed before you leave, don't worry." He offers his arm, grinning yet again. "Now, how about we go up to the dining pavilion and get some food? I'm starving!"

----

Leo did not know one of his best friends was related to such an attractive individual.

It wasn't really that big of a shock when he walked in and saw you sitting there in the living room, looking dazed and out of it with blood dribbling from some pretty severe cuts in your hand. Emma had rang him and filled him on all the details, so there was no surprise at the scene. And plus, Emma's not exactly ugly. She has that rough look to her, sure, but Leo would probably date her if she asked him. Again, it wasn't much of a surprise when he walked in and saw you there, all pretty with the innocence only a mortal could have.

But then he got a glimpse of your personality.

No. Scratch that. He got an entire bucketload of your personality, and he was still craving more by the end of it.

He tried his hardest to fight off these feelings, because he's felt them before - with almost every person he finds attractive, in fact. He gets it lodged in his head that he can impress them, that this is the one and he can make it work if he just tries hard enough. It's kind of hard not to think that way - hopeful, desperate, almost - when all his friends are hooking up and getting boyfriends and girlfriends, generally just having the time of their damn lives. And Leo is just. . . making machines.

But then the two of you went and had dinner together, and he found himself asking if you wanted to go for a walk along the lake before you would have to go to bed. You had agreed, and the conversation had continued, and Leo has never laughed so much in his entire life.

You tell stories of these little memories you have with Emma, enjoying the embarrassing little details you add in whenever you can. Leo struggles to imagine the daughter of Ares being anything close to the Emma you're describing, but he can tell in the passion of your words you're not telling lies.

"What about you, though?" he asks.

Your hands drop to your side, smile curving. "What about me?"

"Well, you're going on about Emma and all the cool stuff she used to do - what about you, though? What have you been up to?"

It's a pretty simple question in Leo's mind; with his ADHD brain, he is able to come up with a million different answers on the spot.

You, however, look at him with a raised brow. He stares right back.

Finally, you crack and say, "Uh. . . I've been doing some school work, I guess."

Leo blinks. "You go to school?"

"I do indeed. I'm studying psychology, but it's really difficult, so I might drop it."

Leo nods like he understands, even though he doesn't. All he really remembers of his school days is him sitting in the back of the classroom plotting his next escape. "Interesting," he says. "Does Emma go to school?"

"She's doing an apprenticeship at some mechanics place. She dropped out when she turned sixteen."

"Naughty."

You shrug. "She does what she wants. I would love to drop out, but Mum would flip." Leo glances at you; the mention of your Mum seems to be something a little heavy, as your smile immediately dips, your shoulders slumping. Leo knows he probably shouldn't pry, but he's Leo, so he does anyway.

"Is your mum tough on you?"

"No. She's not tough at all. She's not light, either. She just. . . lives with me, I guess."

"She just lives with you?"

You inhale, looking out over the lake. For a moment, Leo thinks you might start crying, but then he shakes that thought out of his mind, because you don't seem like the type to cry in front of a stranger, and that's really all Leo is, which is why he shouldn't expect you to open up to him right now, not if this is something you don't want to-

"Mum only had me because she wanted to see if she could get over Emma's dad." You wince. "Ares, I guess."

Leo pauses. His fingertips start glowing, a sign of his anger, but he shoves them in his pockets and dispels the flames before you see them. "That's horrible."

You shrug halfheartedly. "It's fine. She was crazy about the guy from what I've heard - it's why Emma's her favourite. She's the only piece of him she has left, really."

"But that doesn't mean-"

"You don't have to tell me she's a bad mother, Leo. I know. I've known from day one; I've just gotten used to it." You pick up a rock and toss it into the lake. "Honestly, we're better off out of each other's hair anyway; put us in a room together and make us talk, we'll probably burn the house down."

Leo doesn't know how to respond; he's never felt like that. Ever. Even with his dad, there's always been some level of affection there, even though his dad is a Greek god who only pops in when he wants something; Hephaestus has never straight-up ignored him, never made his favouritism clear.

Leo finds he wants to punch something, and not even the steady whisper of the lake can calm him down. He walks a little bit behind you as the silence settles, you picking up random rocks and tossing them into the water, apologising profusely when the eighteen tentacled octopus pokes its head up and yells at you.

Your calmness makes it even worse, though, because that lets Leo know that this treatment is something you've grown used to. You've never known any different.

----

Three days in, and Emma still insists on keeping you at Camp Half-Blood.

"You're not leaving until that giant is dead, and that might take a while."

You drape your arm over your forehead, still sprawled across her bed in the Ares cabin. It's a pretty musty cabin, to be fair, but you won't mention that when all of Emma's siblings are glaring daggers at you. "Do you have any idea how many assessments I'm missing? Mr Wrightchuck is gonna be furious with me, and I do not have the mental energy to deal with his shit right now."

Emma throws a pair of shorts at you. "Shut up and fold those for me."

You grunt, sitting up and getting to work; you've decided to make yourself at least a little bit useful around here. These people were nice enough to offer you accommodation, even though it's clear being around mortals isn't exactly their everyday routine. The amount of times you've hissed in pain because of your hand and been offered a chunk of ambrosia is uncountable.

"So," Emma starts suddenly, taking you by surprise; she hardly ever initiates conversations, preferring to brood in her own head when she can get away with it.

You look at her, sitting cross legged on the floor in front of the bright pink laundry hamper she stole off your Aunt Grace. She's not even looking up, lips pursed, eyebrows raised as if expecting you to fill in the blanks from that single word.

"So, what?" you push. "What did I just say, Emma? I don't have the mental energy-"

"You and Leo have been hanging out an awful lot these past few days."

You pause. That certainly wasn't what you had been expecting to hear.

"Uh. . . I suppose. He's a cool guy. Cool fire, and stuff." You wriggle your fingers, imitating flames, though Emma's sideways glare makes you mumble an apology and drop your hand to your side. "Is there something wrong with Leo and I being pals?"

"Leo's a very. . . hopeful boy," Emma replies. "He tends to get lost in his own fantasies sometimes."

You blink. "What, like kinks?"

Emma groans, throwing some socks at you. "No, you idiot! When he likes someone, he tends to get a little carried away. It's quite sad to see, actually."

"What does that have to do with me and him being friends?"

Emma glances at you; you recognise that look. It makes your stomach curl, heat rising to your cheeks. You look away, coughing awkwardly into her shirt before you mumble, "No. No, absolutely not. Leo doesn't like me that way."

Emma shrugs, grin spreading across her face. "Maybe, maybe not. I'm just saying, if you don't like him that way, try and break the illusion as soon as possible. It's easier to just rip the bandaid off."

"You're heartless."

"I'm a daughter of Ares, Y/N. We don't bullshit people. We say it how it is."

You scowl, snatching another set of trousers from her wash pile and getting to work, trying to ignore the thump of your heartbeat, which suddenly seems to have sped up a fair bit.

----

You lose track of how long it has been since you last saw your mother.

This happens sometimes, these long stretches of time when neither of you will acknowledge the other person; it's easier that way, just pretending she doesn't exist, just pretending the house is empty besides you.

You've been caught up in camp activities these past few weeks. Your hand is starting to heal, the nerves tingling, which Will says is a good sign. You've been talking to other campers, learning more and more about the world Emma has kept hidden from you for so long, a world that fascinates you, a world you will never want to be properly part of.

Now, however, you see her. Sitting on her own by the lake, knobbly knees pulled into her chest, dazed eyes locked on the swirling water in front of her. The little sea creatures have long since hidden, probably put-off by the presence of a stranger, but your mother doesn't seem to care. She just sits all on her own, long hair billowing out behind her as the moon begins to rise in the distance.

You lean against a tree just a little bit behind her and say, "Are you not cold?"

She doesn't even flinch, like the voice of her child has no effect on her whatsoever. Instead, she digs her fingernails into the dirt and grabs a handful of stones, lobbing them into the lake.

You sigh and crouch down next to her; she smells of sweat and dirt, a sure sign that she hasn't been taking much care of herself these past few weeks. "Let's go back to the Big House, Mum. You're gonna get hypothermia out here."

"He will protect me," she replies. "He's always protecting me."

"You mean Ares? Emma's Dad?"

"He's protected me from day one; he loves Emma and I. He's just busy."

You swallow, staring at the side of her face. "I'm sure he does, Mum. But he's clearly running a little late right now, so he's asked me to come make sure you get wrapped up before the wind eats you alive." You gaze at the trees. "Which I'm pretty sure is a thing that actually happens here."

Finally, your mum gazes at you, lower lip trembling. "I just want him to talk to me."

You freeze; it's most unlike your mother to talk like this, especially to you. She rants and raves about Ares to Emma, but she barely pays you any attention when it comes to things like this. You don't really know how to handle it, whether you should comfort her and tell her Ares loves her - this Greek god, surviving somewhere on Mount Olympus, overlooking the entire world. Yes, of course he still loves her. Of course he does.

But the other half of you just doesn't want to lie. You don't want to get her hopes up any more than they already are, because anyone with a brain will be able to see that Ares has long since forgotten about the mortal woman he apparently fell in love with, and the daughter they created together.

So, you grab your mum's hand and drag her to her feet. She slumps against you like a child having a tantrum, and you have to basically lift her off the floor to get anywhere. Nonetheless, you eventually have her standing, and together, you walk up the hill, back to the main camp.

It's dark, probably past curfew, but campers are still walking about. Mostly the Apollo cabin, never off their feet with the casualties they have to tend to in a day, though there are other campers enjoying a late night cup of hot chocolate by the fire, laughing merrily. They don't notice you walking up the hill, don't notice your mum mumbling to herself, words you can't even grasp being right beside her.

"The Ares cabin," your mum suddenly blurts.

You pause, nearly stumbling over your own two feet as your head whips around to the direction she is now staring, eyes wide.

"Yes, Mum," you grumble. "That is the Ares cabin - now, can we keep moving before my fingers fall off?"

"Is that where you've been sleeping these past few weeks?"

You narrow your eyes. "What? Yes, Mum, it is; Emma lets me sleep with her, now can we please-"

"He isn't your father."

You stop dead in your tracks; oh no. You've heard this line of speech before, and it's never pleasant. Mum gets angry, enraged, when she thinks you're trying to take on the same status as her beloved Emma, daughter of the war god. She likes to keep you in your place, which is a good few tiers below everybody else, apparently.

"I know that," you say quickly. "Emma was just nice enough to lend me her bed so I didn't have to sleep in the Hermes cabin - you know I don't know my way around here, so-"

"He wouldn't like you sleeping amongst his children. He told me."

"He what now?"

She shakes out of your grip, gritting her teeth. Her eyes are wild, dilated beyond anything you've ever seen, and when she next speaks, the words are a cry. "He told me!" She shakes her head, gripping the strands of hair between trembling fingers. "He's so mad at me, Y/N; he told me it was disrespectful to have a child with another man. He said he would burn you to the ground if you stepped out of line. He said he would kill you, just to teach me a lesson for going behind his back!"

You blink. You're used to this. You're meant to be used to this, but holy mother of god - gods? - you don't know what she's on about. You've never heard her talk like this. You've never heard her speak of your death before, and the words coming from her mouth are so eerie, so fucking terrifying that you stumble back, hands trembling, tears rushing to the surface.

"You crazy bitch."

She laughs, loud and clear so the entire camp's attention turns directly to her. "That's what he said! He called me insane, and then he said he loved me and gave me a child - and that child certainly wasn't you."

"Mum, what are you-"

"He talks to me sometimes, you know." She nods, hands still buried in her hair, tugging her eyes back so she looks demented. "In my head, he talks. We have little conversations, but he's been so much more talkative since we arrived here, like this place really is my home." She releases her hair, eyes dimming. "But you're not meant to be here; he told me that, too. He said Emma and I were welcome amongst his kind, but not you - not a bastard like you."

You look around; all the demigods are on their feet now, staring at the scene in confusion. It's embarrassing, absolutely mortifying to suddenly be the centre of their attention, especially under such circumstances.

"Okay," you croak out. "Okay, that's fine - I'll go, then. Leave you and Emma here. I don't mind, Mum. You don't have to get angry."

Mum's nostrils flare. "It's not me who's angry - it's him-"

"Well, tell him that he doesn't have to get his godly bollocks in a twist, because I'm leaving." You raise your hands in faux surrender, taking a few tentative steps back. "I'm leaving, and you'll never have to see me again."

The words hurt, but they're the truth - especially now. Mum doesn't respond, merely stares as you take a few more steps backwards, turn on your heel and dart towards the Ares cabin, fighting desperately to push the tears away, because crying is stupid.

This is just your mum being. . . your mum, just as she's always been. Sure, her words tonight were a little harsher than you're used to, but her neglect has given you thick skin, thick enough to take her words on the chin.

You see the Ares cabin, and run right past it towards the lake. You nearly slip in the mud on your way down the hill, catching yourself before finally crumbling to the floor against a tree by the lake side.

You'll take her words on the chin, but you'll cry over them first.

----

When Leo hears the news, he's pretty sure his blood turns to fire.

He's half-asleep, but that doesn't stop his understanding of Will's words, his descriptions of the scene he just witnessed at the camp fire.

And the thing is, after hearing all the things your mum has done to you, Leo isn't even surprised to hear it's finally boiled over.

Doesn't make him any less angry.

He storms out of the Hephaestus cabin wearing nothing but his pyjamas. He feels the heat beneath his skin, threatening to break the surface as he forces it down, gritting his teeth. He's half tempted to turn to the Big House to give your mum a piece of his mind, but his main concern at the moment is you, and where you've gone, and where you plan on going, because according to Will, your last words to her were "I'm leaving, and you'll never have to see me again." That's a horrible thought. Leo doesn't want to think about that.

He heads to the lake, because according to Will, that's the direction you were running, and Leo knows how much you like the lake; it calms you down, you said, and he stored that piece of information in his brain for weeks, as if in preparation for this very moment.

He stops at the top of the hill and gazes down, lighting up the darkness with a ball of fire cupped in the palm of his hand. You don't flinch at the sudden intrusion, instead curling into a tighter ball against the roots of a tree, burying your head in your knees. The sight breaks his heart. He swallows, slowly waddling down the hill, careful not to fall in the dirt.

You don't look up when he finally arrives at your side. "Y/N."

"Who told you?"

Leo crouches. "Will. He said you seemed upset."

"That's literally nobody's business."

Leo sighs, slumping against the tree beside you; his shoulder brushes your own, and for a moment, you stiffen against his side. "You don't have to tell me what happened if you're not cool with that," he says. "I'm not being nosy or anything."

"Yes, you are."

"No, I'm really not. I just wanted to make sure that witch didn't hurt your feelings too bad." He pauses. "What did she actually say?"

Your head snaps up, eyes blood shot, lips dry. "Ah, see! You are just being nosy!"

He swats your arm, scowling. "Be quiet, no I'm not; but how am I meant to help you if I don't even know what happened?"

"I never said I wanted help, Leo. My mum not caring about me isn't something that can just be helped." And you didn't even realise those were the words you were going to say, because they sound so heartbreaking, so self-pitying, even though they're the truth. You've always just brushed your mothers behaviour off as normal, the only hand you've ever been dealt, but phrasing it in that way, claiming she doesn't care . . . something about that makes your heart break.

Your lower lip trembles before you can stop it, fresh tears springing to the surface. You remember holidays, catching Emma wrapping up gifts of her own to give to you, just so you could wake up to something on Christmas morning. You remember making your own Halloween costume because your mother spent all her money on Emma's. You remember thinking it was okay, because it was all you ever knew.

You're older now, though. You can recognise mistreatment when you see it, but it's still a blow to the chest realising that you were on the other end of it, that you're a victim, whether you want to deny it or not.

Leo notices your sudden change of emotions and immediately lurches forward. His fingers are hot, almost scalding when they make contact with your arm, his brown eyes burning holes into your own. His eyebrows are furrowed when he says your name in a whisper, just your name, like nothing else needs to be said.

You close your eyes. "I'm fine."

"I wish you'd stop saying that. It's starting to grate on my skull, and I can't afford that kind of damage."

You let out a breath of a laugh, just because you think it's appropriate; in truth, you find none of this funny. You want to curl up and cry. You want to leave Camp Half-Blood and everything it stands for, start a life away from demigods and Greek gods alike.

What's stopping you?

Leo's hands heat up on your arm, forcing you to look at him again. He's closer now, head tilted, all amusement flushed from his features, which is a sad enough sight on it's own. It's been two seconds, but you already miss that sparkle in his eyes.

"Hey," he says quietly. "Talk to me."

And you do. You don't know why, but you do. The words pour out like a broken faucet, a complete mess of incoherence's that Leo - and only Leo - would ever be able to understand. He nods along like the words are making sense, like these sentences aren't just complete gibberish.

When you finish explaining everything that happened down at the camp fire, you gasp, starved for air. Leo grabs your hand and tugs you forward, cupping your face in his attempts to calm you down; you didn't realise the tears had started pouring, didn't realise you're breathing heavily, totally lost, unable to catch a breath.

"Calm down," he mumbles. "Y/N, calm down. I'm here. I've got you, pal, I've got you."

