I think I have gone into Task Avoidance mode when it comes to the Pinterest Prompts. Not because I don't want to, but because I have flawed priorities and no discipline. Also in emotional turmoil because of Current Events and endless safety crisis meetings this week because of the political nature of the organization I do video game consultation for (apparently we have personal FBI contacts and dark web trackers and I am just..?)...so I needed something else to focus on. Made it through the week anyway so now I can rot in peace. I'm sorry everything is just in shambles right now.
Anyway...! Just two pieces (Sorry they're a bit dry! And hopefully they're coherent. I just finished at 2am) and also a random unfinished AU drabble from...probably upwards of four-ish years ago.
Devi should have known better than to expect to be left alone when outside of his room. The Institute people were always too nosy or too friendly, and though he had chosen to hang out in the backyard with the assumption that not many people frequented that area at night, it was just his luck that someone else seemed to have found it a suitable place to spend their night as well. He'd been smoking and leaning up against a tree near where the wall was lower so he could stare at the nearby taller buildings to observe people through the lit windows, but the soft sound of the backyard door opening and closing drew his gaze even though he'd tucked himself in the shadows, not wanting to be noticed. Instinctively, he lowered the joint to find a place to put it out before he paused at the familiar silhouette that had intruded in on his night.
"I can see you better than you can see me, you know." That familiar nonchalant voice made him groan inwardly, not particularly wanting company, but at least it meant he didn't have to quickly slink away to hide his habits. Instead, he just lifted the joint again to continue, watching as Piper made her way to him over the grass. "Not in your room, huh? I'm finally bothering you in a public space."
He just shrugged a little as if he didn't care, exhaling into the breeze and looking back at the buildings. Sometimes he didn't know what to say or how to act around even someone as low stakes as her, but at least his thoughts had calmed for the time being. It was a reprieve he needed at the moment.
When she paused near him, her gaze followed his own, her brow furrowing as she tried to spy what it was that he was looking at. "Real interesting stuff going on out there. Exciting...tall buildings," she said with a lift of her eyebrows before she held out a hand, beckoning for him to let her smoke as well. "Could use a break. You're not the only one trying to hide away out here."
He was used to her teasing remarks, but she seemed less intent on ragging him and he just gave her a halfhearted weary look before passing the joint over, watching as she took it between two fingers and started on it, not caring that it was burning close to her skin. "...I'm not 'hiding away'."
"Yeah? Sorry, guess it's normal to just sulk in the shadows at god-knows-what-time out in the backyard," she said, exhaling a breath of smoke to the side after she spoke. There was a tiredness in her posture, but that was no surprise, knowing he'd heard wolves a day or two prior while in the Towns. Full moons made for tense nights and even he knew the toll it took on those affected. "I want to sulk out here anyway, so it's not like I'm judging too much."
Though he didn't ask any follow-up questions, he did keep his attention on her discreetly, not knowing if she was going to elaborate. Conversation wasn't really something he'd been seeking, but maybe it would have helped take his mind off other matters. Piper was always good at rambling about random things and sometimes her focus on airing out everything that was relevant to her life made for better white noise than he could find alone.
"You ever mourn not ever getting the chance at a normal life?" She flicked the ash off the end of the joint before bringing it to her lips again, pausing as she took another drag. "We were both born into this world, so it's not like we ever got to know anything different. I was lucky my nanny growing up was Sighted. Otherwise probably would've been a lot worse for me." Scrunching her nose, she seemed to pretend to consider the buildings that Devi had been looking at. "It's not fair, dragging someone into this mess. Something that was kind of bound to fail from the start."
Not exactly the best start at taking his mind off things, but he didn't remark on that, trying to not get lost in his own thoughts. The sharp edges had been dulled for the time being though that didn't mean they were gone entirely. "Can't reveal this world unless it's unavoidable anyway."
"Yeah, I know. But it's not like we always consider the facts and the Law when dealing with, you know, feelings." She rolled her eyes before coughing into her elbow and waving smoke from her face, likely having gotten distracted and inhaled too fast. It was good that those habits hadn't become second nature for her; she likely did it just because it was fun. "You probably wouldn't get it, not that I'm blaming you for that."
His gaze wandered in avoidance, half-listening as Piper continued and half-trying to not let his thoughts go to her. It was exactly the thing he didn't want to ruminate on, having focused all of his efforts on making everything hazy enough to be able to sleep later or even just have a moment without that intense, overwhelming sense of impending doom, questioning in every lucid moment why he had so easily ruined the one good and constant thing he'd ever really had. He knew the answer, but even then he flinched away. The world could have been burning for all he cared and he would have only ever thought of her.
