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imagine-loki · 3 years ago

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What About Trust, Chapter 6

TITLE: What About Trust CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter 6 AUTHOR: fanficshiddles ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine Loki owns a bookshop on Midgard. He had to do something there to try and avoid getting any attention. But he’s not fond of having customers, is rather grumpy and guarded. But then he meets a bright, bubbly and trusting young woman who doesn’t recognise him. To his dismay, he finds himself becoming rather fond of the mortal. RATING: M

Cleo made her way down the street to Loki’s shop, she was just about there when she saw a young couple running out of the store as fast as they could, almost tripping on their way out.

‘AND DON’T BOTHER COMING BACK!’ Loki roared at them as he stepped outside to make sure they left.

‘Well, that’s one way to get recurring customers.’ Cleo commented, raising an eyebrow at him.

Loki’s face instantly softened. ‘They were spilling coke on my books! They almost spilled all over the very first edition of The Tale of Peter Rabbit by Beatrix Potter! Do you know how much that is worth?’

Cleo’s eyes widened. ‘You have the original, like, the very first one ever? The Tale of Peter Rabbit?’

‘I do… And it was almost ruined by those imbeciles.’ He growled.

‘Can I see it?’

Loki huffed and folded his arms over his chest. ‘You’re not listening. It was almost ruined! Value, gone. Poof.’

‘Well we better check it over to make sure they definitely didn’t ruin it.’ Cleo said as she went past him into his shop.

He followed her in and she had already spotted said book on the table by the fire place. She sat down on his chair and pulled it in closer to the table, then carefully opened the book to the first page.

Loki knew he could trust her with his books. She was the only one he knew for certain wouldn’t wreck his prized possessions.

‘Oh wow, this is incredible. I can’t believe it’s the first one. Seriously, how do you get hold of these?’ She asked in awe as Loki wandered over and perched on the arm of the chair.

‘I have my ways… My adopted parents were rather, well off. I grew up surrounded by many of these books they’d managed to acquire over the many years.’ Loki said.

‘I wish my parents had been as into books or music. I mean, they did read and listen to music, but not to the extent that I do. I was always told off for living with my head in the clouds. My nose always stuck in a book or my headphones in to listen to music.’ Cleo admitted.

‘If it’s any consolation, my brother and father was the same. My brother especially was always mocking me for being a book worm. But there’s nothing wrong with it, nothing at all.’ Loki said softly, making her smile.

She looked back at the book and read through it, careful with every single page. When she finished, she closed it and gently put it back on the table. ‘Well, it looks fine to me. So I think it got away unscathed from the coke spilling.’ She smiled up at Loki.

‘Thank you for so graciously checking.’ He chuckled and grabbed the book to return it to its rightful place.

‘You’re welcome.’ She grinned and hopped up to her feet. ‘So, I was thinking.’

‘Uh oh, dangerous.’ Loki teased, smirking as he walked back over to her.

She narrowed her eyes at him. ‘Ha. Ha… I was thinking, if you’re not doing anything tomorrow night, perhaps you’d like to come along to a gig? My friend is in a band and they’re playing at Grand Central Pub.’

‘Hmm.’ Loki folded his arms over his chest. ‘I think I’m washing my hair tomorrow night.’

Cleo glared up at him and put her arms across her chest, too. ‘Don’t be such an ass. You might even enjoy yourself, where’s the harm in that?’

‘Being in a room full of sweaty strangers dancing and gyrating against one another is not my idea of a fun night.’ Loki drawled and wandered over to the nearest book shelf to tidy up a little, even though to Cleo it already looked tidy.

‘What is your idea of a fun night?’ Cleo queried and leaned against the book shelf next to him, getting in his way.

He scowled down at her. ‘A quiet night in with a good book and chocolate is all that I need.’

‘Well, it starts at seven, if you do change your mind. And it’s not a nightclub, it’s a pub. Table seats and a chilled atmosphere.’ Cleo shrugged and started backing away from him. ‘They’re a good band, you might just surprise yourself and enjoy it.’

‘I doubt that.’ Loki mumbled and concentrated on front of him.

Cleo rolled her eyes and shook her head. ‘Alright, your loss.’ She called to him as she headed out.

‘I look forward to hearing all about it the next time you come in to bug me and steal my chair.’ Loki said, his voice dripping with sarcasm, just before she headed out the door.

Loki sighed as he looked up at the pub on front of him. He couldn’t believe he had talked himself into going along.

It wasn’t like he had anything better to do anyway, but still.

If it had been anyone else but Cleo inviting him, he would’ve definitely refused. But the thought of spending more time with her was far too appealing, he couldn’t help himself. And she clearly wanted to spend more time with him, too. Since she had invited him, after all.

When he walked into the bar, he was indeed pleasantly surprised to find it was a relaxed atmosphere. It was busy, but not too busy. There was still room to move around without being pressed against other people.

‘Hey, Luke!’ Came a familiar voice.

He turned to the side and smiled when he saw Cleo at a small table at the back. She motioned him over and grinned when he approached, holding out a bottle of beer towards him.

Raising an eyebrow, he took the drink from her and sat down with her. ‘How did you know I would turn up?’

Cleo shrugged and took a swig of her own beer. ‘I wouldn’t say I knew you would, but I hoped you would. I figured if you weren’t here by ten past, then you wouldn’t turn up and I’d just go join my friends.’

‘I might’ve been fashionably late.’ He shrugged.

‘Nah, you certainly don’t seem to be the type to ever be late to something.’

Loki tilted his head slightly. ‘Why are you not joining your friends? Or having them join us? Where are they?’

‘They’re over there, near the bar.’ She pointed to a table of five people, two guys and three girls. ‘Our friend is the drummer of the band. I also guessed that if you did come along, you wouldn’t want to be subjected to conversing with my friends.’

Loki frowned. ‘We can join them if you want.’

‘Do you want to? Or do you want to stay here at this table?’ Cleo asked, smirking as she knew exactly what his answer would be.

‘It is cosier here…’ He said sheepishly.

Cleo laughed. ‘Don’t worry, I said I’d catch them for a quick catch up after the gig.’

Loki smiled and clinked his bottle with hers. He felt warmed that she had thought about what he would prefer, what he would be comfortable with. No one had really gone out of their way for him before or made a sacrifice to make him happier, no matter how little it was it meant a lot to him.

He ended up really enjoying the gig when it started, even bobbing his head a little in tune with the music. Cleo was moving around in her chair dancing and cheering plenty between songs.

Though Loki found himself looking at Cleo more often than at the band on stage. The way her eyes were sparkling in the light, she was such a cheerful and happy soul. It made Loki feel fuzzy inside whenever he looked at her and was with her.

He knew he was in deep trouble now.

After the gig was over, Cleo went to see her friends and Loki decided to go with her to meet them. He thought after all she did for him, he should at least make an effort and be polite.

Cleo was pleasantly surprised when Loki wasn’t like a bear with a sore head towards them. He greeted them all and commented to her friend in the band about how good the gig was.

‘Are you coming along to the party?’ One of her friends asked.