You close your eyes, leaning into his palm. He traces his thumbs along your cheeks before slowly, slowly, slowly running his hand over your ear, tucking a strand of hair back. His eyes never leave your face, despite the state you know you are in, how awful you must look.

"I'm sorry," you choke out. "I didn't mean to. . . to get so worked up."

"Don't be stupid," he replies. "Did she really say all that to you?"

"She's not in her right mind out here. She thinks she's one of you guys, that she can be part of the group just because-"

"Because she slept with Ares?"

You laugh, exhausted. "Yes, exactly."

Leo rolls his eyes, finally letting his hands drop back to his sides. "Honestly, everyone and their grandfather has probably slept with Ares. She's nothing special, and she needs to get that through her head." He pauses. The air crackles. "But - uh - you're, you know, special. Very special."

You blink, certain you heard him wrong. The words don't really make sense in this context, so you're trying to disentangle them.

Finally, you crack and say, "What?"

Leo rubs the back of his neck, glancing awkwardly over his shoulder. Over the hill, everything is silent as Half-Bloods sleep, unknowing to the panic attack that has just captured you, unknowing to the magic Leo has just cast to calm you down.

"I said you're special," he mumbles. "In a good way, I mean. Like, a really good way."

Your heart thunders. "Thank you?"

"You're welcome." He looks at you then, chirping up. "But seriously, don't let her get to you. She's just a love sick psycho who doesn't know when to back down. Clingy ex-girlfriend and all that."

He changes the topic so swiftly it nearly gives you whiplash. You stare at him for another moment, and just when you're about to open your mouth to continue the previous, deserted conversation, Leo stands and reaches his hand out. "Shall we go before Hedge thinks there's some funny business going on?"

You nod dumbly, taking his hand only because you don't know what you want to say in response to what he has just said - he called you special, and he said it like it was just. . . normal, like it was something you could slip in without any further questions being asked.

You try and let the subject drop as Leo leads you back into camp. He walks you to the door of the Ares cabin, and it is there that he turns to you and says, voice low, "You can sleep in my cabin if your mum is in there; Chiron won't mind, and I won't either."

"No, it's okay," you reply. "Mum's staying in the Big House; I'll just slip in next to Emma." You glance at him, his eyes meeting yours because he never looked away. He looks so sweet beneath the lantern light, flames dancing across his skin like they were always meant to be there, like Leo has lived his life in fire and came out smiling every time. "Thank you, Leo; you really didn't have to help me tonight."

He scoffs. "Don't be daft. Next time you have any issues, I want you to run to me instead of the river naiads, you hear?"

You smile and nod. "I hear."

And so, Leo and you bid each other goodnight, and you watch as he walks across camp, past the Hephaestus cabin, right in the direction of Bunker 9. Half of you wants to go after him, question him on his use of the word special earlier on, but you don't. Your limbs are heavy with exhaustion, and so you turn on your heel and head into the Ares cabin, unable to stop the tiny smile that forms on your face.

----

Bunker 9 looks very nice in the morning.

"Oh, the tin is just glistening!"

Leo yelps, dropping a spanner on the ground as he whirls around. His overalls are covered in oil, along with his face, arms, legs, and every other body part that is presented to you on this fine Monday morning. In your hand is a plate of steaming cinnamon buns that Leo's eyes immediately fix upon, his startled expression quickly being replaced by one of pure hunger. You're almost certain you see his mouth salivating.

You tug the plate back, holding one arm out. "Not so fast, Fire Boy."

He frowns. "What did you just call me?"

"No cinnamon buns for you until you tell me how many hours of sleep you got last night."

Leo raises a brow, a tiny smirk making an appearance. "Are you kidding?"

"Nope. I want the details, Valdez, or these cinnamon buns are all mine."

"That's really unfair, and very unnecessary. A body like mine was made to work off two hours sleep."

Your eyes widen. "Two hours? Leo!"

"Can you just hand me my breakfast already?"

You groan, but a promise is a promise. You set the plate down on a nearby toolbox before pushing yourself onto the counter, legs swinging. Leo dives for the plate, nudging your knee with his hip as he grabs the first cinnamon bun he can see and stuffs it in his mouth, nearly swallowing the thing whole.

"Watch you don't choke."

"Why are you so protective this morning?"

"Two hours sleep, Leo? That's awful."

He shrugs, fingers hovering over the plate as he searches for his next victim. "I'm used to it. I'm not even tired! It was a really refreshing two hours."

"You get worse, you know."

Leo rolls his eyes, looking up at you. "And how many hours of sleep did you get, Sleeping Beauty?"

"More than two hours."

He clicks his fingers. "I want the details."

You roll your eyes, swatting his hand away. "I had six hours, if you must know. I'm refreshed and ready for my day!"

"So am I."

"Liar."

"And what?"

You laugh, and Leo smiles, making the noise louder than it really is.

"But no," he continues. "Don't you go worrying about me, dear. Ol' Leo Valdez can handle himself."

"Ol' Leo Valdez needs to take a nap."

"A nap? Sounds cowardly." He grabs the spanner from the floor, spins it in the air, catches it with an ease that makes your breath catch. "How about I show you the new updates I've made to Festus?"

Festus, Leo's pride and joy, the one thing in the world he will talk about for hours upon hours on end; you've sat there and listened to him every single time, absorbing every word, even if you don't understand it. He talks about circuits and updates and tools you have never heard of, but he says it all with such enthusiasm it's almost impossible not to get involved. And even though you know you should be stubborn, insisting on him getting into bed right this instant, you want to see him in that state again. You always want to see him in that state, eyes glittering with passion, hands moving all over the place, smile brighter than anything.

He doesn't need an answer. You simply smile at him, slightly exasperated, and he says, "Alright!" before spinning on his heel, the very beginning of his lecture.

You listen to him talk like how you would listen to lo-fi music. Your legs swing back and forth, back and forth, a tiny smile gracing your features. Leo shows you different parts, illuminating the inside of Festus's new helmet with fire ignited in his calloused palm. It makes his grin impossibly brighter. It makes his curls that little bit darker. It's him.

Finally, he spins and says, "Cool, right?" and even though you were mildly distracted the entire time, you nod and say, "Very cool. As always."

"What are you doing here so early, anyway?" He strolls over, casually plucking another cinnamon roll off the plate and taking a bite.

"I saw you heading to Bunker 9 last night and just assumed this was where you slept. I thought you said you didn't sleep in here?"

He shrugs. "I sleep in here when I'm stressed; gets me away from the ruckus of everyone else, you know."

You raise a brow. "You were stressed?"

"Of course I was stressed." He looks at you, exasperated. "Do you not remember anything we discussed last night?"

You blink; it's not that you had forgotten - there's no way you'll be forgetting that night any time soon - but you thought for sure Leo had. Yes, he'd been there to help you through it, and he was the reason you went to bed smiling, but you were still a mortal, and your problems surely could never be as big as his. You genuinely sat in front of him and cried about feeling neglected by your mother when his own mother is dead, and his Dad doesn't even talk to him, too busy producing other godly children. But here he is, head tilted and eyes slashed with worry. You almost want to look away, but the colour in them has become so noticeably entrancing these past few weeks that you find it nearly impossible to do so.

"I didn't mean to stress you out," is all you can manage. "I was just ranting."

"You were crying."

"I was - I mean - like - yeah, I guess, but you don't have to stress."

Leo narrows his eyes. "You really are dense, aren't you?"

You open your mouth, ready to chastise him for saying such a thing, but your words are swallowed by the loud clang clang clang of the door opening. Leo stares at you for a second longer before glancing over his shoulder, sharing your shock at the sight of Will popping his head in the door. His lower lip is pulled between his teeth, movements slow and timid.

"Uh, sorry to interrupt," he says. "But we kind of need Y/N up at camp."

Those words are terrifying. They jolt you and Leo into action almost immediately; you slip off the counter, stumbling over a few discarded wrenches and old toolboxes. Leo catches you before you can fall, but neither of you comment on your suddenly linked hands before following Will out the door, curiosity getting the better of you.

You hear the commotion before you see it.

The sound of your mothers shrill voice is all-too familiar, and it echoes now. Bouncing off trees, sinking into the dirt, giving you a blistering headache that immediately makes you want to turn around and pretend you never heard it. But there's a crowd, an ocean of demigods, all with weapons and angry expressions trained on the woman who raised you - the woman who tried raising you - and despite the anger you once felt towards her, you pick up your pace, rush into the scene and say, "Ay! Get that spear out of my face!"

The demigod - you don't even know who she is - stumbles back, gaping at you. You don't give her the time of day, instead pivoting on your heel towards your mother.

There she is, stood in the middle of the clearing with her arms above her head, screaming up at the sky. Blood coats her elbows and knees. Chiron and Emma are beside her, but it seems like both of them have given up trying to make her see sense; they simply stare, Emma with tears in her eyes, Chiron looking like he's on the verge of booting her out of camp right this instant.

Leo stumbles to your side and grabs your arm. "What's wrong with her?"

You touch your mum's arm. "Mum, you're being proper embarrassing right now."

She spins. Her hair is matted, the product of having not been washed in weeks. Her eyes are dark, lips chapped and bitten, utterly destroyed. You've seen her when she's having one of her episodes, but this is worse. This is the worst you've ever seen it. It breaks your heart, even though it shouldn't. It was only last night she was basically calling you worthless, a mistake, the reason her little affair with a Greek god didn't work out.

You swallow. "Mum. . . It's me."

"Emma?"

You bite your lip, trying to ignore how much that hurts. "Uh. . . not quite, but nearly. Emma's over there."

"Don't get me involved in this," Emma spits, roughly swiping a hand across her cheek. "I don't want anything to do with her."

Your heart judders. Your mother's eyes narrow, like she's taking a little longer to process her first childs words. You decide to step in before she has a chance to.

"No, Mum, I'm not Emma, I'm Y/N. I'm here to - uh - take you home."

As soon as you say it, you want to curl in on yourself. It's a truth you've been trying to avoid these past few weeks, the idea of finally breaking away from camp and heading back to your shitty apartment with your shitty mother to live a shitty life of online classes and pretending everything is normal and okay. Behind you, Leo mumbles, "Sorry, what was that?" which hurts your heart even more. "Yeah," you continue, taking another timid step towards her. A branch cracks beneath your foot, and your mother flinches, looks up into the sky like the sound of a god appearing will be nothing more than a simple crack.

"Yeah, Mum, we're gonna go home, and you're gonna get some rest, okay? You look exhausted."

"Exhausted," she mumbles. "Home."

"Home, yeah. Remember home? We liked it there. Things were normal there."

Mum's nostrils flare. "Normal-"

"But our house is also where Ares thinks we are right now!" you barrel on. "He's got our address in his little address book - he doesn't actually know we're at Camp Half-Blood right now."

Her shoulders deflate, eyes brightening. "Oh. You're right. He's probably visited so many times and we haven't even been there! He's going to be so angry!"

"So, so angry." You wrap your arm around her shoulder, gently drawing her away from the crowd of angry demigods, of sobbing sisters and confused centaurs. You meet Leo's eyes only once, and it's enough to shatter your being, enough for the burning of tears to erupt through your senses. You want to turn and run to him, tell him you're sorry, promise to never leave him, but the feelings are so extraordinary and so weird, unfamiliar, that you can't.

You turn your gaze to the floor and guide your mother through the crowd towards the Big House, uttering words about home and comfort, and going back to a life you want to abandon for good. You pretend it's all okay, because that's all you've ever known.

----

Leo finds you that same night.

You left your mother in Chiron's care. She fell asleep immediately, and you were free to do what you wanted after that, but the thought of parading through Camp Half-Blood after being in the centre of such a weird scene made your stomach curl, so you stayed by her side until you were positive most of the campers were in bed, sleeping.

Except Leo, of course.

He sits down in the grass, shoulder brushing yours. You don't look over; you know it's him just from the scent of oil, and the way he cracks his knuckles, and the way he awkwardly coughs into the darkness. These are all little things of him you have memorised. Each one makes your heart ache.

Finally, after what feels like forever, he speaks. "You don't have to do all that, you know."

"Do what?"

"Stick up for her. Make her comfortable.

" You shrug. "I know I don't."

"So why do you do it?"

"Because she's my mum."

"She's barely your mum. She doesn't even do the bare minimum for you."

True. Painfully, awkwardly true.

You shrug again. Leo sighs, tilting his head back. When you glance over, you see him gazing up at the stars, jaw clenched in a way that throws off the soft features of his face you have grown so used to seeing. You don't like it.

You reach over and poke his cheek in an attempt to make him loosen up. He closes his eyes. "I don't get it."

"What?"

"Why you have to be the one taking care of her when she's never taken care of you."

You swallow thickly. "I'm not. . . I'm not taking care of her. I'm just-"

"Then what was that back there?"

"That was me trying to make sure my mum didn't get a spear shoved down her throat. It's basic human decency, Leo."

He purses his lips, like this is something he has never heard of.

You sigh, slumping back against a tree. "I don't hate my mum, you know; she's done some fucked up stuff to me, but I don't hate her."

Leo stares at you. His eyes are lazors, flames, beams pouring into the side of your head, and you want to look at him, but you think it would be a very bad idea right now.

Neither of you say anything for what feels like forever, which is a big deal when sitting with someone like Leo Valdez. The only noise filling in the silence is the steady drip of rain drops rolling down the leaves, bouncing against the lakes surface. A few ocean creatures peak their heads up, examine the scene, duck back beneath the water.

And then, "Are you actually leaving?"

You bite back a sob. "You didn't expect me to stay here forever, did you?"

Leo doesn't respond.

"She's not well here," you continue, tilting your head back. The moon waves at you. The stars smile. "She was bad at home, but being here - around this kind of thing - it's going to drive her insane."

"She's a grown woman."

"Ares messed her up." It's the first time you've said it out loud, the truth. Your mother was okay before she met that man. You've heard stories from your grandparents, your aunts and uncles, of the days when your mum was winning medals for her skills in ballet, the days she was getting awards for her academic success, the days where she played mediator in a house full of people who could never see eye-to-eye on anything. You listened to them with only half-interest, because you never fully believed them. You had lived with the crazy side of her for too long by that point.

But it's true. Ares waltzed into her life, promised her the world, gave her this child with skills beyond human comprehension, gave her a taste of real love for the first time in her life - and then he left.

"Why do gods think they can just get away with that?" you find yourself asking before you can stop. "Mess with people's lives like that. Why do they think that's okay?"

Leo sighs. "They run the world. They can do whatever they want."

"That seems really unfair."

"Yeah, well, it's also unfair that you have to give up your own happiness for your mum."

You close your eyes; there it is again, the topic breached. Leo doesn't understand that this is all you've ever known - caring for her, making sure she's okay, being ignored and neglected because you're not the gods child. He doesn't understand that this has been your life from day one. You were never given a chance to mind it. You were never given a chance to know anything else.

"You know, I think this place could really benefit with someone like you."

You look at him. "You're just saying that."

He shrugs, picking up a pebble and lobbing it at the lake. Always keeping his hands moving, never being still. "Maybe. Maybe I'm just a little desperate for you to stay." He looks at you. "Is that weird?"

You swallow, unable to respond, because you want to tell him no, no of course it's not weird, please keep talking and I'll stay, I'll stay here with you, I'll never leave, I never wanted to leave in the first place.

Leo looks down at his hands, fingers fiddling with the threads dangling from his overalls. "Sorry. I - I didn't mean to - like - put you on the spot or anything. I just care about you. A lot. And I hate seeing you upset. It bothers me."

The way it says it, words spoken through gritted teeth, makes your heart stutter. Oddly, it reminds you of those days spent laughing in Bunker 9, calling him stupid as he tried so hard to keep you amused, like he wanted to keep your attention as firm as possible so you wouldn't get up and leave. For once in your life, someone wants you to stay.

And it's sad - heartbreaking, even - that you have been cursed with these circumstances, that the mere notion of staying at Camp Half-Blood is so beyond reality; you're no demigod. Even if your mother were to head home on her own, do you a favour for once, the chances of Chiron being allowed to let you stay are incredibly, incredibly slim. You won't entertain the idea. You won't get your hopes up like that. You won't play to your own feelings, because that has never done anything for you, nothing but leave you in a state of despair.

And so, you keep quiet, staring out over the lake with Leo by your side, his hands working, his mind probably racing, your heart a steady thump in the distance.

---

The next day, you are ready to leave.

You packed all your things the night before. You said all your goodbyes the night before. You and Emma got into a brutal argument the night before, and now you're stood before her, trembling from head to toe as you patiently wait for Chiron to lead your mother to Thalia's pine tree so the both of you can finally be let go.

Emma stares at you. She's been doing that since last night, her hands balled into fists, jaw strong, so she looks a little bit like her father; you can say that now. You hate him. You think you'd punch him in the face if you ever saw him.

"I can't believe you're actually doing this for her."

"I never understood why you hate her so much - you're the one she actually cares about."

Emma grits her teeth, looking to the ground in that way she so often does when she's trying not to punch you square in the face. "That's not the point."

"You don't even deny it any more," you scoff. "You've just come to terms with the fact that she basically worships the ground you walk on. How about you start understanding how lucky you are rather than giving me grief for taking care of her?"

"Taking care of her?" Emma bursts. "She's your mother! She should be taking care of you!"