By the time he glanced over again, Piper was already snuffing out the joint on the tree before it could burn too close to her fingers. "Ugh, what a pain. I hate feeling like this and not knowing what to do about it," she said, looking as if she was going to flick the rest to the ground before she thought better of it, just keeping the roach pinched between her fingers instead. "Not that it's something new I'm thinking about. I've been banging my head against this wall for a while."
With a sigh, he decided he'd likely been quiet enough, not wanting to make her feel entirely ignored. "There's probably someone else here who'd have more input or something."
"Honestly, I've decided you're a good person to complain about relationship matters to because you're not just going to stand there and give advice." Piper laughed, a sound that was strangely bitter but real, pooling in the space between them like something tangible. "Advice is overrated anyway. Most people just want to hear themselves talk, pretending they've got their own lives figured out."
"...You like hearing yourself talk."
"Maybe I do. Anyway, you should try pretending like you have any part of your life figured out once in a while," she jabbed back, raising her eyebrows. "Seems like we're at an impasse."
It was a little painful to hear, thinking he'd almost fooled himself into thinking he had parts of life figured out with his responsibilities in the Basilias and finally smoothing things over with Naya, but sinking into a complicated mess of his own making was where he existed naturally. He didn't deserve respite. Still, trudging up every sour feeling in Piper's presence was hardly on his to-do list for the night, feeling as if her own strange mood as pierced through that fog he so desperately hid behind. The less he recognized himself, the better.
"I should probably...head back in," he said finally as if he had to excuse himself from a conversation he hadn't willingly become part of in the first place. He'd already straightened up, searching for the best way to slip away without hurting her feelings, not that he thought that was possible. She just always seemed so blasé about things. "Have...work tomorrow and all."
"Right." Piper pursed her lips. "Don't mean to scare you away from your spot."
"You're not-"
"I'm not blaming you. I get that I sprung up on you, which is probably some day-ruining event for someone like you or something." She was often casually callous in speech, though he'd quickly learned that she didn't usually mean anything of it. If anything, it was usually her way of being amusing or poking fun at him, having figured out that the only thing worse for Devi than actually being judged was simply making him imagine that he was being judged, never entirely able to prove or disprove whether or not his feelings could be substantiated.
But there was something else in her expression that he didn't recognize and he felt that familiar prickle of indecisive unease. Not knowing someone well meant fumbling through every assumption of their feelings and it didn't help that his own thoughts weren't exactly in their clearest form, but he knew that look she had enough to lean back against the tree instead as if he'd changed his mind by his own accord. He didn't feel like company. Still, it wasn't always about him, and though he wasn't really sure what he had to offer or what she wanted in the first place, it seemed like a better choice to make some sort of attempt at a friendly gesture. They didn't have to actually be friends for that.
She watched him from the side before she looked back at the high-rise buildings that peeked above the fence, studying the people that were faintly visible behind each window and curtain. "Thanks."
"Don't feel like going back inside yet anyway," he lied and pretended to do the same.
... ... ...
Asterie sits sidelong on the horse and though her hand remains firmly knotted in its mane, Maar doesn't rush their journey back. It is a rare, mundane moment for him, used to standing watch, leading his group through the lands, and tracking Unseelie movements, but here he is helping one of the village fae venture far enough out so she can find the right pigments for fabric she intends to dye. She clutches a swathe of vibrant flowers in her free hand, having wrapped them meticulously in twine to keep them neatly bundled. For a species that values fine things and creature comforts, sometimes it is refreshing to see something so simple treated as if it were precious.
"Not your usual noble quest, is it?" she remarks in gentle jest as they grow a little closer to the village. Maar hesitates. He's not used to being teased; his group knows his usual stoicism and doesn't bother with anything other than factual reports and sober conversation. "Will you report this when you return to your Court?"
"They won't be interested in such trivial-..." There's no point in finishing his comment when he sees her expression, understanding that she doesn't really expect a serious response. It's not that he can't understand banter, but it's so rare that he never expects it. He has not known playfulness for generations. "My work isn't noble. Importance is...relative."
Her eyes glimmer but she doesn't push him further, merely keeping her gaze on the flowers in thought before she cranes her head to see through the trees, trying to see how much further they have to go. It gives him a moment to watch Asterie. She has that familiar nymph-like quality to her face, but there's something else there too - a humanity that most wild-blooded rogue fae lack. He had noticed it first in her hair and eyes, remembering when he'd first seen those muted bronze, gold, and copper colours that aren't quite as vibrant as her sister's despite their subtle, familial similarities. That impurity is more obvious when she does magic. Though she practices, it remains immature in comparison, and whereas the nymph's abilities feel like fingers parsing through his thoughts, Asterie's are nudges he finds easy to brush aside.