‘I have to work tomorrow, so should probably head home.’ Cleo said sadly.

‘If you give me five minutes, I’ll walk you home.’ One of her other friends offered, one of the guys. They were always wary about their female friends walking home alone in the dark. Even though it was well lit.

‘I’m heading home too, so I’ll make sure Cleo gets home safely.’ Loki jumped in.

‘Are you sure?’ Cleo asked.

‘Of course.’ Loki nodded with a smile.

After saying bye to her friends, Loki and Cleo headed out into the cool night together.

‘Don’t even say it.’ Loki drawled.

‘What? I didn’t say anything!’ Cleo said, but he had known from the way she skipped along the pavement that she had been about to say something.

‘I know you were about to.’ Loki narrowed his eyes at her.

She grinned and began walking backwards just ahead of him. ‘What, that I told you so?’

‘Yes. That.’ Loki rolled his eyes, making Cleo laugh.

‘Well, in my defence I did tell you so… But I am really glad that you enjoyed it.’ Cleo settled back walking next to him.

It wasn’t too far to Cleo’s place. She lived in a nice block of flats not too far from the city centre. But down a nice quiet residential street so it wasn’t too crazy.

Loki walked her up to the front door of the building.

‘Thank you for inviting me along tonight. It was a pleasant enough evening.’ Loki grinned.

‘I’m glad you decided it was more exciting than washing your hair.’ Cleo quipped, grinning back at him.

Loki chuckled and ran a hand through his hair. ‘Yeah, it turned out to be a little better than doing that.’

‘Because of course the company was exceptional.’ Cleo teased, mocking a bow.

‘It was indeed.’ Loki purred.

The both of them paused a moment, looking into one another’s eyes. Loki’s heart started pounding against his chest and so did Cleo’s. They both began to lean in closer, slowly moving towards one another. Loki glanced down at her lips, almost there…

Suddenly the front door swung open and a tenant from the building came bustling out, moving right through between Loki and Cleo. ‘Sorry, excuse me!’

Loki cleared his throat and Cleo stepped back a bit, feeling a little shy suddenly.

‘Uhm, well, thanks for walking me home, Luke. I really appreciate it.’ She smiled sweetly at him, her cheeks red.

Loki opened his mouth slightly for a moment, about to admit his real name. But he found he just couldn’t do it. Then she would know who he truly was, and all the bad things he’d done… He didn’t want to risk her hating him.

‘The pleasure was all mine, darling.’ He ended up saying charmingly.

He waited until Cleo was safely inside the building and out of sight, heading upstairs, before he headed for home… Muttering curses at himself under his breath the entire way.

#Loki #Lover #Submitted fic #submission #what about trust #chapter 6 #fanficshiddles

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dracox-serdriel · 1 year ago

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He's never loved Crowley for who he is? He's never fought for Crowley?

Maybe when you think "fighting for love" you believe that this is all about fighting external forces to protect the other person. I suppose if that's how you look at things, then, sure, you could try to argue that Aziraphale didn't fight for Crowley. (You would fail given the events of the first season, but you could try to argue it.)

That's a very - and there is really no other way to phrase this - cishet way of looking at things, though. Heteronormative is maybe the better term? Either will do. Approximately 2 minutes after writing this post I realize Aziraphale's story can also be a parallel for other taboo love stories, such as interracial or inter-religious relationships in certain corners of the world. So I'm changing my wording to "limited." That's a very limited way of looking at things.

See, sometimes fighting for love means fighting internal battles to allow yourself to accept that love. Sometimes fighting for love means burning away indoctrined ideas and self-hatred and self-reprimand so that you can admit that you love - and are loved - by this other person. It's an incredibly common theme when it comes to queer literature and media because so many of us were raised in societies where being queer "doesn't exist", is evil, or is unpalatteable or otherwise unacceptable. We are indoctrinated into thinking that being ourselves is all it will take to earn us a spot in Hell / be considered pure evil / be cast of our homes/society.

Aziraphale's story is very much about fighting internal forces to accept his love for Crowley and Crowley's love for him.

Aziraphale is terrified of Hell ("the bad guys") and of Falling. Yet, during the Job incident, he risks Falling to save Job's children. He doesn't do it because he believes he can dupe the people around him and get away with it; in fact, after the Job incident happens, Aziraphale literally stands around waiting for his punishment (being sent/taken to Hell) as he sees himself as a fallen angel. He's so certain of that that he's waiting around for some demon to pull him into Hell.

Then Crowley tells him, "Yeah, no. You're not a fallen angel. We're not doing that."

That moment is when Aziraphale first really questions his indoctrination in a significant manner. By his own morals and understanding of the universe, he is a Fallen Angel and should be in Hell because he lied to thwart the will of God. But Crowley refuses to acuse of him wrongdoing. He won't tell anyone about it. In that moment, Aziraphale is angel who has lied to thwart the will of God -- he's both an angel and (to his mind) a sinner, which is supposed to be impossible. You can't be both. ... can you?

That's such a strong parallel to being queer in a anti-queer society and REALLY realizing for the first time that being queer doesn't make you a bad person.

Having someone look at you and be like, "Oh, you're queer? Big deal." Let alone something like, "You're queer? That's great!" - Having someone do that for the first time? It's life changing. That person who shows you that other humans can KNOW YOU ARE QUEER and it has NO EFFECT on their opinion on you whatsover -- that's more than life changing... it's life changing in a very specific kind of way. I don't have the words to explain it ATM.

But, see, that's where it starts. When you've been raised to think that queer attraction is literally the result of demons whispering in your ear (or whatever effed up shit people indoctrinated you with), it doesn't go POOF and disappear from one positive experience. It can take years of internal struggle to undo all that damage. And even after years of healing, you can still struggle with the barest of acceptance for yourself.

And that's literally Aziraphale's story. Since the Job Incident, he has realized that what he had been taught about angels and demons and love was wrong. And he's been fighting an internal battle against those wrong things for millenia, making progress (which sadly is not linear) and not giving up.

Trust me, it's so easy to have people validate your queerness then fall back into "being queer is evil/bad" because you're in survival mode and the people in your life that you depend on can't accept queerness and would never accept you being queer.

As a martial artist, I can tell you with absolute authority that fighting external battles is far easier than the internal battles. Throwing punches against at the antagonist is one thing, undoing generational trauma and anti-queer indoctrination is another--and the latter is a far greater challenge.

Over the millenia, Aziraphale has been fighitng an internal battle. He's grown close to Crowley, working with him and trusting him, and he's had to fight for every inch of that. You don't see it visually happening, OP, because it's not a visual battle. But don't try to act like that shit isn't there, because Season 2 makes it impossible to deny.

Furthermore, when it comes to the external batles, Aziraphale has never really needed to fight for Crowley. Crowley is more clever than Aziraphale (most angels really) and has the ability to freeze time (something that nobody else in the GO universe seems capable of doing). He's capable and devious and uses his own judgement to navigate the "gray" of the world thousands of times more effecitvely than any other angel or demon, with the possible exception of the Metatron (but it's hard to say because we've seen so little of him).