"Right, but that's not the way things have turned out, so we might as well cut the shit now before-"

"Leo spoke to me, you know." You freeze. Your mouth stays open, eyes widening; Leo is the absolute last thing you want to talk about right now, not after last night, not after hearing the hint of heartbreak in his voice when he realised it was too late, you were too far gone, there was no keeping you.

Emma nods, even though you haven't said anything, even though you can do nothing but stare at her in complete shock and bewilderment. "Yeah, Leo Valdez, the boy you're head over heels in love with."

You splutter. "What?"

"Oh, don't play dumb! I've seen the way you are with each other. I've seen the way you look at him. I've seen the way he looks at you, and for fuck sake Y/N, you shouldn't have to give all that up for someone like her!"

"That person you're on about is our mother!"

"And what? That means you have to put your entire life on hold for her?" Emma drops her sword in a move close to desperation, startling you when she barrels forward and grabs your shoulders. She holds you at arms length, eyes like fire. "You're my only little sibling, Y/N; it's my job more than anything else to look after you, and I'm not going to sit back and let your selflessness ruin your whole life."

You blink, and only then do the tears make an appearance. You think of Leo, even though you hate it, even though you've already said your goodbyes to him and you should just leave it at that. He hugged you, and you hugged him, and you apologised and he told you there was nothing to be sorry for - it was the perfect potential ending, but you don't want it to be over.

Emma is right; you're jeopardising your own happiness for this woman.

Emma stares at you, the tears leaking from your eyes. Her own lower lip trembles, but she's Emma, so she won't start crying. Not properly.

You inhale shakily, ducking your head down. "I can't let her go home on her own, Em. She'll never make it. She'll never agree to go if she doesn't have someone with her."

"So I'll go."

You freeze. "What?"

Emma tilts her head forward, catching your eye. "I said, I'll go. I'll take her home, get her settled, and then I'll get someone to come take care of her - a professional. Someone who should have been there for her a long bloody time ago. You can stay here for a while."

Your heart thunders. You're certain you've heard her wrong, because this isn't right - none of this is right. Emma's the demigod. She should be the one staying here whilst you get shipped off back home with your mother. That's how things have always been, how things were always meant to be. But when you look back at your older sister now, there is no glimmer of amusement in her eyes; she's being serious, more serious than you've ever seen her before.

She squeezes your shoulders, curling her stubby nails into the fabric of your hoodie. "I mean it, Y/N. If you want to stay here-"

"I do," you croak out. "I really, really do."

"For Leo?"

You blink.

Emma grins. "For Leo." She pats your shoulder, nearly knocking you off your feet. "Go, before her and Chiron make an appearance. I think Valdez is-"

But you don't let her finish. You know where Leo is even without her input, and so you throw yourself into her arms, squeal a thank you in her ear before sprinting off down the hill towards Bunker 9.

The gods should be yelling at you right now, casting lightning and rain and every other deadly element down upon you, because this must be so far out of the rule book. This must be going entirely against everything they have ever set up, every rule they have laid out - a mortal in one of their demigod camps? A mortal hanging around their children like their even close to being equal. Complete blasphemy.

But you don't care. Not when you round the corner to see the door to Bunker 9 already wide open, little flashes of Leo Valdez skimming past the entryway.

You pause in the trees, craning your neck to catch a glimpse of what he is doing, and it is only then do you see the spanner smash against one of the windows. The glass doesn't shatter, but it shakes and it makes a loud noise, and it's followed closely by Leo yelling out a curse that would get him blown to smithereens if his father were to hear it.

You sprint towards the door. "Leo?"

He spins around, eyes widening. He grips his hand, blood seeping from one of his fingers, dribbling down his wrist and landing upon his boots. He doesn't seem to care, though, simply staring at you in shock.

And then, "Y/N?"

You throw yourself forward, grabbing his wrist. The blood from his gets caught beneath your fingers, but you don't care. You stare at it, shaking your head, whispering his name over and over, and all he can do is stare at you, dumbfounded, before he exclaims, "Hey, wait!" and stumbles back, yanking his hand from your grip in the process.

"Leo, let me have a look at that-"

"You shouldn't be here right now!"

"Okay, Leo, yes, we'll discuss that later, but please, let me look at your hand. What the hell did you even do?"

You reach for him, but he's like a wild animal, startled and afraid. He stumbles back, nearly tripping over a toolbox discarded on the floor. You notice the mess that wasn't there this morning, the tools laying everywhere, sheets of torn paper thrown left, right and centre, broken glass littering the hard floor.

"Jesus, Leo," you gasp. "What have you been doing in here?"

"Why are you back? Why aren't you away yet?"

You lift your gaze, narrowing your eyes. "If you want me to go, you can just say so." And right now, looking at the scene around you and the state of Leo's hand, and his startled expression, you don't even feel bad that he very well might just ask you to turn and leave. Your mind is preoccupied, wanting nothing more than to grab him and force him to shut up so you can pay some attention to the gaping wound on the tip of his finger. His mouth opens and closes like a fish out of water. He's staring at you, unable to move, small of his back pressed against the workbench. The blood welling in his fingertip looks to only be getting worse.

"Leo," you say softly. "Please, can we talk about this later?"

He doesn't respond, but he doesn't run away when you take a step towards him, either. His eyes never leave your own as you reach for his hand and pull him towards a chair in the corner, slowly pushing him into it. You softly ask him to reach into that magic toolbelt of his to pull out some medical supplies, and he does so with trembling hands, never saying a word, never really needing to.

You get to work in silence, trying to ignore the thumping of your own heart, the tremble of your own hands, the desperate need you have to just apologise over and over and over for scaring him so bad, for startling him to the point where he can't even form a full sentence, to the point where he was willing to run away from you.

You clean the wound and bandage it the best way you can, remembering all those times as a child when you would cut yourself by accident and your mum would be too dazed or too neglectful to take you to the hospital or do anything about it herself.

Leo watches your hands working wonders until it's all finally complete and you step back, admiring your handiwork with a pleased grin on your face. "Not too shabby."

Leo swallows. Finally you take the time to look at him, his pale face and startled eyes; he looks like he's on the verge of tears, which really isn't the reaction you were hoping to receive when you walked back into Bunker 9.

You fold your arms over your chest, nibbling your bottom lip as you say, "I'm staying."

Leo exhales shakily. "I don't get it. Last night you were so adamant-"

"I know. I know I was, but I never wanted to go in the first place."

"So why-"

"Emma made me realise some things." You push yourself onto the workbench behind you, the very same spot you always found yourself sitting when Leo is working away on one of his projects. You used to sit with your legs pulled beneath you, watching him work in silence.

He stares at you. "I fully prepared myself to never see you again."

You wince. "I'm sorry."

And then he's scrambling out of his chair, stumbling between your legs, grabbing your hands, tugging them into his chest, all in that order. You gasp at the touch, the rough fabric of his plaster rubbing against your wrist, the forever warm touch of his skin so familiar yet you crave it so badly.

He's shaking his head, mumbling "No," on repeat beneath his breath

. "Leo. . ."

"I didn't mean to make you feel bad," he says. "So don't apologise to me again, alright? I don't want it. I don't need it - all that matters now is that you're here, and you - you said you're staying." He looks up, almost timid. "Did I hear that right?"

You nod, dazed; he's not mad. He's happy. He's smiling, and his eyes are doing that thing again where they glint and they crease into crescents, and he looks so cute, so happy, so like the Leo you've come to know and love so deeply. It makes your heart stutter. It makes this entire thing so, so worth it.

He grins. "Oh gods, Y/N, you scared the shit out of me. I nearly tore this place to the ground-"

"I can see that," you croak.

He winces, glancing awkwardly over his shoulder. "I didn't mean to - It was honestly an accident, but-"

"It's okay, Leo." His head snaps back round.

"It's okay?"

"It's all okay."

You reach forward, winding your arm around his neck, dragging him closer. His curls flood through your fingers, his eyes fluttering closed for a split second before he opens them again and says, "Can I kiss you?"

You nod, because of course he can. He does just that, pressing his lips to yours delicately, so, so delicately, like he's afraid you'll shatter. His hands are tender on your hips, thumbs rubbing gentle, mindless circles into the fabric of your shirt, and it's all so slow, all so gentle, but your heart is exploding into constellations, sprinkling over your being in a way you have never experienced before.

For someone who is never still, never calm, never quiet, his kisses are like a warm summer afternoon spent wading along a beach. They are aquamarine waters and birds chirping around a morning sunrise. They are everything and nothing and more than enough but never enough all in the same breath.

He pulls away first, uncertain, glancing nervously into your eyes as he slowly releases you. He takes a steady step back, rubbing the back of his neck, and it takes everything in you not to pull him back in.

Instead you laugh, swinging your legs back and forth like a giddy child. "Don't look so sheepish or I'll think you've poisoned me."

"I'm not very good at that," he mumbles. "Machines don't usually need kissed, so I don't tend to do it that often."

"I'd hope not." You grab his hand, pulling him back between your knees. "I'm sorry for scaring you earlier."

He opens his mouth, ready to protest your apologies once again, but you cut him off with five fingertips pressed to his lips. His eyes cross over as he glares at them, making you giggle. "I know you said I shouldn't apologise, but I shouldn't have been so. . . hasty. I shouldn't have lost my temper with you. I should have let you speak-"

"I don't say very interesting things."

"You say the most interesting things." You drop your hand, intertwine your fingers with his. "But I'm staying, Leo. I promise." He exhales shakily, like this is what he has been waiting to hear for a while now; it breaks your heart, rejuvenates you at the same time, and you realise suddenly just how awful it would have been to pack up your stuff and head home, to live a life without Leo Valdez in it.

---

Your mother looks a little better. A little healthier. A little happier.

Emma sits beside her, dressed in a t-shirt and jeans, a denim jacket over the top. She looks happy, too, a little exhausted, but you never expected anything less. She's still smiling, though, and when her face appears in the Iris message, she lets out a happy sigh of relief.

"I thought you two would fuck it up."

"Go to hell, Emma," says Leo.

You chuckle, leaning back in your seat; it's been two weeks since Mum and Emma went back to the flat together, two weeks since you agreed to spend the rest of your summer at Camp Half-Blood, working on a relationship with Leo Valdez. It's been a grand two weeks, yes, but you still have responsibilities back in the real world.

"So, how's it going?" you ask. "Mum, you're still going to therapy, aren't you?"

"Yes," Mum mumbles, sounding more like an anguished teenager than anything else. "I've told you both already, I don't need it - I got over Ares years ago. I have my own family now - he can go to hell."

"Tartarus," Leo corrects.

"Whatever."

You grin. It's been so long - so long - since you've heard your mum mention you in the same context as Emma, including your name in the same sentence as the word family. Leo must notice your sudden shift in mood, as he chuckles, placing a gentle hand on the small of your back. He does that sometimes, letting you know he's there, like you'd ever forget. You reach behind you and tangle your fingers with his, subtly placing your joined hands in your lap.

"A few more weeks," you tell her. "That's all you have to endure, and then they're putting you on that trial, aren't they?"

"Apparently," Mum replies. "I was thinking of coming to visit you."

You and Emma share a look - the last time your mother was at Camp Half-Blood, things didn't exactly go well. The energy of this place drove her insane, reminded her of days with Ares, reminded her she'd been abandoned by the one man she ever loved.

Leo cuts in. "Oh, no! I was hoping Y/N and I could come out there and visit you guys for the week!"

Your head whips round. "You were?"

"Well, yeah." Leo rolls his eyes, faux exasperation. "I did tell you about it. I haven't been back to your house since the giant threw that boulder through your window." He rubs his finger along your scarred, damaged knuckles, forever torn from the boulder that destroyed all your nerve endings. "I think it would be a grand old time, personally."

"I agree," Emma chimes in. "And it would be less stressful for us - we can just wait here for them to arrive, and you still get to see Y/N!"

Mum hums, thoughtful, and for just a second, you're certain she's going to revert back to her old ways. She's going to call you scum, pretend you don't exist, make you feel like shit all over again; judging by the sudden grip Leo has on your hand, he thinks the exact same thing. You thought this was over with. You thought your Mum had gotten better, that she finally realised you are her child, too, and-

"I guess it would be a lot less hassle."

Leo exhales. "Great! It's a date."

"For you two, maybe," Emma grumbles. "Look, we have to leave in two minutes, so this is goodbye."

"Jeez, Em, tell us how you really feel."

"See you in a few weeks, assholes!" And before you or Leo can respond, the Iris message is flickering to a close, leaving you and Leo alone in Bunker 9.

It's silent for a few seconds. Leo grips your hand, running his thumb along your knuckles, and it suddenly feels so, so hard not to cry.

"She's getting so much better," you choke out.

Leo's head snaps round, eyes widening at the crack in your voice. "Hey, no. Don't you start crying on me, okay? This is a good thing! Good!" He cups your face, forcing you to look at him. He has that goofy look, his eyebrows stitched together, his lips pursed; it makes you laugh every time.

You reach up, wrapping your hands around his wrists just to keep the feel of him against you for a little longer. "I'm not going to cry. I'm not a bitch."

"It's all good here, Y/N," he says. "I always told you it's all good here."

And with his hands on your face, his eyes gazing into your own, the sweet weather of Camp Half-Blood flourishing outside, you know he's telling the truth. It's all good.

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thoushallnotfall · 4 years

Text

God Bless the Children of the Beast - Part 7

Previous // Masterlist

Pairing: The Dirt!Tommy Lee x Reader

Word Count: 5.6k (kill me)

Notes: Okaaay, so this got out of hand in a lot of ways. I really have no idea what happened here. I am setting my self up for an emotional SHITSTORM.

The Razzle thing was not planned; but the more I wrote it the more I liked it and god that’s gonna be so sad later. 🥺 But we gotta suffer before we’re happy folks! Suffer! Next updates gonna a lot! ((Also…Cause of Death: Razzle’s accent. Sorry I know okay??))

Also, for the Looks That Kill video; obviously you should go watch the full music video, but here’s a picture of Tommy backstage with the actress in her outfit.

Warnings: Drug Use

1984

You and the boys had gone out to a club to party, and you were having a blast. You’d stuck with the boys in booth at first–drinking and doing some lines of coke to get the night started–but once the girls starting showing up you decided you’d rather find your own fun instead of watching the boys have there’s.

You head out onto the dance floor, swaying along to the music as you let the drugs and alcohol fuel your movements. Prince’s “When Dove’s Cry” had just started blasting through the speakers, when you hear a voice call out to you.

“Well ‘ello there!” He yells over the music. You turn to see a young man with long chestnut hair smiling at you. He was wearing a red velvet jacket over a silky, ruffled button up shirt, and a top hat. Definitely glam rock, you thought; though a different brand than your boys. “You look like you could use a drink.” He says, in an unmistakable English accent. You look him up and down, not making any effort in hiding the action.

Oh, what the hell? You were sick of the boys having all the fun.

“I think you’re right.” You agree with a smirk.

You follow him over to the bar, leaning on it as you order a bottle of Jack Daniels. He comes over, leaning on his elbow so he’s facing you.

“Are ya plannin’ to get glasses, or are we drikin’ it straight from the bo'le?” He asks, smiling.

“Who says I’m sharing?” You reply, smirking back at him playfully.

“Oof, are all American women this cold?” He jokes.

“I thought you Brits were used to the cold?” You shoot back. He laughs.

“Touché.” He leans in. “But just cause we’re used to the cold, that don’t mean we ain’t fond of a li'le ‘eat every once an' awhile.”

The bartender brings your bottle of Jack, with two glasses, and you open the it and quickly pour out drinks for the two of you; grateful for something to focus on that wasn’t the look he was giving you. You were used to the odd flirtation here and there, but you rarely flirted back, so nothing every got very far. This was new territory for you, and you had to admit, as confident as you may appear on the outside, you were feeling a little flustered. Good thing you had a little liquid courage to keep things going. You take your drink in one quick shot as he watches you.

“Wow, I’m impressed.” He says, smiling. “Though I’d expect nothin’ less from a bird who ‘angs wif Motley Crue.” He says as he takes a drink. You squint at him, then roll your eyes.

“Oh I see; you want to meet the band–that’s why you wanted to get drinks with me.” You say, pouring yourself another drink.

“Well, I would like to meet ‘em,” He starts, and you scowl over at him. “But drinkin’ wif you seems like a much be'er use of my time.” He finishes, smiling. You squint at him.

“And if I don’t believe you?” You ask. He puts a hand over his heart, raising his other up.

“Scouts ‘onor!” He replies.

“You couldn’t have been a boy scout–you’re fucking English!” You snap.

“I don’t know! It’s just what you American’s always say in movies, innit?” He replies. The two of you look at each other, and you both start cracking up.

“What’s your name anyway?” You ask.

“Razzle.” He replies, dramatically taking off his top hat and doing a sweeping bow.

“Razzle?” You repeat, laughing.

“It’s my stage name. I’m the drumma for the band Hanoi Rocks. We’re here on our first Norf American tour.”

“Uh huh. Well my name’s y/n Sixx. It’s nice to meet you Razzle.” You hold out your hand but he just looks at you.