With a soft inhale, she turns her attention back to him. "Well, whether it is because of your willingness to help or something else entirely...she trusts you, which I can't say of many," she says and he doesn't need her to explain, knowing who she is speaking of. "I find that reassuring, knowing how protective she is of our village. And it is good for her to have someone other than myself to converse with."
"She doesn't...speak," Maar states plainly, pausing to see if she'll explain. "Can't or won't?"
He's just met with an amused smile in return. "She speaks," she responds, giving a gentle laugh at the way he approaches such topics with indelicate confrontation. "Just not how you and I do. But we do many things differently than people from your Court. Do you hold us to the same standards?"
It isn't really the answer he's looking for, knowing that while the nymph has warmed up to him enough, it isn't something he wants to ask her directly. Perhaps it is something touchy, or perhaps it is nothing at all, but he doesn't want to risk provoking her discomfort. "Is all your blood so...odd?" he asks bluntly, either not caring enough to find a more gentle way to word it or not knowing how to voice his thoughts.
"Ah, you find us odd?"
He hesitates, not knowing if he's offended her. As unwieldy as he feels with polite conversation at times, he still doesn't mean to insult, but he has grown so used to his own group that sometimes he isn't sure what those outside of his circle may see as rude. "...Different, perhaps."
"We find you odd as well." There's that familiar, entertained glint in her eyes, though she merely inhales and closes her eyes when a breeze stirs through the trees, feeling it sift through their hair. Maar knows the love that Seelies often profess for the Faerie, but sometimes he thinks they merely love their territory. The wild fae have always revered the Faerie without ever feeling the need to conquer it. "How strange it is to find company with your kind, knowing how your hand errs towards a blade at every rustle in the trees. It is an antithesis to our own dedication to peace."
"And where has that dedication to peace gotten you?"
He's only met with contemplative silence and he regrets his remark, knowing it is perhaps too strong of a critique of their pacifism. They will always lead different lives and it isn't right for him to judge, though he feels unable to curb that instinct that has been instilled in him from youth. Perhaps there is merit in gentleness, but he has only ever seen how defenceless faeries are razed and how those unwilling to fight fire with fire are burned without a second thought. He has spent so much time fighting the Unseelie that he can only ever imagine their inevitable destruction. These are not a people he wishes to see destroyed.
Asterie is calm-tempered even when they finally reach the village and she doesn't wait for his assistance with dismounting the horse. When both of them are standing, she turns to the horse first to pat it gently, having overcome her original trepidation around the creature that had first inspired some wary hesitation. Finally, she turns back to him, the bundle of flowers tucked under her arm.
"Thank you for the escort, Maar," she says, meeting his eyes easily. Sometimes he envies that unflappable ease that seems so inherent to her nature. "It is rare to venture so far without the fear of those less merciful warriors."
His hand rests on his sword; he can't remember a time where it hadn't been in immediate reach. "There isn't-...I don't need...gratitude."
"I know." She doesn't move. At times, despite their differences, she has that same scrutinizing look that the nymph often has, knowing that it is often followed up with either a question or gentle sifting through his thoughts. But she knows her own stunted abilities cannot easily draw answers from him if he resists and he is more likely than not to do just that. "It is lucky to have those who will fight for my home and it is lucky for your group that we believe in peaceful coexistence. These are things that keep us aligned and that is a balance we dare not disturb. We do not need to be understood, but I hope you will try to regardless."
Without allowing for a response, she pulls away and he is wise enough to not pursue, well aware that he does not want his affection for them to become a liability or a distraction. She can never understand his endless pursuit to keep the Unseelie at bay for their sake, and he merely leads his horse to where one of his group members is keeping watch by the fringes of the village grounds. Once he spilled blood there to protect the nymph and her people, remembering when Unseelies had tracked them down and he'd had to confront the fact that it was his presence that put them in danger. The blood has since been churned into the soil, hiding where it had stained the grass, but his hand remains on his sword in wait anyway. Somehow, it feels heavier.
I was going to write a whole chapter of role swaps at some point but then I just ended up never following through. I've had this in my scraps doc for so long, though, and I'm sick of looking at it since I'm never going to finish it but I also don't have enough graveyard fic content for another one of those hahaha
role swap
"How...does it look?"
At first, it had seemed impossible for Ethos to change out of his usual Seelie attire and still retain the same sort of look, but Kellan's eye had managed to pick out something that suited him. Ethos' fingers delicately picked a bit of fuzz from the beige cashmere sweater before straightening the collar of the white button-up that was beneath it. He still wore his gold rings - a reminder of the person he was and he would never be again. Kellan's eyes flickered downwards. He was wearing black trousers and a pair of sneakers. It was so...casual and mundane compared to his preferred style, and yet Ethos made it look scholarly and proper. A laugh escaped him at the thought, earning a quick glance from Ethos as he tried to read him.