Aziraphale has been on Earth for six thousand years, living with humans all that time, and yet, at times, is still wildly incapable of acting convincingly human (see his solo trip to Edinburgh and his attempts to be a "newspaper man"). Muriel was horrible at being human but it was literally her first day on Earth. Gabriel (in the first season) was likewise completely incapable of behaving like humans. He was more successful at "being human" when he had amnesia, which is quite a feat.

Meanwhile, Crowley navigates people like he's people. He teaches other demons how to be worldly/on earth. Does he ask the odd SUPER weird question? Yes. But compared to every single angel and demon we've seen, he's clearly the victor in the "actually knows what he's doing on earth" category.

Crowley has also admitted that he's taken credit for things that humans did (e.g., the Reign of Terror). He doesn't wind up in the middle of complicated schemes for "his side" because he doesn't need to lift a finger. Shax remarks on this phenomenon in Season 2 as well. Humans are way worse than demons when it comes to making evil situations. As such, Crowley has wound up in far fewer thorny situations that Aziraphale, who has done things like attempted to infiltrate a Nazi spy ring and failed, for the sake of "his side."

When Crowley does start getting up to something that can wind up getting him stuck in a thorny situation (namely, the robbery he was planning so he could steal Holy Water), Aziraphales does intervene to prevent it from happening (by bringing him Holy Water so Crowley doesn't have to steal it). That's not the same thing as blowing up a Church full of Nazis, but that is quite clearly Aziraphale fighting for Crowley in a visible way. And that was in the first season.

I'm sorry but if Neil Gaiman dares let Crowley just FORGIVE Aziraphale after this I'm going to do something. I'll lose my mind.

Aziraphale has never once fought for Crowley. He fought for Earth and Life and Love and the 'good in Crowley' he never (visually that is) has loved Crowley for who he is, he makes an effort all the time to remind Crowley that he is good and nice even when Crowley doesn't LIKE it or want him to.

Crowley has in some form accepted his Fall. Aziraphale hasn't, and won't and in all honesty they both are shit at communication and I can see Crowley moving on in a sense, not falling out of love, but eventually just knowing its better for himself to not fall back into what he's been doing for the last 6000 years of pining for Aziraphale, of waiting on someone who in the end might finally choose him, but it might be just too late, and not enough and if that's it, then I think I'd be happy if Crowley got closure, even if it's not what he originally wanted.

Neil Gaiman, make Aziraphale work for forgiveness, do not give it to him I'm begging you

(gonna add this, I know Aziraphale is in an awful predicament and a religious cult and crowley did stuff wrong too, I'm not forgetting any of that this is just my take on forgiveness and how the relationship might end up in go3, not bashing just my interpretation of a very toxic relationship for both people)

#aziraphale #crowley #good omens #good omens season 2 #meta #queer parallels

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embretheworld · 4 years ago

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I was bored so here’s some hc’s

I have a lot surprisingly so a lot of these are coming off the top of my head

-Laxus does not have good eyesight in the eye with a scar because that's where the lacrima was implanted. But he can still see out of it, it just gets blurry sometimes.

-If you had a lacrima implanted in you, there's gonna be a scar where it was implanted, and depending on what type of magic it is determine's the shape.

-Laxus's mother was born without magic and had the same thing happen to her but she was 16 when she had it implanted in her hand, she also had asked to have one and Laxus didn't.

-Laxus was born without magic thanks to his mother being born without magic too.

-When you get a lacrima implanted in you, depending on what type and how strong it is, depends on how sick you get. It's a counterbalance so people won't always get lacrima's implanted in them. The day it was implanted you get very sick as the body's reaction to an overwhelming influx of magic in your system, it happens every year in the same day it was implanted but the first time is the worst.

-"This is what I get for being emotionally slutty," Loke probably looking back on some kind of event.

-Loke with freckles!

-Loke sleeps when he's bored.

-Lucy suffers the worst writer's block ever and can't seem to ever get out of it no matter how hard she tries(I feel you girl).

-Plue really likes candy.

-Happy got Lucy a little frame that said "Life is better with cats" for her Birthday and despite how much Happy annoys her sometimes she keeps it on the desk she writes on and treasures it dearly.

-Do not let Erza play whack a mole or the games where you have to throw balls at clowns or vases you have to knock down to win a prize.

-Or let the dragon slayers play any driving game in general.

-Horror movies do not scare Aries, a lot of things do, but not horror movies.

-Mira really likes candles, but always gets them when they're on sale.

- Gray once got banned from a strip club after being mistaken for one of the strippers.

-Juvia could literally kill someone if she wanted to since our bodies are made of 60% of water but has no idea. She desires to learn more about blood magic if she so desires but hasn't.

-Levy wants to study rune magic but procrastination is her worst enemy, also people trying to attack the guild interrupting her every time she tries to cracks open a book to try and learn it. She's stopped trying to learn it in fear that if she tries someone will start attacking the guild again.

-Gajeel & Juvia and Gray & Loke are very underrated friendships that need more attention.

-Natsu chugged hot sauce and didn't even flinch. (A friend of mine did that and they scare me.)

-Lucy carries around a box of matches just in case Natsu wants a snack whenever they go on missions.( which is a lot of the time, a lot of her money has went into buying matches, she's had to go to plenty different stores to buy some because she's scared the clerk will think she's up to something and explaining it will only make her seem more suspicious.)

-Technically demon slayers are just exorcists but with more violence.

-In a human au Gray was an exorcist once.

But in normal Fairy Tail he takes side jobs on getting rid of demons from ordinary houses or other places which pays a lot.

-The wool Aries can make, can make really nice jackets. She's made jackets using it, but Loke stole it cause he likes comfy things in general.

-Loke actually needs his glasses, his glasses double as both sunglasses and normal glasses(someone I know someone who has the same type of glasses, I also wear glasses so.) due to being in Earthland too long, certain things started deteriorating like important sense's thankfully it wasn't on a major scale but on a longer one but it can't be fixed.

-Due to his eyesight deteriorating he has better hearing.

-Loke and Evergreen are nearsighted, Levy is farsighted.

-Ivan named Laxus because Laxus looked so much like his mother it only seemed fair.

-Laxus has an aunt who's his mom's sister. He talks to her through letters because she lives across the sea.

-"My little dragon," was a nickname that Laxus's mom gave him after he had gotten the dragon lacrima implanted in him against her wishes since if they were to do it, she wanted to do it when he was 16 like her but Ivan thought 8 was a much more appropriate age. (It was not). The only one who knows of this nickname for him is Makarov, his mom, his aunt, and his dad.

-His dad once used the name in a fight against him and he wanted to punch him so bad.

-If Mira were to swear she'd put sailors to shame.

-Erza has horrible road rage.

-I refuse to believe that Loke has two sets of ears, he does not have human ears and lion(cat ears?) ears at the same time just lion ears while in his celestial form and humans ones in his human form. He wears the piercing he used to wear on his human ears on his cat ears when in said celestial form, or outfit or whatever.