“I’m sorry, did you say y/n Sixx, as in–”

“As in Nikki Sixx, yeah; he’s my older brother.” You smirk. “Not gonna scare you off, is it?”

“He’s not gonna murder me, is he?” He asks, half-serious.

“Probably not.” You reply with a smile.

You and Razzle hang by the bar, chatting and flirting. In spite of your best efforts, you’re actually having fun. Razzle is funny and charming; and that accent isn’t hurting anything either. He’s cute, and ridiculous, and more than anything he’s not in Motley Crue. When was the last time you’d spent any real time with anyone that wasn’t one of those four maniacs? Had you ever really? Aside from making friends with Vince’s girlfriend Sharise, you’d had basically no relationships with anyone outside the band since, well–ever, and even then she was your friend because of the band. You had no one; nothing you’d made on your own.

Eventually, perhaps emboldened by the alcohol, you decide to take Razzle to meet the boys. After all, if you do decide to leave with him, they’ll need to know where you’ve gone. You head over to the booth where the boys are, each of them–except Mick–with at least one girl sitting next to him. You walk up smiling as Razzle trails behind you, his hand in yours as you lead him through the crowd.

“Hey guys, you look like you’re enjoying yourselves.” You comment, looking around at the girls at the table. The boys laugh.

“Right back at you.” Vince says, eyeing Razzle. “Finally living a little, huh y/n? Good for you.” He laughs.

“Fucking nasty, I don’t need to hear this shit.” Nikki says, looking away.

“Welcome to my world.” You smirk at him. Tommy, sitting next to Nikki, just stares at Razzle with an unreadable expression.

“Anyway, this is Razzle; I picked him up on the dance floor–” You introduce him.

“Oh you picked me up, is it?” He interjects and you laugh, ignoring him as you continue.

“–he’s in the band Hanoi Rocks; they’re actually here on their first North American tour.” You finish.

“Why don’t you guys sit down? Join us?” Vince offers. There’s barely enough room for you two to squeeze in by Mick.

You all start talking and drinking, and Razzle easily merges himself into the group. The boys all seem to get along with him well; all except Tommy, who’s been acting weird ever since you got back.

“So what do you play man?” Nikki asks him.

“Oh, I’m the drumma.” Razzle replies, and for whatever reason you catch Tommy scoff and look away.

“How you liking the states so far?” Vince asks.

“Oh, it’s been great.” Razzle says, then he leans his arm around your shoulder, looking down at you. “But I think it’s ge'in’ even be'a.” Tommy rolls his eyes as you feel the heat rise in your cheeks.

No one has ever openly flirted with you in front of the boys before; it was–well, it was nice. Embarrassing–oh absolutely–but it also felt good to be seen as something other then a friend, or a sister; and to be wanted enough that they’d be willing to risk pissing off Motley fucking Crue–that felt, well…

“Hey,” You start, smiling over at Razzle. “You know I just remembered; I think I left the stove on in my hotel room. I should probably go check it…” You trail off. Razzle’s eyebrows shoot up so far they nearly disappear into the brim of his top hat.

“Uh, right then; well we wouldn’ wan to um, burn down the ‘otel now would we then?” He says, clearly nervous as he scrambles to stand.

“No, we wouldn’t.” You reply, raising an eyebrow. You see him swallow a lump in his throat.

“Right well, um…” He glances over at the boys, who are all looking back at the two of you with a mix of expressions. Vince can barely contain his laugher, but also almost looks proud, Nikki just looks grossed out, and Mick looks bored. Tommy looks pissed; completely forgetting the girls setting on either side of him as he glares over at Razzle. “I could give you a 'and wif that, if you like?”

“I’ll need both hands, actually.” You reply. You hear someone–Nikki, you think–choke on their drink, but you’re pretty far past paying any attention to the boys. You have to deal with groupies sticking their hands down the boys pants and giving them blowjobs under the table on a regular basis; they can live with a little bit of pregame flirting. You do hear Vince laughing his ass off; at least someone was happy for you.

“Right then.” Razzle was blushing now, probably because he was worried about you being so suggestive in front of the boys and he didn’t want to get his ass kicked. “I’ll see you around then mates, eh?” He says, tipping his hat to the boys quickly as you grab his scarf to pull him away. As you take a quick glance back at the table, you catch a glimpse of Tommy glaring daggers at Razzle.

“You kids be safe now!” Vince yells, a shit eating grin on his face. “Use protection!” You throw up your middle finger with your free hand, and you hear him laugh before he’s drown out by the noise of the club.

—

You and Razzle had a lot of fun—a lot; and surprisingly he didn’t just leave after the two of you slept together. You end up hanging out and talking most of the night; ordering room service and getting to know each other while taking frequent breaks to make out. By the time you finally pass out, covered in nothing but the sheet and Razzle’s arms, you felt the stirring of something new forming inside you.

Razzle left the next morning to join back up with his bandmates, but not before peppering you with kisses and sweet nothings. You rolled your eyes and hit him with your pillow, laughing. As he leans away, you grab his scarf and pull him in for one more long kiss, before finally sending him on his way.

You’d both compared tour schedules and you each knew the names and locations of the next hotels the other was staying at; if one of you wanted to call each other, you very easily could. But would you? Would he? You were willing to admit he was a nice distraction and he seemed like a good guy; but would you go all the way and admit to yourself that you may have developed a bit of a crush on the charming Brit?

Your own hang ups aside, that would be complicated; you were touring with the boys, while Hanoi had their own tour, so not a lot of time to get to know each other. When your tour was done and maybe you could try to spend some time with him, he’d be back in London; kinda of far to try and start anything. If there was anything, of course. Still, you’ve seen crazier things work; you were touring with them right right now. Then there was the boys to consider: could you leave them behind for someone else? If it ever came to that?

You realize you’re being ridiculous. No matter how much you may think you like him, it was still only one night; no need to worry about it right now. If you did ever see him again, then you could work something out. Maybe you could go visit him when he went home or something; just for a little while. You had always wanted to go to England, and maybe a little time away from the boys would be good for you after spending three years solid with them.

You remembered to ask Tommy about all the attitude he gave Razzle the next day on the bus. He didn’t seem that thrilled to talk about it; outright denying it at first, before playing it off after you kept pushing. Finally, he said that he was 'just being a good friend.’ When you questioned him further, he said he just didn’t think Razzle was a good match for you; said the rockstar lifestyle isn’t a good place to pick up a committed boyfriend, and that you’d have to uproot your whole life. You couldn’t help but laugh at that.

“Dude, first of all I know exactly what rockstars get up to–you don’t have to tell me, I’ve seen it.” You reply “But then what about you? Aren’t you a rockstar looking for true love?”

“That’s different.” He says, looking away.

“And what’s this uprooting my whole life business? Didn’t you tell me your mom came here from Greece when she didn’t even know English because your parents were so in love? I’m not looking to elope with the guy, but at least if I did ever go visit him we’d be speaking the same language.” You laugh.

“Barely…” He mutters under his breath.

“Ugh, I seriously don’t get you!“ You say, shoving his shoulder in frustration as you sit next to him. “You bug me for years to date, and I finally show the slightest bit of interest in a guy, and suddenly everything in the world is wrong with him?” You ask.

“No dude, it’s just–“ He says, leaning his head back against the seat. “You just deserve the best, that’s all; I don’t want you wasting your time with someone who isn’t good enough for you.” You smile and grab his hand, and he lifts his head and looks at you.

“Tommy, that’s sweet, really–you know I appreciate how much you care about me, and I feel the same way about you. But I’m a big girl and I can take care of myself.” You squeeze his hand, holding onto the moment for a little longer, before finally letting go. “Besides, you should really be taking your own advice there bud; I’m not the one with a string of crazy ex-girlfriends. Maybe instead of judging my taste in partners, you should start trying to be a little more selective with yours, hmm?” You joke, and Tommy groans.

“They really do always start out so great though.” He whines.

“Yes Tommy, I’m sure the sex is great with a hot girl with a lot of experience; but you really need to learn to look past that and see the signs that these women are just using you for your fame, money, and good looks.”

“You think I’m good looking?” He asks, smiling.

“Your one redeeming feature.” You joke, pinching his cheek.

—

1984

How did this happen?

You watch in the mirror as the stylist finishes applying your make-up. You look at your face under your mane of hair; as wild and big as they could possibly make it. They’d given you make-up like the boys; foundation obviously lighter than your skintone, your eyes were lined black, and your eyeshadow was smokey and expertly done. You had a dark berry blush spread across your cheekbones, and a matching lipstick on your lips. Under the large, silver prop tiara that spread across your face you looked intense to be sure. Again, you had to wonder: how did this happen?

“How’s it coming along in here?” Doc asks, popping his head into the room. You turn your head to look at him, and you were sure the gust of wind caused by your giant wall of hair would probably cause a hurricane in China someday. “Ha! You look fantastic!” He says, coming fully into the room and throwing his arms up.

“Yeah, great–remind me again why I’m the one doing this?” You ask.

“The actress who we originally booked for the role called in–said she had some emergency and couldn’t make it.” Doc explained.

“And so why are we not using one of the other post-apocalyptic actress chicks as a stand-in?” You ask as you hug your arms around your exposed midruff; your costume leaving very little to the imagination.

You were dressed in a black, red, and silver 'armored’ bikini. The top was a tube that attached to a shoulder guard on one side. There were a lot of belts and chains incorporated into the outfit, and your legs were covered by holey fishnets tights. You also sported a thick red collar around your neck, and some ankle high, black heeled boots.

“When the guys heard I guess one of them suggested you would be good for the role, and then the rest thought it was such a great idea they refused to consider any alternatives.” You scowled at him, and he shrugs. “You know how they get; when they’ve made up their minds there’s no talking them out of it.” You sigh, knowing he was right. “Anyway, we should head out that way; they’ll need you on set before too long.“

The boys had already been filming for awhile, getting some of the first few shots done. They were apparently having to reset and reshoot a lot, and they were expecting to have to be there most of the day.

Great, you were so looking forward to walking around all day in a bikini with your ass hanging out.

You walk out on set, arms still wrapped around your exposed midriff. The boys were all hanging out together, waiting for the crew to set up the next scene. Tommy is the first to spot you, his eyes going wide as he takes you in. He doesn’t say anything, just keeps staring at you: eyes wide, mouth open. You start to feel a little self-conscious as you walk up to them, then Vince notices you.

“Damn y/n! I knew you’d look good in that costume but shit–if I’d have know you were gonna look this good, I’d have paid you a visit in your dressing room earlier.” He jokes, and you smirk.

“Keep that up Vinny, and I just might have to have a conversation with your wife.” You quip. The boys all laugh.

“You do look fierce in that outfit Sixx; like something out of Mad Max.” Mick says.

“Yeah, if Mad Max was a porno.” You mumble. He chuckles. “Thanks Mick.” You quickly add, realizing he had found a way to compliment you without being a creep like Vince.

“I’m not really looking forward to this; it sounded funny at the time, but now it’s just weird.” Nikki says, his nose wrinkled. “I’ll let Vince do the handsy scenes; I’ll just tell the director to only get shots of me and my bass.”

“Seconded.” Mick says, clearly not loving the idea of having to touch you. Oh right. You’d kind of forgotten the script had them physically touching you a few times.

The general premise of the video was some vague, probably post-apocalyptic world. The boys would corral a group of girls into a pen, then you’d bust throw a wall up on a hill, free the girls, then the boys would chase you into some futuristic hallway. This is where they’d actually put hands on you, even if it was only for a second or two each time, before you’d slip away from them. Then they’d team up and somehow smite you, leaving behind a burning pentagram. There were a few scenes you were worried about; some closeups where you would have to actually do some facial acting, the one where you had to hold a large shield that had actual fire on it, and some physical stuff. But you hadn’t considered the fact that you’d have to be sexy with the boys while dressed in a skimpy bikini.

“Those scenes don’t last very long, right? I can do that; and we can just use Vince and Tommy. It’ll be fine.” You reply.

“Huh? Oh, yeah–yeah right. That’s totally fine.” Tommy says, looking down.

—

You watched the boys film until it got to be your turn to go on. You were nervous, but found yourself actually pretty excited at the same time. It took a couple takes to get into the swing of things, but once you got the initial jitters out of your system things started moving along smoothly. You managed to get half your scenes with little issue; even getting through the flaming shield scene without getting burned. They cut for a break when they had to move the sets for the new shooting location, the futuristic hallway, and you all finally had a break. You spot Tommy walking around with two middle aged people, showing them the set. When he sees you, he smiles wide and waves you over.

“Mom, dad, this is y/n!” He says, squeezing your shoulder. “Y/N, this is my mom and dad!”

Great, you’re meeting Tommy’s perfect suburban parents dressed like a post-apocalyptic hooker. Isn’t that just swell.

“It’s so nice to finally meet you Mr. and Mrs. Bass; Tommy talks about you all the time.” You say, smiling at them politely. You wanted Tommy’s parents to like you, but you weren’t really used to parents.

“Shut up, dude.” Tommy whispers, nudging you with his elbow. “I do not.” You laugh.

“It is nice to finally meet you y/n.” Tommy’s mother says, smiling at you warmly as she comes over to give you a hug. You’re surprised, but you reciprocate, wrapping your arms around her. Her dark, curly hair tickled your face as she holds you; she smells like vanilla. “Tommy is all always telling us stories about you when he calls.” She says, still smiling warmly as she lets you go.

“Oh gosh, that’s, uh–that’s embarrassing.” You say.

“Oh no, not at all; we appreciate you taking care of Tom. We sleep better knowing our boy has someone out here who really cares about him and whose’s looking out for his wellbeing.” His father says, wrapping an arm around his wife. Looking out for him? What had Tommy been telling them?

“Come on pop, now that’s embarrassing.” Tommy whines.

“No more embarrassing than what you're used to causing yourself everyday.” You joke without thinking. You throw your hand up, looking at his parents, who both laugh.

“And you keep him on his toes I see–Tom said you were funny.” He dad says. “And clever.”

“I don’t know if those were my exact words.” Tommy grumbles.

“But Tommy, you did not say she was so pretty?” His mom says, smacking her son lightly on the arm. Even though there’s no way it hurt him, he rubs the spot where her delicate hand made impact.

“I don’t see how that matters?” Tommy asks.

“Y/N, do you have boyfriend?” Tommy’s mother asks, grabbing your hands. You feel a fire burst in your cheeks.

“Um…” You didn’t even no where to begin with that question.

Technically speaking–the answer was no, you didn’t; but it was a bit more complicated than that. After your night with Razzle you admit you thought about him more than you had expected to that next day. Then that whole night. Then the next morning. So it was a total shock when, your resolve nearly broken, he actually called you first.

If one of you hadn’t called you might not have spoken again for some time; not knowing exactly which hotel the other would be in next. He admitted he had been thinking about you just as much, and the two of you exchanged hotel info again and agreed to call as soon as you got to your next destination. And you did. You kept calling, at every hotel you went to you called, or he called, and you just talked. That’s it. You were sure he was probably still sleeping with groupies, but you couldn’t be mad at him, because he wasn’t your boyfriend; he was just a guy you talked to every day. And that’s all it could be–for now.

Then there was the other half of his mother’s question: Tommy. First of all, she was only asking because she wanted to set you up, which just, no. Tommy was your best friend; every girlfriend he’d ever been with had made this mistake and it’s no surprise his parents would make it too. You were close, and of course you loved him, but not like that. It was sweet his mom would actually think you were good enough for her son, but that wasn’t ever going to happen. Not in this lifetime.

The more pressing issue here, was her asking if your single seemed to indicate she thought Tommy was currently single. That meant she didn’t know about Roxy; Tommy’s new girlfriend. She was some groupie Tommy had picked up from some other band the boys had played with. She saw her opportunity with a bigger, more successful band and she’d pounced. And of course Tommy–sweet, stupid Tommy–had fallen head over heels for her.

“Mom! Come on, don’t even start with that!” Tommy says. Before his mom can argue, Doc walks up with Nikki in tow, looking a little disheveled. “Oh hey, here’s someone else I want you to meet. Mom, dad meet the Sixxter.” He says, walking over to Nikki and giving him a high five.

“So nice to finally meet you.” Tommy’s mother says, giving Nikki a hug. Nikki looks awkward as he hugs her back, clearly not expecting the affectionate greeting.

“It’s a pleasure.” Tommy’s father says, giving Nikki a firm handshake.

“Hey, Nikki, y/n; we could fly your family out for the next LA gig.” Doc says.

“Yeah that’s a great idea Doc.” Nikki replies sarcastically. You can’t help but hide a laugh behind your hand. You’d say something too, but you don’t want to ruin Tommy’s time with his parents by speaking ill of your own.

“Oh guys I want you to meet somebody else.” Tommy says, calling someone over. You suddenly see the expression on Nikki’s face change to one of surprise. He quickly hides his face behind his hair when Roxy walks over, and you instantly know what that means. You feel a hot ball of rage start burning in the pit of your stomach. You swallow, holding it down until the conversation is over and you can get Nikki alone.

“Mom, dad this is Roxy; my fianceé.” Tommy says. Your head snaps to Tommy.

“What?” You can’t help but say out loud. Everyone looks at you. Roxy scowls. You stammer, trying to backpedal. “No sorry I just–I, I hadn’t heard; congratulations.” Roxy looks back at Tommy’s parents.