"I suppose I should have imagined that I wouldn't be suited for such things," Ethos conceded, though he did seem slightly self-conscious if one knew where to look.
"No-...I mean, it is...You look..." Giving him a sorry smile, Kellan rose from where he'd been sitting on Ethos' bed, which had been neatly made with the sheets tucked into themselves almost identically to how they'd been the previous night. "I'm just not used to seeing you dressed like this. It's a smart look."
"Mmm, I know it is smart to blend in when one can." Again, Ethos had misread his words and Kellan kicked himself inwardly for being so poor at communicating his thoughts. Seelie faeries were known for being strange with words, but that knowledge had not prepared him for the ways Ethos picked apart his phrases in a context irrelevant to Kellan's actual meaning.
"It's a good look. You look nice. That's what I mean." His words felt awkward, but it was important for him to speak plainly. Though no amount of faerie blood had ever helped make his words feel delicate and easy, Kellan had always hoped for some predetermined eloquence. It came at times, and yet never when it was really needed.
Ethos tilted his head slightly before offering a subtle nod. "...I see. Thank you."
"But I guess it is also smart to blend in. Seelie attire doesn't really fit with the type of clothing worn here, unfortunately," he said with some sympathy, knowing it was yet another layer of his identity that he'd needed to shed. It was strange for Kellan to think of being forced into another setting and another world so abruptly, but he had always felt that he teetered between two identities. The thought of being displaced wasn't hard to imagine.
Kellan had assumed that that was perhaps a reason why Ethos had gravitated towards him of all people. Catching the attention of a former Seelie and becoming friends with one had seemed like an impossibility, given their high standards and general impression to be picky conversationalists, but he'd thought that it was maybe his faerie blood that made him the most familiar thing at the Institute. Granted, he'd been socialized to favour his identity as a Shadowhunter, but that had never diminished his interest in the lands, language, and culture of those in the Faerie.
"Are you coming?" Ethos was paused in the door, having fixed his hair and moved to leave with an expectant look at Kellan. "I don't want to rush you."
"No, not at all. I mean, yes, I'm coming, but no, you're not rushing me." With a guilty smile for slipping so easily into his thoughts, Kellan joined him at the door so they could go into the hallway, making their way down together. "I know you're not entirely used to going out into the city, but I figure it's not as loud as bigger areas."
His hands fiddled discreetly, Faerie-made gold rings still adorning his fingers. "One must adapt to their surroundings. The prospect of being uncomfortable in a new setting doesn't faze me."
"That's more than I could say, if I was living away from the Institute," Kellan said honestly, his hand trailing along the side tables in the halls that held vases and a few other mismatched things from Grace's travels. She'd always had more of an opportunity to go abroad than he and Zach did, and always made sure to bring back some kitsch souvenir. "I might be okay if Zach and Grace came with me, but, well...I guess I get attached to places and things sometimes. Family always makes change easier, you know?"
Of course Ethos didn't, but it slipped his mind and tongue in the moment. The Seelie faerie had expressed time and time again that his ties were few and far between, even regarding blood, but it was a concept so hard to grasp and hang onto. If Grace and Zach were suddenly removed from his life, he didn't know where he'd be or what he'd become - there would be little that he would need to keep together.
Ethos seemed to notice his pensive silence, his gaze curious in a way that managed to escape being intrusive. Any normal person would have extended some comfort or careful questions, but he seemed content to extend the quiet moment, never rushing to fill the air with sound.
"I figured we could go to a place right next to the Institute. It's the only diner for a few miles," Kellan finally remarked, suddenly feeling a little self-conscious. "It's nothing like Seelie food, I know, but my siblings and I go there a lot to catch a quick bite. They didn't want to overwhelm you by coming today so it's just us."
"Ah, I should hope they don't feel the need to alter their usual schedule for the sake of my comfort," Ethos said, his voice painfully earnest in a way that almost suggested he was feeling like a nuisance. "I know my presence here must be a strange variable."
"Not at all. I like having you here. I mean-...We like having you here," Kellan replied with an embarrassed grin, trying to lighten the mood. Though Ethos had shown himself to never purposefully delve into somber moods, he was thoughtful and careful more often than not, as if afraid to make a mistake. "It's not often we have visitors here, and I...want to get to spend time together while we can. I don't know if you'll be moved anytime soon."
With a dip of his head that was more Seelie-like than anything, Ethos let his eyes flicker back to the end of the hall. "That is true. I have appreciated your role in helping me assimilate to this world. I know I must be a time-consuming task."
"It's not really a task. I'm happy to do it," he said quickly, giving a shake of his head.
(...Very short, but please have mercy. I've stared at this unfinished drabble for too long).