-The car ears(I'm calling them that now) are actual ears, you'd be surprised how many people try to pull on them in thinking that they aren't only to be pleasantly surprised that they in fact are. He likes to be pet behind them whenever they are there and he doesn't have regular human ears.

-He also despises chokers/collars with the very soul of his being. He might hiss at you if you bring one even close to him that's how much he hates them.

He doesn't even have a reason to he just hates them.

-Erza sometimes refers to her guildmates as "Feral children".

-Dragonslayers cannot whistle if their life depended on it.

-Loke knows French because most of his masters were in the French Court meaning it was mandatory for him to learn it. (I refuse to believe anyone with common sense would date him with that haircut he had in the human world, looked like something a 5-year-old would draw on a stick figure in an attempt to draw hair).

-Levy knows French, Arabic, and a few other languages.

-She fucks with people by talking to Loke in French and making them think that they're talking about that person why they aren't.

-Mira tried to learn French, she failed very badly since she kept forgetting the parts before the word and kept messing it up.

-The dragon slayers can purr when happy, growl when mad, and whimper when sad.

-The same thing applies to Loke but mostly because he's an overgrown cat.

-In order to date someone at the guild if you aren't in it you have to get Erza's blessing/asking her if it's alright since she's kinda the older sister and also the first one you wanna tell.

-Loke does not blow-dry his hair after he washes it because it just poof's up and there's no way to fix it other than to wash his hair again and look like a drowned cat for an hour or two. Though his hair is very soft after he washes it and it properly drys and isn't wet.

-Celestial spirits can dream, but their dreams consist of looking back on old memories from an outside viewpoint.

-Freed says "Let's have another round tonight" very unenthusiastically when drunk, just that sentence, no other sentence, just that one, only when he's drunk.

-Loke's good with finances along with fashion because one of his previous master, Valeria, pushed her financial work on him as a 'learning experience'.

-Loke was also offered a modeling job before and Lucy is super pissed since he of all people can get one but not her. (In the human au, he actual does modeling)

-If Mira and Loke were to team up it'd most like to be to help people in the guild get together.

-They would succeed.

-They both also like wine.

-Loke and Erza are bi, Mira is pan.

-Upon learning about this, Juvia considered Loke a love rival, be assured her that he was none and that he'd give her some advice to trying to date Gray because Gray and romance don't go well if she kept quiet about it.

-Gray ended up figuring it out and still holds it against him.

-Loke does not like being compared to a cat, he despises it so Gray as the best friend he is does exactly that.

-The two of them have blackmail on each other, and Gray often drags Loke into watching horror movies knowing he absolutely despises him with the very core of his being.

-Gajeel will fight anyone who hurts his best friend, Juvia.

Or anyone who hurts his guild but Juvia is different since she's been with him since they joined Fairy Tail.

Natsu once grabbed a pan straight out of the oven and horrified everyone in the room.

#fairy tail #fairy tail headcanons #headcanons #fairy tail laxus dreayer #fairy tail freed #fairy tail mirajane #fairy tail lucy heartfilia #fairy tail natsu dragneel #fairy tail gray fullbuster #fairy tail gajeel redfox #fairy tail juvia lockster #fairy tail aries #fairy tail loke #fairy tail evergreen

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nooneactuallyasked · 4 years ago

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Diner Gal - Reggie x Reader Part 4

Requested: I am my own requester, we have fun here

Word count: 2,513

Warnings: Not enough Reggie? (Does that count? It does now lol)

Summary: Julie and the Phantoms ( + Flynn ) go to a musical diner/café/restaurant for inspiration and hopefully a future gig but they end up meeting a very special waitress.

Note: Sorry this took so long to get out, it’s quite a bit longer so that’s why. Also, can I just thank and say hello to @i-should-be-writing-my-own-fic, all of your comments and reblogs are so sweet, you’re amazing! There will be more Reggie content coming up, this is a slow-burn, I hate when characters instantly fall in love, I feel like they need to make a connection first. Okay, enjoy!!!

Part 1 here

Part 2 here

Part 3 here

---

“Alex, stop pacing! Reggie- what- what are you doing?”

“Practicing my bass.”

“In mid-air…….without your bass?”

“It’s called an air bass, if I’m made out of air my bass can be too.”

“Okay, you do that.” Julie grabbed her keyboard stand, standing in the garage doorway, “Luke make your bandmates calm down, I have to take this out to the car.” Without an answer, Julie stumbled out of the garage towards where her dad and the car were waiting.

Luke scribbled in his notebook, without looking up, “You guys need to chill out, as long as we’re all together we’ll rock so hard there’s no way Cal will say no!” Reggie smiles and points a finger at him, “Plus, Y/N will be there, she’ll be able to convince Cal for us.” He adds as Julie jogs back in, “Okay we should be good to go as you guys can all poof in your instruments. You guys should get ready to leave.”

“Alright, but let me finish this line. I am in the zone.” Luke scribbled some final words on his notebook pages before looking up, “Alex, get off the runway, you’re gonna fall over the table or something.”

“But what if he says no and not even Y/N can convince him? I mean, what if- what if he has other bands in mind and just said yes to Y/N because she works there? What if we play and completely mess it up!?” Luke deadpans Alex as his bandmate starts shaking his hands up and down, his pacing increasing.

Luke rolls his eyes, standing up and holding Alex by his shoulders, “Chill, we’re gonna be fine. We’re gonna do amazing, like we usually do.”

“Guys, we need to go. Like, now. So, hurry up, move it!”

---

“So, Cal, my good buddy, my favourite boss, um...would it be alright, and remember that I’ve been a faithful worker for such a long time, would it be alright if I skipped every other audition apart from Julie and her band’s?” Y/N dragged out, her voice rising in pitch, trying to convince Cal with her best puppy eyes whilst he stared back at her with a deadpan expression.

“No, sit down. We have some performers to listen to.” She sighed and sat down in the chair next to him, putting her elbows on the desk in front of them, “I saw that coming…” she leaned her cheek against her palm as Cal chuckled at her, “And yet you always ask.”

“One day…one day I successfully skip this bullshit, mark my words.”

“Sure, sugar-pie. Now stop your grumbling, our first performer comes in 2 minutes.”

---

I want your love, and I want your revenge

You and me could write a bad romance

I want your love and all your lover’s revenge

You and me could write a bad romance

Oh oh oh oh oooh-

The poor girl’s voice broke. Y/N could see it coming, her vowel technique needed a bit more work but the girl was obviously passionate, this would crush her ego.

“You can stop now, we’ve heard enough. We’ll let you know.

Y/N winced, Cal could seem really cold at times however the warm smile he gave every performer at the end of his mantra definitely helped ease any hurt they may or may not feel.

“I can’t wait to perform here, I know you’ll make the best choice. I’ll see you on Friday.”

Maybe this wouldn’t crush her ego, after all, it seemed the thing was infinite. The girl walked out, her high heels clicking on the floor as Cal sighed. She knew why, when auditions were open to anyone who could arrive on time it was hard to find people who had that spark when performing. It doesn’t matter how good your voice is if you’re boring to watch then you might as well not show up.