“Nice to meet you.” She sticks out her hand, which Tommy’s mom grabs, clearly in shock. Roxy quickly takes her hand away, Tommy’s mom still staring at the girl.

“We’re getting married!” Tommy announces with excitement.

“What’s the rush Tom? Marriage is a big decision.” His dad says, clearly disapproving despite his best efforts to try and sound supportive.

“Exactly! You purposed to mom the night that you guys met and she didn’t even speak English. That’s love dude! And that’s what I’ve always wanted! And now that’s what I’ve got.” Tommy says, looking down at Roxy. There was adoration in Tommy’s eyes, but you didn’t see it reflected in Roxy’s. She was using him, and everyone could see it except Tommy; too blinded by his own love. You ground your teeth as you looked at them, but said nothing.

“So, how did you and Tommy meet?” Tommy’s mother asks Roxy, trying to be supportive. She was such a kind woman; nothing like your own mother. You could see now how Tommy turned out the way he did, with such supportive and loving parents.

“Well, I was actually hanging out with this other band but then I met Tommy and it was totally meant to be.” She replies, not putting much effort into selling the emotion behind it; but at least she used the words Tommy liked to hear. He was all about that true love and destined lovers nonsense.

“Oh, I know this word, um–groupie, right? Is that how they call you?” She asks. She acts innocent, as if she doesn’t know what she’s just said, but you have a feeling she knows exactly what’s she said, and you think you may need Tommy’s mom to adopt you now. You laugh through your nose, throwing up your hand to hide the action. Roxy glares over at you, turning on her heels and storming off.

“Mom, that’s not cool.” Tommy says.

“I do not understand, you say this word all the time like it’s the best thing in the world.” She replies.

“Tommy–” You start.

“No, you are not helping.” He says, before chasing off after Roxie.

“Wasn’t really trying to.” You mumble under your breath. You turn back to his parents, who look at each other with worried expressions. You aren’t really sure it’s your place, but you feel like you should say something.

“Look, I wouldn’t worry about it too much.” You say, smiling at them. “Tommy likes big romantic gestures and he’s constantly chasing after his dream of finding true love, but he always picks these awful girls. I admit the engagement was a surprise, but this whole scenario’s not new; it’ll all blow over soon.” They glance at each other, then look back at you.

“It sounds like you know Tommy well.” His mother says, smiling.

“I guess so.” You shrug. “Look, all I’m saying is I wouldn’t be shopping for any wedding outfits just yet.” You say, and his father laughs.

“We’ll keep that in mind.” He replies.

You say goodbye to them, more hugs are involved, and quickly make your way across the set. You see your brother talking to Mick. When they see you approaching, they can instantly see you’re pissed.

“The fuck’s wrong with you?” Nikki asks, looking bored.

“We need to talk. Now.” You say, glaring daggers at him. He stares back at you, saying nothing. Finally, he concedes, silently following you as you lead him to your dressing room.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” You ask, practically spitting venom with every word.

“You want a list? Or are we talking in general?” He quips.

“Cut the shit Nikki.” You hiss. “You fucked Tommy’s girlfriend, you asshole!” He scowled at you.

“So?” He replies cooly.

“So? What the fuck do you mean so?” You yell.

“She’s a fucking groupie y/n; who cares if I fuck her?” He spits back.

“Oh I don’t know, how about her boyfriend? You know, your best friend Tommy? He would be fucking heartbroken if he ever found out!” You reply, your own heart aching at the thought.

“Better Tommy break up with that bitch now than marry her! I did him a goddamn favor by exposing her for the cheater she is!” He shouts.

“You know he’s gonna break up with her either way, you fucking prick! Don’t try to make yourself feel better by making up bullshit excuses for sleeping with your best friend’s girlfriend!” You scream.

“You’re the one making up bullshit excuses; acting like you give a shit about that English fuck, when it’s Tommy you really want.” Nikki accuses, pointing a finger at you.

“Oh god, this bullshit again? I can’t believe even you’re buying into that crap.” You say rolling your eyes. “I’m not on trial here, Nikki; but for the record, I don’t want to fuck Tommy. Though you just did, you fucked him good; when you screwed his girlfriend. Oh no, I’m sorry–his finaceé. I bet he’ll ask you to be his best man too; how fun do you think that ceremony’s gonna be, hmm?”

The two of you stare at each other in silence for a long time, neither one of you wanting to speak first. You refused to back down this time; you knew Nikki was in the wrong, and you weren’t sure if you would ever forgive him. No, you knew you couldn’t. Finally, he sighed, breaking the silence.

“So what? You gonna tell him?” He asks quietly.

“No, of course not, don’t be stupid.” You reply, scowling. “I already told you; he’d be heartbroken.”

As much as you didn’t want to hide the truth from Tommy, you also didn’t want to hurt him. You want to protect his heart from ever having to experience the pain of betrayal. You had felt disappointment, sadness, heartache; you never wanted Tommy to feel those things. All his breakups were so superficial, sure they hurt, but only briefly. Nikki betraying him? That would cut deep; deeper then anything he’d ever felt before. He might not ever recover from that. You couldn’t let him feel that, even if it meant betraying him yourself and lying about ever knowing. A small, miserable part of you hated Nikki for putting you in this position; if he hadn’t done this stupid, horrible thing, then you wouldn’t have to lie to Tommy about it. This was Nikki’s fault, not yours. Even if you were lying, you were only doing it to protect Tommy; that didn’t make you a bad person.

Did it?

“So what then?” Nikki asks.

“Look, she’ll be gone soon one way or another; that’s only a matter of time. Hopefully, she won’t say anything about the two of you when she goes, then that will be the end of it.” You explain.” Just, from now on, don’t sleep with you best friend’s girlfriend; which is not something I should need to tell you.” You add, exasperated.

“Uh huh, thanks for the tip.” Nikki says, walking towards the door.

“And Nikki?” You call after him.

“Yeah?” He asks, his hand already on the door handle.

“I’m never going to forgive you for this.” You tell him plainly. There’s a long pause.

“Yeah, I know.” He finally replies, before leaving you alone in the room.

#tommy lee x reader #the dirt!tommy lee x reader #mgk!tommy lee x reader #the dirt x reader #the dirt #tommy lee

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dingoat · 3 years

Photo

[I mulled over a few possible options for this one, heh, but after some chatter with @cinlat I realised I could mush some of my ancient Ahuska backstory with half baked future plans with vague species lore/headcanons and string it along into something roughly story-shaped. The whole thing wound up a lot more somber than I’d anticipated, but at least I can always count on Crow to soften the mood!] ---

For the better part of three weeks, she’d been dwelling. What had started out as the most unexpected news conceivable had led to a flurry of unanswerable questions; was the news welcome? Was she excited? Did she care? Did she want anything to do with it? But that had all rapidly died down into a sullen simmering of nerves, as Ahuska struggled with something she genuinely never thought she’d have to face.

She had a family. She’d been raised well, and loved, as far back as she could properly remember. Did she really want to go back further, did she need to know anything about where she’d come from? The thought of being connected to Bothawui in any way made her feel ill, but Crow had gently reminded her, over and over, that this changed nothing.

She was Mando’ad, where family is built on more than bloodline, and having surviving relatives from a life she couldn’t even recall changed nothing.

Having a twin brother changed nothing.

Except that it clearly meant something to… him. And the older one. Two brothers, with families of their own, who’d reached out to find the sister they’d thought they’d lost with their parents. She wasn’t sure she wanted to know them, but…

“Crow?” Ahuska tapped his arm with a single hesitant finger, but he’d already turned to seek her out. They were more in tune with one another than ever.

“Mmm?”

“I think I… I want you to meet my family,” she mumbled, eyes slipping to the side.

Crow grinned his softer grin. “Ahhh, I think we’ve already been through that part of the relationship. Was a couple years ago now, at least?”

She felt her ears grow warm, but her eyes turned back to him. “With me, I mean. I want you to come with me to… meet the family I haven’t met yet. I don’t know if I even want to call them that yet, I guess, I doubt they’ll want to either once they’ve met me…”

“Oh, psshh,” Crow made to wave away her worry with a flick of his hand. “You said the whole reason they found out you existed was from holos of the business down at the Ve’lora place, right? Not like they haven’t already got some sort of clue about the life you live, and they still reached out.”

“It already feels so weird, though. They’ve known about me… all their lives. They… knew me, a-and mourned me? They missed me, and I’ve just never known… it’s like they’re strangers, who call me a sister. It’s fethin’ weird.”

“I know, I know. And if they’ve got half a brain between them they’ll realise that too. All you gotta do is meet them, say hi to them and their… uh, heh. Hey. What are baby bothans called, anyway?”

“Huh? What, I… I don’t think he told me any of their names, I don’t even know how many kids he said they each had…”

“What? No, I meant like… y’know. Do you call them… uhhh, like how little cathar are kits, and…”

Every one of Ahuska’s nerves abruptly vanished, and the series of blinks followed by a hard stare made Crow immediately realise he’d made one of those mistakes.

“Sorry, sorry, I just figured…”

“Babies,” Ahuska said, her tone completely flat. “Baby bothans are babies. Not cubs, not fawns, not kits…” her snout wrinkled a little at that.

Crow’s manner was meek, but the way he squinted at her made it clear he was still trying to work out where exactly the problem lay. “Okay but… don’t… wouldn’t there be some word you use for them…?”

“What, like ik’aad?”

“Yeah, exactly!” Crow brightened as Ahuska offered the comparison, then immediately ducked his head as her expression grew harder still.

“Like ik’aad. The Mando’a word that literally translates to ‘baby’?”

Crow’s grin wavered, sensing a trap. “Ye-es…?”

“Not likaya? Not pe’ninr?” Ahuska continued to watch Crow carefully as she offered the Mando’a for kitten and puppy.

“Well. No. Of course-”

“Of course not!” Ahuska snapped over the top of him, with an emphatic gesture of both hands to drive her point. “Likaya literally means baby cat. Not baby person. Not baby human, or bothan, or even cathar, it’s the word you use for a little cute wobbly baby animal that meows before it opens its eyes. You wouldn’t call some random Mando kid likaya if we were talking in Mando’a, would you…?”

“I… guess not…” To the unfamiliar, it would look as though Crow were simply still grinning, but Ahuska knew the way it’s quality shifted that he was in fact frowning on the inside.

Ahuska took a slow breath, pinching the bridge of her snout. “And just the same, the bothese for ‘baby cat’ and ‘baby person’ are two totally different words. One translates to kitten, in basic, and the other to baby. Just baby. There’s nothing fancy, nothing cute about it, grown-ass men and women aren’t bucks and does or stallions or vixens, and I’d be willing to bet that there’s a good chunk of cathar out there who hate the way the better part of the galaxy pretends their own native words for their kids translate to ‘baby cat’---!!”

Despite her efforts to calm herself, Ahuska’s pitch and volume had rapidly increased, her gestures had grown more emphatic, and her attitude was positively simmering. Crow didn’t even need to tune into the beat of her heart to know he’d struck a hard nerve, but he wasn’t exactly sure how to handle it.

“Okay, okay,” he said quickly, lifting his hands in an effort to make it clear he was willing to concede. The crease of his forehead knit a little deeper. “I just would’ve thought, of all people, you might… find it kind of cute, at least? Like the way Nines…”

She shot him a look that made him shut up quick smart, then immediately made a visible effort to cool herself off.

“Let me… try and explain it another way,” she said, speaking slowly, her gaze focused inward. “One time when I was little, nine or ten years or something. I was on a trip with my buire, we had to spend the night in an Imperial settlement. We were checking in to some accommodation, just on the outskirts where it was quiet, and… you know buir’ika was a chadra-fan, right? Well, they had me and her go around to the back somewhere, and wait a while in another building. There was a nerf there, a couple of tauntauns, I think a big old varactyl even... one of the tauns had a fawn so that’s where all my attention was. I thought it was excellent, like, some special treat for me, buir’ika sure acted like it was. Anyway, it was a while later that nuvhu’buir… ah, that’s what I called Jinn, yeah? She came round to where we were with all our stuff, a few extra blankets and things, and we built ourselves a bed right there in the hay and spent the night there. I knew she was mad about something, but she never said why, at least not ever to me. I remember falling asleep hearing her and buir’ika talking really quietly together, and I was wondering why she was so upset. Didn’t make any sense to me at the time, since I thought it was… pretty much the best thing ever. I was too little to get it.”

Crow listened quietly, and when Ahuska paused, he didn’t say a word. He just watched her, offering his full attention, and waited for her to go on.

“They made us sleep in the damned stables. It was years later I looked back and realised that. They probably would’ve let nuvhu’buir stay up in a proper room, but she wouldn’t have anything to do with that. Stables, me and buir’ika, just because of our damn faces. So no. No, I don’t appreciate it when people joke about me going to a vet rather than a doctor, or offer me ‘treats’ for being a ‘good girl’. It’s not cute, it’s gross. And that goes hand in hand with asking if my species have litters, or if our babies are called foals, or if we go into heat. Ugh.” She made an ugly scowl at that. “Rule of thumb? If you wouldn’t ask a Mirialan the same question, it’s probably rude as hell to ask a Bothan. Or, y’know. Literally any other sapient species.”

Flushed, Ahuska found herself glancing off to the side, feeling oddly unburdened to have let it all out, and yet also heavy for having to unload to Crow. She knew he meant nothing by it, that of all the beings in the galaxy his intentions were utterly pure. She’d never forget the way he deflected those stuffy noblewomen on Alderaan that time.

She felt his hand envelope hers. “Did you want me to talk to Nines, and get her to let up a bit on the way she-?”

“Nayc,” Ahuska found the answer came easily, even if she couldn’t quite articulate why. “Not to me, anyway. I want to say it’s different, but it’s probably not, really. I dunno. Just maybe give her a poke if she starts on any other bothans with ‘Puppy’, yeah?” “It used to bother you a lot though, didn’t it?”

Ahuska stared out at nothing for a while.

“Yeah.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

“Still sorry.”

His chin came to rest over her head, and she closed her eyes as she let her face rest against the comforting curve of his neck.

“I’m sorry too. Not your fault the galaxy is the way it is. I’m just… a little wound up right now, I think. I’m nervous about this.” “Shhh,” he soothed gently, and she let her face fall against the hand he brought to her cheek. “You don’t need to make an excuse for yourself. I asked you something stupid. Can’t promise I won’t again in the future, but I’ll always be ready to listen to you. Mmkay?” Ahuska found herself nodding against his palm. “‘kay.”

“And I’ll be right there with you, meeting those other relatives of yours. And if they turn out to be bastards? I’ll find a totally not-xenophobic way to give them a piece of my mind.”

She made a little snort, and let her arms wrap around him. “And that’s why I love you.”

#dingoat writes #swtor fic #writing prompts #ty ty for asking!!#let's see if I can actually get through the whole lot haha #my inbox #both haunts and inspires #but wow here's some thoughts that have rolled around in my head for some long while #and I know I'm in the fandom minority with a lot of things when it comes to certain alien species #ah well

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yellow-faerie · 3 years

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I would very much like to hear about your head canons for Findis and co! (if you're not busy, no pressure!) have a great day :)

Oh yes! Would love to! Sorry it took so long - I have exams and I had to go back through all my many, many notes I have accumulated over the last six months of headcanons and things and the post kept getting bigger!

OK, so, while I sometimes go by other people as Findis’ wife/husband, my personal favourite is Rilyanixë and together they have four children: two daughters and two sons. Of these children, they have six grandchildren (3 granddaughters and 3 grandsons) and (as far as I know so far) no great-grandchildren.

(I’ll put the full post under the cut)

So Findis is the eldest daughter of Finwë and Indis called Laurinalma by her mother (meaning Golden Flower) and Lintafinwë by her father (meaning Soothing Finwë) (and maybe Finwë is a male name but I believe -wë is a gender neutral name ending and I like the idea of different families keeping a naming tradition of sorts). The name Findis is actually her Cilmessë.

She dislikes Tirion immensely because of their general attitude to remarriage and everything really.

I have this headcanon that the children of Finwë were all very close until they really got into society and rumours and other people’s opinions really tore them apart - Fëanor to Formenos or Aulë’s halls; Lalwen to the wilds where she spends most of her time with her Maia girlfriend/wife (they aren’t sure which); Fingolfin to the isolation of court; and Finarfin to Alqualondë.

And Findis goes to Valmar and the Vanyar.

She takes on a healers apprenticeship there, returning only a few times a year to her family home where tensions are rising between Fëanor and literally everyone else - not yet about anything important, more about really insignificant things. (I think this post sums up my thoughts on Fëanor and the way I see his relationships with his half-family quite well)

And for her graduation, she goes to the Tirion library before returning to Valmar (this is as much to cool down after arguing with Fëanor over something inconsequential as it is to find resources for her theory exam/essay/things) and meets Rilyanixë.

Rilyanixë (a name meaning Sparkling Ice) is the quiet, middle child of the chief archivist of Tirion Archive. His father is a Vanya hunter (because, really, Findis isn’t going to marry someone who isn’t at least a little Vanya) and his older sister takes after him. His younger sister went down to Alqualondë to learn sailing because she refuses to take after either of her parents, but that’s another story.