Friday’s were important, they were a chance for anyone to get on stage and become an overnight sensation. But it got complicated when there were so many people that they had to pick and choose. That’s why they tried to get as many people as possible to perform, everyone deserved a chance to live out their dreams.

“Alright, I’ll grab our next victims. See you in a sec.” Y/N stood up, her chair scraping on the floor as Cal rolls his eyes, “Try to make it not sound like we’re about to murder everyone.” She chuckles, “Sure, I can try but I can’t promise it will happen.”

Y/N walked out of the door and into the ‘waiting area’, this happened every month and yet she never got used to how tedious it was. She picked up the waiting list and scanned the names, “Yulie and the- uh, the atoms? Anton's? Uh, come on through.” She put down the list and walked out, only hearing a chorus of male voices, “Again? Really?” “None of us are even called Anton!” and an awkward laugh from a female voice.

She sat back down in her chair and turned to Cal, “One Yulie and the Anton’s coming or up, or atoms, I’m not quite sure.” Cal started laughing, “Sounds fun, maybe we’ll get some science jokes.” Y/N started laughing too, “As long as it’s not physics I think I’ll be fine.”

The door opened up and four familiar faces walked in, all looking slightly sheepish. “Hi, sorry, it’s actually Julie and the Phantoms. Sorry if we’re late at all, we didn’t really know what time to come.” Cal raised an eyebrow and Y/N chuckled, “That would be my fault, I never got round to giving them a time. This is the band I was telling you about,” She turned to Julie, “Sorry, I completely forgot the name and the writing, no offence, didn’t particularly help me out.” Luke grimaced at her words as Julie started laughing, “Yeah, I’m thinking I’ll get someone else to sign us up to things in the future.”

Cal coughed to gain our attention, “As much as I love this friendliness we don’t have all day, we have all of your kit here, our guys brought it in earlier. What will you be playing for us today?”

“Oh, uh we’ll we playing a song called Edge of Great. We hope you like it.” Y/N smiled at Julie and Cal nodded, pen at the ready. She hoped for the life of her that they were actually good or Cal would never trust her judgement again.

Running from the past

Tripping on the now

What is lost can be found, it's obvious

And like a rubber ball

We come bouncing back

We all got a second act, inside of us

Julie sat at her keyboard, her finger dancing over the keys. She seemed lost in the music and it was obvious how passionate she was, it made even Cal, the ever poker-faced, break out in a small smile. Julie moves to the middle of the performing area, as the beat drops the boys appear causing Cal to double-take in surprise, Y/N snickers in response.

I believe

I believe that we're just one dream

Away from who we're meant to be

That we're standing on the edge of

Something big, something crazy

Our best days are yet unknown

That this moment is ours to own

Y/N nodded her head and tapped her feet to the rhythm, her smile grew wider and wider, Cal would never doubt her again and she got to listen to a killer band, today was looking up.

'Cause we're standing on the edge of great

(On the edge of great) Great

(On the edge of great)

'Cause we're standing on the edge of great

Luke kept sending glances toward Julie as she was dancing in between them all, the stage presence was amazing. They were definitely at the top of Y/N’s list of potential performers.

We all make mistakes

But they're just stepping stones

To take us where we wanna go

It's never straight, no

Sometimes we gotta lean

Lean on someone else

To get a little help

Until we find our way

Luke and Julie gravitate towards each other, their excited smiles growing soft and caring; the chemistry was definitely a plus, it was incredible to watch, like watching history unfold. The two share a microphone as they sing the chorus, Reggie and Alex share a look and Y/N smiles, not even Cal could find a fault in their performance.

I believe

I believe that we're just one dream

Away from who we're meant to be

That we're standing on the edge of

Something big, something crazy

Our best days are yet unknown

That this moment is ours to own

Y/N started dancing in her seat whilst Cal laughed. She then had a brilliant idea, she stood up and tried to pull Cal up to dance with her. While he refused and tried his best to stay down, his efforts were almost futile against his laughing and Y/N’s upward pull on him.

'Cause we're standing on the edge of great

(On the edge of great) Great

(On the edge of great)

'Cause we're standing on the edge of...

Luke went back to his mic and Julie came over to Y/N, she smiled brightly and they danced around together. They both felt like they had made a firm friend, the fun dance they shared confirmed that feeling, neither could have felt happier at that moment, they were lost in the music and everyone around could see it.

Shout, shout

C'mon and let it out, out

Don't gotta hide it

Let your colours blind their eyes

Be who you are no compromise

Just shout, shout

C'mon and let it out, out

What doesn't kill you makes you feel alive

Y/N moved back from Julie and sat back down, her smile still evident. Cal laughed at her and she pushed him with her shoulder. Julie turned to Luke as he moved toward her, the heart eyes were back.

Ooh-oh

I believe

I believe that we're just one dream

Away from who we're meant to be

That we're standing on the edge of great

Reggie and Alex joined Luke in singing the chorus as Julie continued her high belt which left Cal in slight shock and Y/N almost jumping and screaming in support and excitement.

Something big, something crazy

Our best days are yet unknown

That this moment is ours to own

Y/N smiled at Alex when he looked up, he beamed right back and continued singing and drumming with a passion that shined through everything else. She looked over to Reggie and sent a smile his way too. He winked at her and chuckled when she rolled her eyes playfully at him, though her smile widened in response.

'Cause we're standing on the edge of great

(On the edge of great) On the edge of great

(Great, on the edge of great) On the edge

(Great, on the edge of great)

'Cause we're standing on the edge of...

Julie went back to her keyboard and slipped her mic into the holder, Luke went over and looked her in the eyes as they sang to each other. The chemistry was off the charts!

Running from the past

Tripping on the now

What is lost can be found, it's obvious

When they finished and the boys disappeared Cal just sat there speechless, Y/N pushed his shoulder before giving them a standing ovation. “That was amazing!” She turned to Cal who was still seated, now thinking over what he just watched, “Oh come on, stand up, clap, stop pretending to be professional we both know you’re not! Book the band and we’ll have them for our last set, we’ll go out with a bang.” Cal still looked unsure, “I don’t know, what if-“ “Okay, no.” Y/N turned to Julie, “You’re our last performance on Friday. We have rehearsals every other day to check up on you, if you let me know where we can do it at a place of your choice. Your soundcheck will be at 2pm on Friday. Don’t miss it. Once again, you’re our closing act so you’re welcome to stay or go at any time between you soundcheck and your performance. We’ll let you know your performance time when we figure out the rest of the performance schedule. Thank you guys for coming, it was amazing, you’re definitely going places.”

Cal stared at her, his jaw slack in surprise, until he shook himself out of it and stood up, going to ask Y/N what she was doing, “What- you can’t just- we need to think about this.” She turned to him and deadpanned, “We both know you were gonna book them anyway, I’m doing you a favour, even you couldn’t help but smile.” Y/N turned back to the group, “Once again, thank you for coming. Ask the front desk for my info, give me a call by tomorrow to sort out a rehearsal time and space.”

Julie smiled widely, her chest starting to warm with a familiar jittery feeling of excitement, “Thank you! Thank you so much! I’ll definitely let you know as soon as I can.” Y/N laughed, “Don’t sweat it, someone needs to make decisions for Cal when he goes brain dead.”

“Hey! I’m still your boss!”

“I might as well be yours at this point” She shouted back without turning her head, causing a chuckle from Julie. She tried not to acknowledge the boys because if what they were saying was true, it seemed to be looking that way, she didn’t want to appear clinically insane to the public eye.

The boys themselves, however, didn’t really have much to add to the interaction. They were just standing there, slightly shocked by how assertive Y/N was when she was passionate about something. Reggie just stared at her, a slight smile spreading across his face.

“Okay, we still have some more performances to listen to but it was great meeting you and I guess you’re our final act now so welcome, whilst you’re with us you are our family so relax. As you can see, our dynamic isn’t the most professional so rules aren’t always completely followed to the letter.” Cal joined them, a smile back on his face. He put his hand on Y/N’s shoulder and they smiled at each other, “This one over here basically runs the place so go to her for anything and everything. I can’t wait to see your performance, good luck.” He turned and walked out into the ‘waiting area’ to find the next performer

“Well, it’s been a blast, I’ll see you next time.” Julie smiled at Y/N and then the boys poofed out, making Y/N jump and stare at the empty space left behind, “I’m not even going to ask…oh! Also, please tell leather boy to stop staring at me, or at least ask why?”

“Oh, sure, I’ll ask him what’s up. I’ll call you as soon as I can, see you soon.”

“Goodbyyyeee!”

---

Taglist:

@hereforthejatp

@slutforjjmaybank

@morganayennefertyrell

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twothumbsandnostakeincanon · 5 years ago

Note

Wingfic ideas! 3) Everyone is born with wings, but they are transparent and non-corporeal. They only become physical when you meet your soulmate. "You must be Stiles" and poof - both Peter and Stiles now have very real, very physical wings that can knock things over and get injured, but also teach them how to fly. (whump: Stiles memories of his parents grooming each others' wings, Scott hating Stiles over his soulmate, etc.)

Oooooooo I love this wing concept! I changed it a bit, making it touch-based, and also threw it into the stetopher blender 😁

It wasn’t the worst night of Stiles’ life. Maybe not even the second worst. Definitely at least third. Second or third worst night, probably.

But of all the ways for his first, and now likely only, date with Lydia to end, her getting chomped by a murder-crazy werewolf was definitely the worst. Or at least, that’s what he’d thought, until the werewolf touched him under the chin.

Stiles froze at the claw on his skin, heartbeat ratcheting up with fear even as he fought the instinct to slap his hand away and yell about personal space. Then he felt a weight at his back.

The Alpha suddenly lurched backward slightly too, jerking his hand away to reach behind himself. Stiles’ eyes widened when he saw a huge, pure white, feathery wing stretched out behind the werewolf. Frantically, he felt behind himself, grasping a much longer, more delicate wing; a sheer iridescent membrane stretched over a craquelure pattern. Something wasn’t right though, something-

He looked at the Alpha again.

At the stretched out wing. Singular, one wing.

Hand trembling, Stiles felt around the other side of his back.

Empty.

The two stared at each other for a moment.

“What the fuck,” Stiles breathed out.

The Alpha’s grip tightened on the feathers, and then he shoved them behind himself with a growl.

The wings, though world shattering for Stiles, barely put a hitch in Peter’s stride. He allowed Stiles to call an ambulance for Lydia, and then continued to do everything Stiles assumed a revenge obsessed werewolf would do anyway.

The only hesitation came when Peter offered him the bite.

“We’re meant for each other, Stiles. I could give this to you. You could be faster, and heal from nearly anything,” he purred out, bringing the wrist closer.

Stiles watched him move, listening to the words with his mouth open. Not because he was spellbound by the promises, but because as soon as Peter had touched his skin again, he’d felt the push of a soulbond. Warm and beating steadily. Nothing forceful or intrusive, but noticeable just the same.

“You feel it already, don’t you? Our bond. It could be stronger. It could be so much stronger, Stiles,” Peter continued, lips nearly pressed against his skin now.

Ice pierced through Stiles, anger suddenly flowing through him.

It could be so much stronger. As if the strength of a soulbond depended on him becoming a werewolf, rather than on dedication to a partner. As if his human parents hadn’t had the strongest soulbond Stiles had ever seen.

He would not be manipulated.

“No.”

Surprise flit across Peter’s face as Stiles yanked away his wrist, followed quickly by hurt before his expression turned to stone. An aching pang shot through Stiles at having caused it, but he refused to regret it.

“Fine,” Peter said. “I’ll find you after this. We have some things to discuss. In the meantime…”

Stiles watched his soulmate drive away, crushed keys at his feet and a single wing fluttering at his back.

__________

One exhausting run to the hospital later, the sheriff couldn’t seem to stop looking over Stiles’ shoulder- so much so that he wasn’t listening.

“Dad. Dad! This is important!” Stiles insisted.

“Sorry-” he apologized, still distracted. “Just- did that happen at the dance? Where’s the other one?”

Stiles ran a hand over his face.

“I feel like there are a few more important things happening right now,” he said, trying very hard not to yell. That finally got his dad’s attention. Not that it was any use to Stiles anyway. He still ended up alone in the hallway of the hospital, watching him walk away.

Of course, he wasn’t alone for very long.

There was a very good chance that if these hunters didn’t kill Jackson, then Stiles would. Assuming, of course, that they also didn’t kill Stiles. Something that seemed less likely as one of the goons tossed them both into an empty surgery, Chris Argent locking the door after he joined them.

Stiles scrambled a little against the gurney and Jackson, still unbalanced with the lopsided weight of one brand new wing hanging off his shoulder. He’d just barely gotten his feet under him when he felt a fist gather his shirt and yank him up, spinning him around and pinning him to the wall.

He had a moment to see Argent’s face before the man’s hand brushed the skin on Stiles’ neck, beginning to say “Let me ask you a ques-”

Before he could finish, he cut himself off with a gasp, one Stiles found himself echoing a second later.

The uneven weight on his back suddenly balanced. He could feel a second gossamer wing brushing his skin, fluttering against the wall.

Perhaps it was because he was younger. Perhaps it was because he’d already been through this once tonight. For whatever reason, Stiles recovered much more quickly than Chris.

He kneed Argent in the gut and yanked the man’s pinky off it’s plate. He scrambled away as soon as he was released, shuddering from the now-familiar feeling of a surging soulbond. With a bit of space between them, he could finally see that yes, Chris had a wing, a single wing, extended from his back, frantically flapping as the hunter stood there in shock. It was a matte black moth’s wing, buffeting the air and sending surgical equipment flying.

No one approached Stiles, but the goons remained in front of the locked door. There was still no escape, and Jackson was useless to the situation, just watching it play out with a gobsmacked expression.

Stiles silently snatched a scalpel that had fallen to the floor, keeping an eye on Chris as he examined the wing with a stunned look; keeping an eye on the confusion that crept across his face when he realized that there was just one wing.