They meet because he too is looking to get away because his mother - a staunch supporter of the crown and it’s ability to make sound decisions (thus trusting Indis) - threw someone from the archive for making snide comments about the royal family and Rilyanixë rather disliked the raised voices. It is technically his day off but he came here to put books away because that’s what calms him.

So they meet and get on well: Rilyanixë quite likes this slightly scatter-brained healer and Findis likes the quiet librarian with a small smile and brown hair that shines gold when the light hits it just right.

She agrees to meet him again when she returns the books in a month or two when she comes back to town.

And they go out for coffee and learn that they are both half-Ñoldo, half-Vanya. And they sort-of fall into each other, meeting up in Valmar and in Tirion and eventually they are courting and then betrothed and then they are married, three years after first meeting.

(The marriage does cause tensions to rise between Rilyanixë and his Vanya family who see Findis as too Ñoldor and have issues with that so they don’t end up spending much time with them - there’s a reason Rilyanixë’s parents don’t live together anymore)

Now, Rilyanixë married into this family so he is as veritably crazy as all of they are - except no-one notices until he tells Fëanor that his latest creation was ‘passable, he supposes’ because Fëanor insulted Findis and you just don’t do that. Basically, Rilyanixë is very uncrazy unless provoked at which point he will just provoke whoever’s closest, however ill-advised that is (if that makes any sense).

Anyway, they get a house halfway between Tirion and Valmar (because they can’t be completely separate from politics but...they don’t want to be anywhere near it at the same time) and live fairly peacefully, with occasional siblings just appearing or nephews and nieces and the like (from Rilyanixë’s side too it should be noted).

Everyone is beginning to think that they are not going to have children as Arafinwë is already married and with a baby when Findis declares that she is pregnant. A year(ish) later, she gives birth to a girl that Findis calls Findecurë (Tress of Skill - weird name, but I was trying to come up with a translation for Finvain) and Rilyanixë calls Nofernë (Under Beech Tree). Of the two of them, Rilyanixë’s naming is actually a bit more prophetic than his wife’s (because I find it odd that only women have prophetic visions and while I still think that women are almost always the parent (if either parent does have prophetic name-giving), I thought that men must even just a little).

Before Fëanor pulls the sword and everything finally collapses in on itself, they have three more children. A boy who she calls Findelaurë (I’m using this variation on Glorfindel’s Quenya name for the sake of familial consistency) and who Rilyanixë calls Indiltur (Lily Lord). Another girl that Findis calls Fanyanel (Daughter of the Clouds) and Rilyanixë calls Iþilmolótë (Flower of Starlight - and apparently the Vanyar still used the letter thorn? I might be wrong). And finally another son that Findis calls Finróna (Hair of the East) and Rilyanixë calls Aþumolor (Good Companion in Dreams). In order of birth, their Sindarin names (and the names I shall be referring to them by) are Glorfindel, Finvain, Faniel and Finrun.

At the darkening, Glorfindel follows Turgon (with whom he is close), Faniel follows Glorfindel (with whom she is close), Finrun follows his elder siblings and the other Finwean babies (Galadriel, Argon and Ambarussa), and Finvain follows her siblings.

When her children and family leave, Findis disappears into the wilds (very good fic about this here) and Rilyanixë, with no family, returns to his mother’s house in Tirion.

So Glorfindel we all know goes to Gondolin and dies and gets re-embodied, etc. I would like to add a bit to his story to say I am a big Glorestor shipper and they definitely end up married and they adopt Lindir and his sister Lindis (because no-one can stop me).

As of Erestor, he’s an Avar in my mind who ends up with Gondolin because the Avari keep being pushed from their homes and he knows he would be safe there. (He does initially say he’s a Sindar to try and avoid the general distaste everyone seems to have for the Avari and only tells those he really trusts). Also, he would get on so well with Rilyanixë and it’s such a pity that they don’t meet until the fourth age.

Finvain leaves ME because her brothers and sisters are going, not from any particualr desire of hers to go. She is protective at heart - even if she seems very cold - and loves her brothers and sisters a lot. She does a lot of what she does only grudgingly and eventually swears off killing even orcs as her actions at Alqualondë haunt her that much (she acts as a behind the lines medical assistant due to her knowledge of plants and herbs and is killed because of her oath when the camp is overrun).

She loves gardening. If she’s sitting in a patch of flowers, she’s happy (she would really love hobbits if she had lived). She had a garden in her family home between Valmar and Tirion but when she left it got overgrown, despite Finrun’s best attempts to keep it cared for (he’s busy and the garden reminds him too painfully of his absent sister). She can’t keep a garden in ME (she’s a messenger for Fingolfin, moving around a lot) but she does have a habit of planting flowers in odd places wherever she travels.

She does fall in love, if that is what you would call it. She and Morwen (and I have this headcanon that Morwen and Húrin were really good friends who were both hella gay and both really wanted children so got married for that while agreeing that they could see other people) spend time together and it would have developed further if Finvain wasn’t always being called away and she hadn’t died at Nirnaeth.

Finvain holds guilt over her brother’s death as Finrun died at Alqualondë and Finvain saw him die, still confused as to what was actually going on; and Lalaith’s death (who she thought she could save with her medicine but who died anyway).

When she is re-embodied - before her sister but after both her brothers, she returns to her family home - left abandoned by her mother who had vanished soon after the Darkening; her father, who had returned to his mother in Tirion; and her brother, who was now living almost permanently on the outskirts of Alqualondë. She fixes it up the best she can and tends to her garden as slowly, one by one, her family returns.

Faniel is the sort of person who has everyone wrapped around her little finger but doesn’t seem to know. Hella strong, hella kind, hella oblivious - a summary of Faniel’s character.

Faniel and Ecthelion are both bi (when Ecthelion was younger, there was a time he and Glorfindel were courting before they decided they were better as friends). She and Ecthelion have three children: a son, Elemmakil; a daughter, Meleth; and a child, Enerdhil. Meleth ends up as Eärendil’s nurse and marries Elwing’s nurse Evranin which is all I really have for her and I have next to nothing for the other two. But they exist.

Anyway, Faniel fights with a spear and actually lives to escape to the havens but she dies in the Third Kinslaying.

She is the last of her siblings to be reborn and ends up being the one to initiate the search for their mother.

And finally, Finrun. He dies at Alqualondë when he and a few others go into the city to see what the confusion is all about and gets caught up in the crossfire before he can really tell what’s going on. With no blood on his hands and practically no trauma, he gets re-embodied within a few years but everything is really different: all his family has either gone to ME, gone and secluded themselves somewhere, are exceptionally busy or Finrun thinks they hate him. As someone who thrived off of the familial love of his family (being Aro/Ace, this is one of the main forms of love that he experiences), it’s a jarring experience to say the least and ends up with him being really, really lonely.

He decides to deal with this crippling loneliness by throwing himself into his work. The only family who really talks to him is Finarfin but they mainly talk about work and he’s like, if it makes him happy then it’ll make me happy. (It is making neither of them happy, they’re just avoiding the problem). So he ends up in Alqualondë working towards restoring relations. No-one here particularly likes him (Maglor’s wife, Cantasië, does occasionally come and keep him company to be honest to her).

He is here he meets Elwing, singing and miserable who he promptly adopts. (It is not only the Fëanorians with adopting people on the spot issues). The rest of the Teleri are a bit sceptical of this girl however much they like her and she’s uncomfortable in palace having lived nearly her whole life in near poverty despite being a princess. And Eärendil, when he appears, reminds him of his cousins due to being Turgon’s grandson. There’s a bit more nuance to it, I guess, but basically he sees these two children with no family anymore and as he knows how they feel, he decides to give them that family.

It’s at the end of the First Age that Finrun realises that the Valar intend to keep the Ñoldor in Mandos and he basically becomes the advocate for their release. In his house by the sea, he is slowly collecting war orphans who lost parents far too young and came to these shores to try to heal hurts of their souls and Finrun houses them and loves them and tries to get the Valar to release the families they have lost (not realising that in the process he has become part of that family and the loneliness he has been feeling is lessened somewhat - not gone completely because his family is a different entity entirely but lessened).

Eventually, he convinces them and one-by-one, his family and the others trapped in Mandos are released upon their healing, rather than being kept there forever.

(When Glorfindel is reborn, Finrun is not told and meets him on the docks by pure chance before he must go to Middle Earth. And before he can really get over the shock and bundle of emotions, Glorfindel is gone again. Finrun genuinely thinks that this was a hallucination for a long time.)

It is one sunny day soon after Glorfindel has returned to Valinor that Faniel gets them together to go after their mother, who, despite everyone coming back and a tentative happiness and peace beginning, has not returned from wherever she ran to. During their search, they get to catch up for the first time really since they were all reborn.

Findis has just sort of made camp in a cave, not hiding but decided that society sucked and she didn’t want to go back. Her children convince her otherwise and they return and everything is good and happy.

Umm, so yep, these are my vague thoughts on this family. I hope you liked it!

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spiders-hth-is-an-outlier · 3 years

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Possibly a big ask to get just out of the blue but: what are your Supernatural season opinions? Which one is your favorite? Least favorite? Did you watch long enough to have showrunner opinions? If yes, which showrunner is your favorite and which is your least favorite? If no, which season that you haven't seen most tempts you to get back in the Supernatural trenches? Answer exactly as many of these questions as you want to. Carry on.

You know, I am not sure how long this Ask has been sitting here, because my Tumblr notifications are borked -- I hope not long? If long, I apologize, I wasn't ignoring it on purpose!

Okay, so I have more than the average number of Supernatural opinions, probably, but I'll try to keep this to a dull roar! Inside Me There Are Two Wolves: one of them believes that only the original five seasons of Supernatural are worth defending in any way, the other really, really loves seasons 11 and 12. The Kripke Era had a lot of problems, particularly in its treatment of women as bodies without agency and its treatment of Black men as literal predators, but also for all its flaws, it had a kind of coherence and narrative drive that comes from being the product of a dude who obviously cared about it and had something to say. Taken on its own, seasons 1-5 are a brutal and compelling story about the traumas of being men in a universe that's been absolutely destroyed by its Fathers: on almost every level, it's about these abandoned and brutalized boys discovering that their entire reality is the product of an abandoning and brutalizing God, populated by authority figures who are universally demanding and arrogant, but also completely fucking useless. It's quite literally about Sam and Dean trying to hang onto their souls and their own agency when everyone around them wants them forced into shapes formed by conflicts that fell into place at the beginning of time. It's hard to remember, but back then even the Lucifer plotline was about that! It was about the damage fathers inflict on sons! Things were about things, in the Kripke era!

Then we get to the Gamble era, and. Woof. I actually -- don't hate 6 and 7? Like everything Sera Gamble touches, those two seasons are kinetic and memorable and funny and weird and hit some really, really great emotional beats. There are Some Problems, but Gamble was saddled with a pretty dire job, trying to find a way forward after everything about the series really had effectively wrapped up in Swan Song, and I think she did an okay job. People got mad at her for killing Castiel, but you know, damn, I give her this: that was a storyline. Like, this character who was fresh out of the cult he was raised in becoming disillusioned by how messy normal life is and deciding that maybe people need better authoritarianism instead -- the way he's driven to take too many risks by the fact that he's abandoned and desperate -- Crowley as a legitimately scary villain while still being charming af -- and the tragic resolution of Castiel being torn apart by both his hubris and his heroism. It's actually really good. I understand why people didn't want what Gamble was serving up -- and I'm able to like it because it was undone later, you know? -- but she really did commit to a full season of character arc and saw it all the way through to an earned ending, and I gotta respect that.

I genuinely hate seasons 8 and 9. I think everyone is a dick, particularly but not exclusively Dean, to the point where I just find it a bummer to watch. I mean, you get Benny, and I love Benny. You get, I dunno, bits and bobs of decent episodes, but overall they are very fucked up seasons in my opinion. So Carver era is on thin fucking ice with me, but I do think you start to get a rebound in season 10 with the Mark of Cain stuff, although I wish they'd managed to keep Cain around longer. All the really good Claire stuff starts happening, which is nice because Claire, but also because for once the show is really letting itself go back and deal with the mess these protagonists leave behind them constantly. Castiel and Claire have maybe the most interesting non-Winchester relationship on the show. Oh, and Rowena shows up around here too, right? Love her. So the back half of Carver, 10 and 11, are starting to really gain traction for me. The world is building outward, secondary characters are starting to be genuine characters in their own right, the politics of Heaven and Hell get a little richer and more interesting. The show is really starting to feel like it takes place in a universe, which is great because we love the Frigging Winchesters, but they shouldn't be the only thing going, right? We have 15 seasons to get through! Season 11 is basically bracketed by what are probably my two favorite Supernatural episodes: Baby and Don't Call Me Shurley. (I think I'm the world's only living Metatron fan; I fucking love that little dude.)

Dabb takes over in 12, and I really, really, genuinely love season 12. I fucking love Mary. There are so many episodes I adore -- Celebrating the Life of Asa Fox is a special favorite of mine, and I remain pissed off that the Banes twins never made it to recurring status, bluntly that feels wildly racist to me -- probably the best three-episode streak in the show is Lily Sunder Has Some Regrets to Regarding Dean to Stuck In the Middle (With You), three just almost perfect episodes. So I was poised to really love the Dabb era. I wanted to! My body was ready!

And I do really love the first chunk of season 13, the Widow Winchester arc. Obviously I'm a romantic, love that for me, but it's just also really good? The acting, the writing, the psychological complexity of Dean wanting Jack to be Bad so he has an outlet for his anger and Sam wanting Jack to be Good so he can retroactively parent himself and raise a Lucifer-tainted child who isn't crippled by self-loathing. Billie's great, and it looks like she's going to start being one of the major powers of the universe. Unfortunately -- with the occasional exception of this or that solid episode -- that's kind of the end of Pretty Good Supernatural. Season 13 kind of unravels; season 14 always feels like it's looking for itself (which is a bummer, because I wanted very much to care about Michael); season 15 is, idk. Idk about any of it, it's all pretty pointless. I feel bad complaining on some level, because the show's been on for like fourteen years at this point! It's kinda justified in feeling a little worn out. But the reality is that the later seasons systematically undo all the expansion that had excited me earlier -- the Wayward Sisters crew pretty much vanishes when the spinoff isn't picked up, Naomi and the angels stop doing anything, Crowley's gone, Mary's gone for much of it. We're just kind of futzing around with monsters who don't seem to matter (very much including Lucifer, who hasn't mattered in ages) and a lot of Jack, who. I try not to shit all over, because I know he's a popular character, but I find him just ungodly boring. Everything in the last two and a half season just feels like it's headed nowhere in particular, and also it bored me. The Empty deal is just sadness porn; it doesn't have any resonance or meaning in terms of Castiel's character, it's just him agreeing to die for his kid, which is okay, it means he's a loving dad, which he is, but there's no conflict there, ergo no real drama. It's just mean; it happens because it'll make us sad, and no other reason. Rowena is the only strong secondary character left, and her ending also doesn't feel particularly relevant to her, it's just a generic Sacrifice to Save the World. Everything just feels like they're autogenerating plotlines, rather than letting the actual needs and drives of the characters shape the narrative. So while I have this weird split personality with Carver where I either hate what he's doing or I love it, most of the Dabb era is just. There. It doesn't make me feel anything except kind of tired and embarrassed. Which is a bummer, because I have an inexplicable fondness for Dabb, probably just because of how much I love s12. I wanted to love his seasons! I did love his first season! I feel like maybe something happened when the CW rejected Wayward Sisters? I know that was kind of his darling, and it feels like maybe losing that kind of sucked the joy out of him, and he's kind of checked-out by the end. That's genuinely just my guess, however.

That's Professor Milo's Intro to Supernatural Studies, don't forget to fill out your course survey on the way out!

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dreaminpeaches · 3 years

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Humble Pie AU Headcount!

Aye, here's a cool concept I saw from @paraesthetics

and @maddgicalgirl two really cool creative peeps who posted about their AUs for their paracosms, Memento Amouri and Zombie Lane! I don't have as many as them and they're not as cool as any of those but we go:

Humble Pie - OG paracosm, Beau, a former high school bully and star football athlete returns to his home town after flunking college, coming home brings back both nostalgic and bitter memories of his past, his memories haunt him so bad that they manifest into a alter ego of himself called "Stye" who makes a deal with Beau that if he can get at least half of the people he bullied to forgive him, then Stye will leave Beau forever, but if Beau fails Beau has to leave forever (either by running away, isolating himself from others even his friends and family forever so he doesn't hurt anyone else never to be seen again or ........), at the same time he finds himself falling in love with the new dorky girl in town

Bodyswap AU- this isn't really an AU more like a weird dream Beau has after eating some weird cake his little sister made for him and he was too nice to say no (it had glitter in it), the events only take place for about a day, but its basically a Kimi No Nawa (Your Name) parody just with alot of more comedy where Beau and Bonnie swap bodies, Beau spends the day in Bonnie's body as an angry gremlin woman, and Bonnie spends the day in Beau's body as a pretty boy. They both struggle with each other's usual tasks Bonnie struggles to fix cars and Beau having to wear a maid outfit, and doing anime dances on the spot while having to playfully flirt with a bunch of nerds at Bonnie's maid cafe job. Bonnie in Beau's body has more heavy moments because she can see Stye and meets him for the first time, Stye knows its not Beau in his body so he can't have as much "fun" toying with him as usual, but kind of with the "help" of Stye Bonnie is able to hop through Beau's memories (mostly his childhood ones), a lot of the memories stop halfway through or are purposely faded because how heavy they weigh on Beau's mind. Devin is the one who tries to research and help Bonnie and Beau get back to each other's bodies because while most of Beau's family welcomes Beau's brighter attitude, Dev is the only one who knows something is up.