“Where’s-”

“I really don’t think you want to hear the answer to that,” Stiles interrupted, voice low.

Chris clenched his jaw and straightened, staring at him, clearly considering his options.

“You-”

He stopped, running a hand over his face, briefly touching his wing again. He looked at the other hunters, and then Jackson.

“Get this one out of here,” he barked at the hunters. “Explain what will happen to him if he goes outside again tonight.”

They obeyed without question, and Stiles wondered exactly what kind of weight Chris’ name held.

As soon as the door was locked again behind them, Chris turned to look at him again with a sigh, shoulder slightly hunched.

“This is… not how I imagined this would happen. If it ever happened,” he said, shrugging the single wing again, a hint of bafflement to his expression. “But there are things happening tonight, Stiles. It’s important-”

“I know exactly what’s happening, and I’m not telling you where Scott is,” Stiles said flatly. “I’ve known you for all of five minutes, four of which you spent throwing me around.”

“You don’t understand, Stiles,” Chris grit out. “We hunters have to maintain the safety of humans like us. I swear to you, you’ll understand once I can teach you-”

“I’m sorry, what?” Stiles blurted out.

“It takes time to explain everything about the hunter’s code, but right now Scott is out there-”

“No no,” Stiles interrupted again. “Are you saying you expect me to become a hunter?” he asked, incredulous.

“Once you’re in the know as a human, it’s the only way to stay safe,” Chris said gravely.

“Oh fuck you,” Stiles said vehemently, turning away to stalk around the surgery. “Fuck both of you, I can’t believe I have two soulmates and both of them think they get to decide who I’m going to be!”

“Two-”

“I already know about your stupid code!” Stiles continued to rant, ignoring Chris as he stormed around, glaring at the walls. “A code that’s as good as worthless without anyone to check your actions!”

“Wait-”

“Absolutely fucking not, you’ve taken enough time already.” And with that, Stiles jammed the scalpel into the electrical box he’d just found, causing sparks to shower from the equipment above Chris. He flung himself out of the way, stumbling with the new weight of a single wing at his back, giving Stiles enough time to rush the door and fling the lock open.

“By the way, your sister? She doesn’t give a shit about your code. If you’re going to go find anyone tonight, it should be her.”

And Stiles was gone.

__________

“WAIT!” Stiles screamed, throwing himself out of the Porsche as Jackson prepared to throw the molotov cocktail.

Peter was a murderer, and a manipulator, but he was also Stiles’ soulmate, and he couldn’t just watch him die.

“Don’t! He’s my soulmate!” he yelled, hurrying around the car, not quite within arms-length of Peter’s hulking shifted form. The single wing extended behind him like a flag, the pure white of it making it look like a surrender when Stiles knew Peter would do anything but.

“He’s what?” two voices yelled at once.

Stiles looked from Scott to Chris, and decided Chris’ question held significantly more weight.

“Yeah,” Stiles confirmed. Chris’ mouth hung open for a moment.

“No,” he denied, shaking his head too, as if that would change the truth of it. Stiles tried to hold on to his patience, remembering that Chris had just discovered his sister was a murderous whack-job. A dead murderous whack-job. A dead murderous whack-job who had killed their soulmate’s entire family, and then been killed by said soulmate.

Christ.

Stiles noticed Peter shrinking slightly out of the corner of his eye, shifting back to a more human form as he calmed slightly. Derek growled near them.

“Stiles, get out of the way,” he spit out, claws curled toward Peter. Stiles scoffed.

“So you can kill him? I literally just told you he’s my soulmate. No.”

“Stiles.” Stiles startled at the rough voice coming from Peter. His face still held some of the shift, and his claws were at the ready. “Why do you have two wings?”

Stiles looked at Chris, at his very visible single black wing, and then back at Peter. The same denial living on Chris’ face grew on Peter’s.

“No,” he growled out, echoing Chris.

“Yes,” Stiles emphasized, beginning to lose patience. Peter lost slightly more of his Alpha shape, bringing a clawless hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose.

Everyone in the clearing relaxed a little.

Eventually, Peter straightened up and turned to Derek.

“Take your shot.”

“Oh for fucks-” Stiles couldn’t finish the sentence as Derek rushed around him, attacking Peter. Peter immediately threw him, taking the fight away from Stiles.

Of course Peter would rather give his nephew a chance to kill him than deal with having a hunter for a soulmate. Of course.

After a few minutes of crashing and snarls, Chris came to stand awkwardly next to Stiles, watching the fight as well.

“I can give you a ride,” he offered.

“Maybe after I know whether we’re going to need a funeral for our other soulmate,” Stiles said dismissively. There was another awkward beat of silence, and then-

“You know, it’s not a bad life, being a hunter.”

“It wouldn’t be a bad life being a werewolf either,” Stiles shot back. “That’s what Peter offered.” Stiles could see outrage on Chris’ face, but whatever he was going to say was cut off by a loud crack of bone breaking, and a whine as Derek finally submitted. Stiles clapped once and rubbed his hands together.

“Great! Congratulations on not dying Peter. Thanks for the offer of a ride, Chris. Fuck both of you, I’m leaving.”

And with that, Stiles once again got into the driver’s seat of Jackson’s Porsche and tore out of there.

Peter and Chris stared after him for a moment before glancing at each other, and then immediately looking away.

The clearing was completely silent, until-

“Can… can I get a ride?” asked Jackson.

__________

“I am giving you space.”

Stiles looked up from his homework to see his dad standing in the doorway.

“O… kay?” Stiles said, confused. John pointed at Stiles’ wings.

“I am giving you the space, and you can tell me about your soulmates when you are comfortable,” John emphasized. Stiles squinted.

“Are you reciting a parenting book at me right now?”

“It’s a good parenting book,” John protested, and then sighed. “I just… I didn’t get it at the time, but I just want you to know that if you have two soulmates… that’s okay.”

“I know it’s okay,” Stiles said, eyes narrowed.

“Then why won’t you tell me about them?” John asked, a hint of a whine in his voice. It was Stiles’ turn to sigh.

“It’s not just that there’s two of them. They’re- it’s complicated. And I really, really don’t think they’re ready. For any of it. Honestly, I’m not sure I am either. So yeah. Space is probably the best policy right now.”

John pursed his lips and then nodded.

“I’m off to work then. I’ll see you in the morning, alright kiddo?”

“Yeah Dad. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

Stiles listened to his dad clamber down the stairs and lock the door behind himself. The rumble of the cruiser rose up through his propped open window, and he paused to try adjusting his wings as the sound of the car faded away.

He was getting better at moving them around. He felt more like a stumbling toddler than a newborn with no muscle control. His back barely ached at all anymore, and he spared another thought of gratitude that his wings were light.

The iridescence still caught his eye in a distracting way, though, and even worse when they refracted light.

“They’re beautiful.”

Stiles startled, nearly flailing out of his chair.

“What the fuck Peter!” he hissed. “Haven’t you heard of a door?”

Peter casually stepped down from the window ledge, inviting himself into Stiles’ room.