Genderbend AU- In this AU Fem! Beau was a star cheerleader as a Regina George type of bully, telling lies, spreading rumors, and subtle causing chaos throughout the school while being seen as a beloved queen at the same time, she too flunks out of college, and returns with regrets, but as where Beau takes on a more punk cowboy aesthetic, Fem! Beau adopts a more gothic rockabilly witch aesthetic, Fem ! Beau always had an interest in witches/witchcraft since she was little (because her dad would read her a bunch of fairy tales and Fem! Beau always found the witches to be the more interesting characters in the stories) but was often made fun for it to the point where she kept it a secret, but now returning to her hometown, Fem! Beau decides to fully embrace her interest she dyes her blonde hair black and starts to study witchcraft in an effort to combat the bad vibes she's been feeling. Whereas original Stye is more of an evil Jojo Stand, Fem! Stye is more along the lines of a mix of Tomie and Junko Enoshima, she still enjoys toying with Fem! Beau and doing a noblewoman's laugh, the deal between them is still the same. Whereas Beau's bio dad left him, Fem! Beau's bio mom left her family and Fem! Beau has a really close relationship with her Dad, Lou , who works at the town's library as a libarian, he remarries a nice woman who tries to spend time with Fem! Beau by doing traditional girly activities (a thing that reminds Fem! Beau too much of her past self, but she still tries to grin and bear it), Fem! Beau works part-time at her step mom's boutique helping customers pick outfits and find the perfect outfit for them. Dev is the same tho, but Fem! Dev is a bit more into comics than games but still basically the same nerd (like Futaba from Persona 5), Fem! Beau stilll gives Fem! Dev advice on school and boys (but kind of subtlely telling Fem! Dev that most guys are pigs anyways), Carrie who is now Carter in this is a very rowdy but loveable little boy who is always seen with a cape and a wooden sword that his big sis made for him in shop class, he carries that thing with him everywhere and will fight anyone who's mean to his sisters. Like Beau, Fem! Beau loves her siblings to death and likes spending time with them

Beau has an interest in wild west media, Fem! Beau is more interested in stuff like Grease, Rebel Without A Cause, Bewitched, and West Side Story.

Male! Bonnie is mostly the same like with Dev is more into comics than anime, he has a bigger interest in clowns than mascots and wants to show kids that not all clowns are scary, he works as a children entertainer at a local fun center (like a Chuck E Cheese or Discovery Center), whereas Bonnie was taught ballet at a young age, Male! Bonnie was taught to play the piano, but he enjoys playing instruments like the keyboard, talkboxes, and one of those things that look like a musical note with a face on it (idk what they are call), he's trying to make a one-man-band performance to go along with his performance as a clown.

Whereas Bonnie and Beau meet a lot to work on Bonnie's car, Male! Bonnie and Fem! Beau met up a lot because Carter really likes to play at the fun center where Bonnie works, and when Male! Bonnie first saw Fem! Beau, he thought she was Raven from Teen Titans.

Bonnie and Beau's relationship is like Beauty and Beast, while Fem! Beau and Male! Bonnie is more like Jessica and Rodger rabbit.

Resident Evil Village AU: This one is basically Beau is Ethan, and Carrie takes the place of Rose, and that's it! To be honest, I didn't think how everyone else would fit in this AU (an older Dev might be Chris?? maybe), I just like the idea of Beau going through a ton of crazy spooky stuff to save his little sister, and would totally sacrifice himself like Ethan did at the end if all the chips were down, and older Rose is what I think an older Carrie would look like

Walking Dead (the game) AU: Same thing as RE but Beau lives through all the seasons with both of his siblings, I just dont really dig the idea of Carrie ending Beau like how Clem had to do with Lee (that's too much man), but I could see Beau trying to teach Carrie to defend herself during the apocalypse as she gets older he tries to distance himself a bit letting her be more independent but still nearby if she gets into trouble, I could also see Dev joining another group for a bit because he doesn't enjoy his brother bossing him around so much, he ends up returning but I could see tensions raising between those two in this situation, they would end up meeting Bonnie along the way, Beau would find her a bit annoying at first but end up catching feelings for her. I could see them making their own settlement, and trying to find other lost individuals.

#paraportal #paracosm #paracosm: humble pie #para: beau #para: bonnie #para: devin #para: carrie #paracsoms Au

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gizkasparadise · 4 years

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cdrama rec/review: go ahead

KDRAMA AND CDRAMA MASTER LIST OF REVIEWS

Series: go ahead Episodes: 40 Genres: family, healing/melodrama, slice of life, romance Spoilers in the Rec: for the first 20% ish/set-up If You Like, You’ll Like: reply 1988, le coup de foudre, find yourself (same production company/main male actor), rain or shine/just between lovers, found family stories, meet again stories

Rank: 10/10** (see Drawbacks section)

PREMISE

widower hai chao and his 6 year old daughter jian jian live happily above his noodle restaurant despite the recent, tragic death of his wife. one day, dysfunction junction a married couple (he ping, a police officer, and chen ting, a real piece of work) move into the same building with their 7 year old son, ling xiao. immediately, jian jian attaches herself to ling xiao, who is unexpectedly grim for a small child.

because ling xiao’s family is less-than-healthily grieving the loss of their youngest child, ling xiao’s sister who died in a terrible accident. The Apartment of Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms eventually implodes, ending with chen ting abandoning her husband and son. he ping, suddenly a single father, and hai chao come to a friendly partnership that is clearly alluding to gay marriage where they co-raise both of their kids--hai chao as the primary caregiver, and he ping supporting them financially through his job as a policeman.

meanwhile, the neighborhood busybody is dead-set on getting hia chao remarried. eventually she introduces him to a divorced single mother, he mei, and her son zi qiu, who is ling xiao’s age. they sort of start to date, but it culminates in he mei skipping town and leaving zi qiu behind. hai chao, man with a heart of gold, informally adopts him and zi qiu becomes jianjian’s foster brother.

from there, the trio grow up happily and become inseparable. but once zi qiu and ling xiao graduate high school, the bullshit parade their respective childhood skeletons reappear in their lives. circumstances lead to the boys moving overseas, leaving jianjian and their fathers behind.

they reunite after 9 years, when the boys return to a home where they hope to pick things back up from where they left off. things are more complicated than that, as jianjian finds herself in a new life and surrounded by new people.

MAIN CHARACTERS

li jian jian

hai chao’s daughter and the only girl in the family. she attended the required short-hair-low-grades training program required of all cdrama youth female leads. super positive and outgoing, as well as the youngest of the three pseudo-siblings, jian jian grows up spoiled and over protected by her father and brothers, and as a result is completely devastated once her family falls apart. it’s so sad.

after the time skip, she’s an on-the-verge successful artist who makes woodcarvings, and exudes big art bro energy. inhales sugar like it’s nobody’s business. she inherited her father’s disease called caring too much, and it’s incurable!!

ling xiao

the eldest brother and resident fun police. ling xiao comes from a seriously toxic home that finally seems to improve once his mother leaves. but then she comes back. fucking great. introverted to the point of being withdrawn to anyone but his chosen family, ling xiao’s had to carry a lot of emotional weight that takes a larger and larger toll on him as the series progresses. please get this boy some therapy.

becomes a dentist because jian jian needs one. wears a lot of monochromatic outfits with low necklines because heavy angst but make it fashion. has been in love with jian jian since high school and is still carrying that torch 9 years later.

he zi qiu

the middle child who grows up in hai chao and jian jian’s home, and is her foster brother in all but paperwork. hotheaded, zi qiu and jian jian basically share two brain cells that ling xiao routinely takes from them for safekeeping. he spoils jian jian, sneaking her snacks and junk food and wants to become a pastry chef so he can open a sweet shop for her!!

my favorite character. just wants to be wanted 8( him and hai chao’s relationship is my favorite dynamic in the series. will sob while driving a pink moped. is too proud to beg

li hai chao (left) and ling he ping (right)

the greatest (hai chao) and okayest (he ping) dads in the world! noodle dad/hai chao has never done anything wrong in his life, ever, and we know this and we love him. he ping isn’t a bad person, but demonstrates pretty classic absentee parenting/isn’t as emotionally present in his son’s life as hai chao. hai chao is the heart of the family, and would do anything for his kids 8(

SOME SUPPORT CHARACTERS

tang can (left) and qiu ming yue (right)

jian jian’s #GirlGang and roommates. they, like literally everyone in this drama, have some severe mom issue hang-ups. tang can (left) is a former child actress who is struggling with her lack of success as an adult and gives well-meaning but absolutely terrible advice on the regular.

ming yue (right) is jian jian’s best friend since childhood and as an adult is trying to break free from her mother’s controlling nature--she’s also had a thing for ling xiao for the last 9 years. raises fish for symbolism purposes.

chen ting

ling xiao’s mom and certified garbage human. unable to cope with the death of her daughter that was her fault lbr, she abandons her family and disappears for ten years. she forces her way back into ling xiao’s life when he turns 18, where it’s revealed that she’s remarried and ling xiao has a younger half-sister chengzi (”little orange”). shit goes down, and soon ling xiao is forced to move back to singapore to serve as primary caregiver to both his mother who abandoned him and the half sister he barely knows.

emotionally abusive and basically hits every single square on the toxic parent bingo card. i just. i just hate her. even typing this out is making me mad.

he mei

zi qiu’s mother. after a few dates with hai chao, she ends up ditching her kid and disappearing for unknown reasons. is a slightly better parent than chen ting but that’s like saying some poison kills you slower. the show tries to bring us around on her but it didnt work for me.

SOME OTHERS

zhuang bei, zi qiu’s best friend growing up who i would like a lot less if he wasn’t played by the same actor who played my beloved dachuan

zheng shuran, jian jian’s first boyfriend and fellow artist who’s got a weird thing for women’s waists and pretentious artists’ statements

du juan, jian jian’s friend who co-owns their woodworking studio. has absolute trash taste in men

chengzi, ling xiao’s half-sister who can be a brat but dear god does she need to be protected/saved

**DRAWBACKS

so this is a weird one for me. what i didn’t like i really didn’t like, but what i loved i really loved. ultimately, the factors/uniqueness of this show and the loveability of the main characters outweighed the negatives and it’s one of my favorite dramas.

THAT SAID. i got some #thoughts on this one.

first, there are literally no positive mother figures in this show. not a damn one. they are all negligent or controlling at best or down right abusive at worst. no woman over 30 is portrayed positively and that’s a big No from me.

the last 10 eps have some pacing issues and focus on the wrong people. spending the remaining episodes focused on one of the most universally hated characters vs. the main family was a bad move

the show tried to redeem or make us sympathize with characters that were, to me, completely irredeemable. one case is worse than the other, but both of them were terrible people that deserved to be cut out of the main family’s lives.

REASONS TO WATCH

the main family. the characters are so wonderful and nuanced, and their dynamics with one another were amazing. you’ll fall in love with hai chao aka noodle dad and the trio. they go through so many trials but they still stick together and it’s ultimately a healing drama and i loved it very much.

the central romance was less in focus, but the pining is enough to make jane austen emerge from the grave. i loved the leads together, and while LOL ling xiao’s attachment to jian jian was not always healthy, they supported each other and it made me smile. i love me a tortured pining dude.

#Acting. everyone played their parts to perfection. the child actors in particular were so well-cast (esp baby zi qiu)

the soundtrack lmao. you watch the opening credits and know you’ll need to buckle up

idk it’s a very unique show, and i haven’t seen one like it. reply 1988 comes close, but it doesn’t tackle the same issues and it was all just very real and earnest.

Final Thoughts.

GOODNIGHT, GOOODBYYYYYE MY CHILDREEEEEEEN

#go ahead #song weilong #zhang xincheng #tan songyun #cdrama #gizka does kdrama

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alittlebitgoofy · 3 years

Text

if i had my way i would be yours - chapter two (taywhora)

i’m pretty proud of manaing to keep to the deadline (mostly i mean it just hit tuesday and i said late last week but it’s basically monday and been a lil over a week)

this chapter is fun, tayce and her journey with denail and internalised homophobia

ao3 link

“You cunt! Why’d you blue shell me!” A’whora huffed, placing her controller on the table before directing her attention to Tayce.

“You hit me first, you little hound! I swear, it was like four red shells!”

“Yeah, but you were ahead of me,” A’whora whined, her frown beginning to form into a pout as Tayce stared at her with a raised eyebrow. “You were first, not my fault.”

A’whora was cute when she was angry. Video games lit up her competitive streak more than anything, leading her to pout and whine whenever she was beaten. Her complaints were currently directed at Tayce, who’d narrowly beaten her in the last race. Bimini watched them with a bemused grin, the more tayce tried to calm her, the more A’whora pouted.

Tayce tried to hold back her amusement, though seeing A’whora turn away from her with an exaggerated huff made her break character, wrapping an arm around her shoulders with a laugh. The blonde squeaked as she was pulled in, quickly wrapping her arms around Tayce and leaning her head on her shoulder.

“You got lucky,” she murmured into Tayce’s chest, curling into her arms further around her waist as the taller girl ruffled her hair. “You’re so competitive, just accept you lost, you little idiot.” “Can you two stop flirting and move so we can do the next race?” Lawrence shook her head, turning to Ellie to mutter something into her ear. The taller woman snickered, catching the attention of the pair, quietly separating before going back to playing.

Tayce shook it off, remarks like that weren’t something that bothered her. Their relationship wasn’t like that, she didn’t like girls, and A’whora was like a sister to her.

So why did her heart beat faster at the blush on the blonde’s face, why did she need to watch her flusteredly trying to play it off and failing miserably?

She’d always thought A’whora was cute, anyone with eyes would have. Something about her drew Tayce in the moment they met; the way she pouted when anything slightly didn’t go her way, how she laughed at her own jokes, the way her eyes lit up when Tayce laughed at something she said, her dimples showing as she grinned.

She could admire the beauty of her friend without it meaning anything, right?

“Tayce! The game is starting!” Tayce snapped her attention back to a giggling A’whora, gesturing to the screen with a shake of her head.

Fuck, the game. Why did she agree to play again? Ellie had subbed out for Bimini, the five of them somehow making the four player game work. Tayce tried to shake her thoughts, focusing on beating A’whora, hearing her whine about Tayce cheating one more time, both of them knowing she was better at the game but not wanting to say it.

---

Tayce spent the rest of the time trying to act cool. No one seemed to notice anything off, too attentive on the game and the comments that the loser would always drop, denying a lack of skill and saying it was the game.

Bimini was too caught up texting their girlfriend to try and swap in to play, it slightly irked Tayce to see people happy in a relationship. Though she’d never say it, it stung knowing she lacked something to get that from anyone. Everything she tried failed, what was she lacking that everyone else seemed to have?

The more she pondered it she became away from the ongoing tension with Lawrence and Ellie. It was clear something was going to happen soon. The way their attention went to each other instantly.

They had each other, the idiots just didn’t realise it quite yet.

A’whora was the only one like her, though she never understood why. She was perfect, sweet, but not afraid to stand up for herself. She was funny, quick witted to a scary extent. She always knew the right thing to say to get Tayce bursting into laughter, though her insults would sting like nothing else, she always knew where to strike. Not too bad to turn people on her, but harsh enough to shake up the person it was directed at.

The blonde caught onto Tayce’s introspection, quietly moving to grab her hand and making the brunette jump in the process.

“You’re thinking too hard again, aren’t you?” A’whora titled her head as Tayce turned away, denial. Great.

“I’m fine, I'm just bored,” she muttered out a response, knowing neither of them believed it, but attempting it anyway. A’whora saw straight though her, grumbling at the lack of proper response before moving closer to her. Her arms found their way around her waist soon after and Tayce had to fight the dopey smile coming to her face from the affection.

“Don’t let them get to you, you’ll find the right person, it just takes time. I haven’t, have I? You’re not alone.” Her tone turned softer, whispering so only Tayce would hear her.

“Yeah, thanks Rory.” Tayce gave a small, genuine smile, wrapping her arms around her waist back to pull her into another hug with the attention off of them for the time being.

“I’m still better at mario kart than you, though,” Tayce giggled at the exaggerated pout on A’whora’s lips at the quip.

She knew she messed up the moment, but it felt too good to see A’whora giggling, her dimple showing enough to make anyone squeal in how adorable she was.

“We’ve won a similar amount of games! Don’t discount me there, lass!” Tayce just shrugged, holding back her laugh at the pout on A’whora’s face, turning her attention around them to see Bimini looking at them with a raised eyebrow, their eyes flickering back to their phone briefly before continuing to watch them in interest.

Ellie and Lawrence were thankfully too distracted in playfully insulting each other; it made A’whora and her look tame in comparison to how much they unwittingly flirted. At least it kept the attention off of them, Tayce gestured to whatever they were up to, and Bimini let out a laugh at the mess of them just before figuring out their feelings were mutual.

The games kept going, keeping the thoughts away for that much longer. She was acutely aware of how A’whora started to lean against her, grumbling when Tayce attempted to move. She huffed more at losses, not deflecting it with jokes as she had been an hour before. Everyone had started to quieten down now, A’whora just happened to be more grouchy than the others the more time passed.

It wound down as Bimini announced the last game, A’whora having given up playing a while ago to lean against Tayce and mindlessly scroll through her phone. Someone commented on her being suddenly antisocial, to which she just grumbled and turned to Tayce for defence. “She’s just grumpy cause she’s tired, don’t mind her,” Tayce quipped, getting a laugh from their friends as A’whora groaned next to her. “Oh fuck off, you’re supposed to stick up for me.” “You’re like a child who’s up past their bedtime,” Tayce deadpanned, A’whora rolling her eyes at the statement though still stayed leant against her roommate.

They’d made it home soon after. A'whora was scarily quiet, though Tayce knew it was because she’d spent too much time with people and exhausted herself mentally. She didn’t bother her, only sliding her hand over hers when they got into the uber to get home.

“Are you going to bed now?” Tayce questioned as they got in, A’whora turning to look at her quizzically before responding. “Not right now, I’m going to get into bed and go on my phone for a bit until I fall asleep.” She shrugged, voice laced with tiredness she wasn’t willing to admit to. “Alright, I’m going to play some games until I feel tired, don’t stay up too late. I know how pissy you get when you don’t sleep enough.” “I do not!” A’whora shook her head, laughing as Tayce shot her a look of shock at the denial. Tayce’s presence made her relax, not feeling the social exhaustion so much when she engaged in conversation. “You absolutely do, and don’t try to deny it. You better not be up by the time I go to bed.” “I doubt I will be, but never say never.”

They bid each other good night, Tayce turning to her room to hook up her xbox and play some more. It kept her brain occupied letting the previous thoughts wash away. She didn’t know what had come over her, but it was something she’d shake off soon enough. It took an hour of online playing for her to start to feel the fatigue, turning it off and stretching before going to move to her bed. She remembered A’whora, wondering if she was still awake. It was getting late, and if she wasn’t asleep by now then tomorrow would be a long day. Curiously, she went to check, poking her head round her door to see a sleeping A’whora with her phone on her chest.

Of course the idiot forgot to put it on charge. Tayce laughed silently, moving to put it on charge to avoid the complaints she’d hear the next morning. Tayce felt her eyes linger on her asleep roommate. She knew it was weird to look at her sleeping, but she looked so peaceful, curled up in her duvet with her face half buried in her pillows. She was adorable while awake, this felt like something she shouldn’t get to see, A’whora fully relaxed and cozy in her bed. The brunette left soon after, confused about the lingering image of how adorable A’whora was in her brain. The warmth in her chest prevailed as she started to fall asleep, something in her wishing she could hold A’whora as she slept. Be close to her when she was that relaxed and vulnerable.

She couldn’t think too hard on it before she was asleep, only hoping whatever was going on would pass within a few days.

She never looked at A’whora like that, why would she start now?

#tayce #a'whora #taywhora #rpdr fanfiction #if i had my way i would be yours #tayora #i hope we don't have to start using this tag pls

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phoebehalliwell · 3 years

Note

Also i remember that you did an essay on nextgen relationship to witchcraft ??

i would like an mini essay on how each next gen tap to their other half (whitelighter and cupid) ?🥰

[this is where i’d put the link to the next gen’s relationship to witchcraft IF I COULD FIND IT] rip lmao but yeah!! bc basically everyone in the next gen is a halfling so i feel like there’s really like A Lot here like witchlighters are already just like hella rare and then pj parker and peyton are very possibly the first cupitches to exist ever y’know what i bet i can find? my mini essay on cupids & whitelighters yeah boi so i think the primary distinction between whitelighters and cupids comes down to like. head vs heart. and i know whitelighters are like innately good people who want to help others through good deeds blah blah blah but there is an inherent Logic to the process. whereas cupids are just a lot more fuck around/find out. it’s the same thing with orbing vs. beaming orbing you think of a place and you’re there beaming you feel a place. if pj and melinda were to swap bodies neither of them would be able to teleport. so i think the way that they were raised/trained also impacts that a lot so let’s go chronological order and start with wyatt

so, full disclaimer here, i am going off my own writings here as there are some blanks left in canon (i.e. who has what powers) also i made leo a whitelighter again bc like. a) i wanted to b) melinda’s a witchlighter which would be objectively fucking weird if leo was not a whitelighter ik the comics had this whole think about ~latent whitelighter dna~ but like girl what. and then also c) and i’ve talked about paige and motherhood before but i really don’t think paige wants to whitelighter for her kids bc she doesn’t want to be viewed as like,, as business associate to them bc that’s weird it’s one thing for your brother in law to be your whitelighter it’s a whole new can of worms for your mom to be your whitelighter. on top of that paige is still a charmed one and a witch so like. she definitely does not have the time to be the entire halliwell family’s whitelighter. but leo’s right there just give him healing and orbing hell he loves being a whitelighter just reinstate him. like come on. amirite lads? it doesn’t matter if i’m right or not this is my story and i’m sticking 2 it. okay let’s rock n roll

wyatt powers are projection, orbing, orb shield, healing, telekinesis, telekinetic orbing and he is a half split mother’s a witch father’s a whitelighter. i mean i think wyatt was really definitely as like The Witchlighter like at magic school all that like yes paige is a witchlighter but paige did not go to magic school and grow up around a bunch of little witches i think teleportation powers are Insanely Rare for anyone who’s not a halfling so the fact that wyatt can just. orb. he can heal. like this is Insane. but unlike a dency type situation where like these powers are so rare they basically have to be self taught i think there are a good amount of whitelighters at magic school who can teach him how to master his skills there’s also paige and leo so like. he’s pretty much covered. that and the whole whitelighter thing just really does come naturally to him like he was doing all this batshit crazy stuff from the womb like he healed piper from the brink of death at like age two. wyatt’s whitelighter powers are a fuckin breeze. i also think wyatt sort of id’s a little more as a whitelighter than a witch just bc chris is like so witchy wyatt feels like okay i must be more whitelighter by default. like chris will go out demon hunting and wyatt just like. doesn’t really want to do that so wyatt think’s it’s because he’s just more of a whitelighter more of a pacifist by nature. it’s not really it’s more just like chris is fuckin crazy but it doesn’t really matter. i also think that since wyatt is one of the only people with healing when the cousins are in trouble they almost always go to him, which only sort of adds to the Whitelighter element. i also don’t think wyatt has had any charges yet bc like. he’s really young he’s like 22. but i think he definitely will i think that’s something he would want to have. i think the elders also have some slight reservations about giving him charges bc like. very high probability he will fall in love with them.

chris powers are telekinesis, telekinetic orbing, orbing. does not feel very whitelighter at all. i mean for starters, wyatt’s totally Stacked with whitelighter powers that he just seemed to immediately have mastery over chris not so much. and it’s also like. everyone in the family Expected wyatt to have healing and then literally no one expected that of chris. like he tried he read about it all that and whenever he would try the sisters would just be like it’s okay hey you know not everyone has healing healing it’s big like not everyone can master it paige couldn’t heal til she was like 30 it’s nbd so chris is like yeah :| okay :| but it kind of bothers him how it’s like. his family just knew he wouldn’t be able to do that. and beyond that i think chris really does have this desire to prove himself in the craft to prove he’s a strong, talented, capable witch (which he is) and that’s really where he directs his focus. the power he hones the most it telekinesis. orbing and tlk orbing kinda of take a back seat simply bc they just aren’t as strong of combative powers (however, paige let him in on the insider secret that you can orb hearts of demons so that’s p fuckin cool. leo like Freaked out when paige told him this because he’s just a kid!! he doesn’t need to be hearing all of that!!! and paige is like yeah, just a kid who fights demons, leo. he’s seen worse and chris just looks at leo like yeah i mean i have and leo’s like cool gonna go have another parenting crisis). basically while chris knows he is a witchlighter he very much does not feel like one. he identifies as a witch. full stop. (side note he does not know he was the time traveller who came back to fix the timeline and if he found out and found out that he convincingly posed as a whitelighter and people actually believed him i think he’d lose it laughing)

melinda powers are empathy, orbing, telekinesis, telekinetic orbing. i think melinda views her Main Power as empathy, i think melinda considers herself to be more of a pacifist. again, this is kind of in relation to chris, so it’s like considering yourself to be short bc your brother’s 6′5″, but like. melinda is short. and she is more of a pacifist. i think given her empathy which is technically a whitelighter power tho it is much power likely she inherited the power from her aunt phoebe, she’s not really like. a fighter or a powerhouse or anything i think she also inherited piper’s want of a normal life. in my writings melinda is actually a nursing student i mean she’s a freshman in college but like. she wants to be like a nurse or a doctor she hasn’t entirely figured out how that would work with her like. Witch Schedule. but she kind of doesn’t care?? like she has a full family of charmed ones. they can save the day by magical means; she can save them by mortal ones. she also just like as a fun fact with her empathy powers can diagnose things really well because she can just like. feel what other people are feeling. so yes i think she’s really more whitelighter than witch i think if people ever saw her out and about with her whitelighter (i gave her a new whitelighter that isn’t leo in canon explanation is the elders are kind of worried the halliwells are getting a bit too cliquey little bit too much of a feedback loop there and they don’t really have the best relationship to the elders so like. now that one of them has kind of broken off into her own path they’re like okay can we give her a new whitelighter. just to kind of make sure they don’t all hate us. out of canon explanation i think it’s more fun for melinda to have a whitelighter her age instead of constantly dragging her dad to davis). i also think melinda is the most likely out of any of the next gen to receive a charge, but again, this is like, way out bc she’d like. 18. i also think she would keep her whitelighter on speed dial bc i think she’d be Super Nervous about fucking shit up like so bad for the first couple while. like eventually she’d get the hang of it and be confident and capable in herself and her abilities but for the first bit she’d be like. so so so anxious like s1 piper need to have everything be perfect when it most definitely is not.

tamora powers are molecular combustion, healing, invisibility, psychic link with kat. so. tamora’s technically like only 1/4 whitelighter as neither of her parents are whitelighters, her maternal grandfather is a whitelighter and that’s it. so that’s why both her and kat are a little less whitelightery that the rest of the next gen tamora can’t even orb. which was like genuinely a shock as literally every other witchlighter in the family can orb, but she just straight up cannot. she can heal, though, and is the only one beside wyatt with that capability, so her whitelighteryness is still there. she just can’t orb. and then while molecular combustion as a power obviously came from piper, healing, invisibility, and even her psychic link with her twin are all very whitelighter-y. (side note, it is specifically the whitelighter part of the twins that give them this link just like how all whitelighters are linked to their charges, them being twins just like. amplifies it. it also allows kat to always be able to orb tamora to her side and sometimes orb her other places without ever seeing her but that bit still doesn’t work that great. so while part of it is a Twin Thing, it’s also a whitelighter thing, which is why like warren and sheridan do not share a psychic link. note pt.2 the girls powers were bound when they were kids bc they had i mean like p dangerous powers at least tam did but as established by the fact that paige could always orb despite having her powers bound, their whitelighter abilities were always active. kat could always orb, tamora could always heal, their psychic abilities stayed active.) and like, because of this it’s the same though i’m just leaving the parenthesis before i forget, tamora for the longest time had no offensive power the only thing she could do was heal. she was also kind of like the coward to kat’s fearlessness or even just like henry’s popularity. she’s the shyest out any of her siblings, a lot more reserved, she has anxiety, blah blah blah. so she never felt very witchy. she had her whitelighter power and her cowardice. and kat was off running around having a wild time and henry was reading about the most terrifying demons known to man shit that have clawed their way out of the underbelly of the earth and tam’s just like. like no?? stop??? oh my god??? and then around age 14 when the girls entered high school they unbound their powers and started to train them and tamora just really only felt more uncomfortable in her own skin bc like. molecular combustion, man. and piper would teach her like how to use her powers like okay you just really really angry and you throw out your hands like BAM and she blows up a chair and turns to tamora with that cute lil grin on her face like okay now you try and tamora just feels so out of place man. like her aunt piper is this fuckin powerhouse and this power is like. it’s just too much for her like she always somehow felt like there was some cosmic swap some mistake in the grand design where she and kat got mixed up somehow and she should have freezing and kat who’s bold and fun and brave and strong should be able to blow things up. because this isn’t her. this is too much for her, it’s too loud it’s too. strong. that being said, she’s always had a knack for it, which she doesn’t realize bc like. it’s a very rare power. but she was able to gain mastery over it faster than piper did in her day. so piper knows it’s not a cosmic mix up. she knows this is the power tamora was meant to have, and some day she’ll grow into it. it’ll just take time. but yeah. witchcraft is not so much tamora’s speed she doesn’t like. necessarily identify more with her whitelighter half (or fourth but whatever) but she does just. like she likes those powers more she feels more comfortable with them. i think if she were to body swap with kat she’d be perfectly fine at orbing too. in regards to charges she is Also 18 so again long way out i think she would be open to the idea but it would necessarily be something she’d like really really Want to do i think like her whole dynamic with peyton would really be her jumping off point for whitelightering but if she got someone who was a lot more just like. into making bad decisions i don’t think tam has the backbone yet to tell them off.

kat powers are molecular immobilization, orbing, omnilingualism, psychic link with kat. absolutely no on the whitelighter front. yeah she can orb and is omnilingual doesn’t even register those as whitelighter powers. considers herself a witch through and through. is not wise, is impulsive, is reckless, is a witch. would never take a charge. if she did, she’d go on all their adventures with them bc that’s just the type of person she is. doesn’t to the vague, gentle guiding of a whitelighter she is not vague. she is also very close with chris bc they have such similar ideologies. but yeah. she’s not a whitelighter.

pj powers are levitation, astral projection, beaming, sensing love we have exited whitelighter territory and entered cupid territory i think pj very much identifies as Cupid-Witch i think she is Thee hyphenate i think she wholeheartedly embraces both parts of her craft as the eldest of her charmed ones set she does feel the need to like Set a Good Example she measures out all her potions ingredients perfectly and mastered spell writing from an early age she treats the craft with respect. she doesn’t necessarily treat the cupid practice with respect that’s not quite the right word there’s no dignity it’s all fun. bc love is fun!! her and parker have a running betting pool on various relationships in school. melinda would sometimes put down money, now that peyton goes to school with them she’ll also place bets. henry jr also does this despite having zero magical abilities to sense anything he thinks that makes it more fun. but yeah. pj views herself as cupid. she loves giving relationships the little Push they need to blossom. people think it’s because she has an advice columnist for a mom and they like trust her bc like. she’s nice and her dad’s a relationship therapist her mom’s an advice columnist and almost everyone has at least one friend that pj has had a hand in their relationship so if she sets something up they’ll trust her. the school newspaper suggested that she actually start an advice column or a matchmaking thing but she turned it down bc like. she doesn’t do remote, y’know. her cupid powers are very personal, she needs to see it irl all the move parts before she makes a judgement call. but yes. very cupid. loves saying it, too. people are like wow you’re so good at relationships she’s like yeah i’m basically cupid lmao. parker boos every time she makes that joke.

parker powers are premonition, beaming, sensing love. so parker definitely considers herself a cupitch not just a witch but she doesn’t go as far pj just bc that’s not like her mo. pj does have a slightly higher eq than parker a bit more of a gentle touch they stay neck in neck in their betting pool because of parker’s premonition power however pj knows her sister can see the future and frequently engages to change the circumstances. parker does meddle as much as her sister. and like yeah parker is p witchy she does focus a lot on combat she did turn her cupid ring into an athame bc like. fuck yeah. but she isn’t like chris or kat where she’s like I Am A Witch Full Stop she really does see herself as a cupid she had yet to like. Set Up a relationship like pj does but she doesn’t consider herself any less cupid for that she is a cupid that is who she is. she’d just like. a tiny violent one.

peyton powers are telekinesis, beaming, sensing love. again kind of like parker where she still very much identifies as half cupid she just doesn’t do mayn cupid things. i mean she’s also like 14 so like give it time but yeah pj was ten and putting couples together on the playground like it was wild. and it’s not like parker where she doesn’t have the eq to do it like parker just straight up doesn’t know what to say to steer to people together she’d just be like hey u to r in love with each other so. have at it. like baby peyton could probably get it right in the very subtle classic cupid manner she’s just too shy. like she could not imagine just walking up to someone and talking to them lmao. especially not about love. and since the girls aren’t full cupid they don’t have temporal manipulation they can’t move through time nor can they slow it down to speak to people’s subconscious but if she could that’s what peyton would do. bc she does love love in the very true cupid sense she just like. like talking to people?? aaaaaa amirite lads.

#charmed #next gen #margaretsminiessays #wyatt halliwell #chris halliwell #melinda halliwell #tamora mitchell #kat mitchell #pj halliwell #parker halliwell #peyton halliwell #charmed next generation #💌

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