“Why would I use a door when your window was already open?” he asked, wandering over to Stiles’ bookshelf to look at the titles, and giving Stiles a clear view of his back.

“You still haven’t talked to Chris,” Stiles said flatly, eyeing the lonely wing tucked into his back.

“I have no reason to talk to the hunter,” Peter said, turning to look at Stiles. “Just because he’s your other soulmate doesn’t mean he’s mine.”

Stiles stared at him in disbelief.

“You’re kidding me right?”

“No fate in the universe could possibly be so cruel to give me an Argent for a soulmate,” Peter spat out before smoothing his expression. “You on the other hand, have proven yourself to be clever and capable. Have you given any more thought to my offer?”

“Your ‘offer’? The one you tried to con me into by insinuating there’s some kind of magical extra special bonus soulbond that comes with being a werewolf?” Stiles clarified sharply.

Peter smiled unrepentantly.

“Yes, that one.”

Stiles stared at him, unimpressed.

“You would make a wonderful wolf, sweetheart.” Peter approached him silently, laying a light hand on his wing. Stiles had to fight back a shiver as their potential bond surged again.

“Feel my sincerity,” Peter urged. “You would be so-”

“Back away from him, Hale.”

Peter and Stiles’ attention snapped to the doorway, Christopher standing there rigidly, fists clenched.

Stiles flicked his wing away from the distraction of Peter’s touch, and said, “Okay, I know that door was locked.”

Chris just tucked a lockpick back into his pocket.

“I heard Hale in here. I had to make sure you were safe.”

Stiles rolled his eyes.

“I’m fine. I’m not sure about you two though. I can’t believe you haven’t even touched yet.”

Chris looked at Peter with daggers in his eyes.

“He killed my sister-”

“She killed my entire family-” Peter hissed back.

“Yeah, I know,” Stiles interrupted, “but you two can’t even touch each other for a second to confirm whether or not you’re soulmates. Less than a second! A millisecond! Even if you decide you hate each other and can’t stand to be soulbonded, don’t you at least want your other god damn wing?!” He folded his arms and glared at them.

The weight of his glare was a heavy thing, as Peter and Chris quickly came to realize. Heavier and heavier with every second, in fact. And he did have a point.

Inch by inch, they moved closer to each other, both reaching out a single pointer finger slowly.

Too slow for Stiles, apparently.

“Is this a re-enactment of ‘The Creation of Adam’? Is that why you aren’t touching? Is that what’s happening here?”

Peter and Chris both shot irritated looks at Stiles’ raised eyebrows, and finally surged forward to touch each other.

Just for a millisecond. There and apart.

Stiles was right. That’s all it took.

Peter lurched back slightly as the weight on his other shoulder balanced out, Chris doing the same but with more fluttering.

As soon as they regained their balance, they looked at each other in shock.

Stiles smiled.

“Thank you,” he said, voice sincere. There was a beat of silence, and then- “Now get out of my room, I have homework.”

They stared back at Stiles, shock and surprise still evident on their faces. Stiles waited a moment before realizing that he was going to have to clarify.

“I’m sixteen, dudes. You’re both in your thirties. Now that you know you’re soulmates, sort out your shit. I know there’s a lot there, but whatever you need to do, you have two years to do it. I’m not bonding with anyone before I even have a high school degree.”

Stiles turned around and focused on his homework again. He threw up two fingers behind himself in farewell.

“Bye. Text me.”

#amberlilly #I've lost edits to this twice lmao I'm so angry 🙃#stetopher #wingfic #featheruary #tumblr fic and kinda fic #this blog needs a tag for my bullshit #3k words #steter #stargent #petopher

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harmonyandco · 4 years ago

Text

Death eaters were dying. They weren’t being spent on his goals, they were having very suspicious “accidents.” “Catastrophes.” Apparently being “randomly” targeted in “violent acts.”

In short, the self styled dark lord was losing his minions to activities that his minions should be performing. Not falling victim to. Worse, he had no idea who or what was getting them. Possible leads vaporized like smoke in the dark of a new moon. On the surface, the war was going extremely well for his side. He outright controlled the ministry, Severus had controlled Hogwarts, now the Carrows did...but they suspected McGonagall held the wards. When Severus died she also disappeared. One of their spies had tailed her to the seventh floor where she vanished and hadn’t been seen since. But the school itself wasn’t cooperating. The daily prophet and WWN were mere mouthpieces for he and his minions...and yet a full 50% of his marked forces were either dead or had vanished. Not ran, he would know thorough their marks. They were gone. He fully suspected they were dead, but had no evidence beyond suspicions. When he first noticed his agents were going quiet he thought that the Order and/or Potter had gotten lucky a few times. But as his losses mounted at an alarming rate he knew there was a new player on the field. One he didn’t even have a name of. Death eaters were afraid to walk down Knockturn Alley! They owned that alley for longer than their movement had existed, and somehow, now, if they were in the open their heads may explode without an apparent curse having been fired. Fenrir went that way when he thought to make an example of a child that had ventured too near the Diagon Alley entrance. Others were found dead in the shadows without a mark upon them beyond a look on their face of surprise or shock. Initially the killing curse was suspected but St Mungos said they, to a man, had had their necks expertly broken. They weren’t all even in their Death Eater garb. The Parkinson matriarch was last seen in an evening gown for a ministry gala. Poof. Gone. Severus was killed in an apparent dragon attack through the window of the headmasters office. But nobody saw or even heard a dragon. But what else could burn that hot? He had to find out what was going on. And soon. The true scope of the losses only he knew but it was getting hard to conceal. Only their fear of his wrath has kept them from asking too many questions.

It reminded him of events from September of ‘79 to his unfortunate sabbatical in October of ‘81. By all appearances the war was going well then too. The light thought that they were on the ropes. But his forces were being worn far too thin by eerily similar occurrences. He had to track this menace down.

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

From her “nest” in a bell tower 2000 yards from Knockturn Alley, Emma Granger quietly cleaned her rifle and contemplated the last year. Her husband Dan was quietly making his way back after dispatching his last two “appointments” for the day. Their having “awoken” from an unscheduled vacation in Melbourne has thrown both of them for a loop. For all their Spec-ops training they were both blindsided by their own daughter erasing their memory. They hadn’t seen it coming at all. Apparently they’d been living the life of a pair of mild-mannered dentists for a couple of months already when a routine medical exam to her brought it all rushing back when the couple was asked about her internal scarring and if she had lost the baby. The 17 year old girl that they’d forgotten they had. Now, they had no idea where she was, but within 24 hours of recovering their memories they were back in country and were put in touch with the M division of the Organization and soon were looking at case files that both thought they’d put to rest 18 years ago. Three times this Riddle guy had nearly killed them both. Three times they’d defied the odds. The first they both believed to be random chance. After that they were on his radar and he didn’t like to miss. The last time had nearly caused Emma to miscarry, giving birth to Hermione nearly a week and a half early instead of the end of September. They started this campaign of eradicating him and his followers then until Halloween of ‘81 when Emma managed to put a bullet through his head as he stood in a nursery in Wales. She couldn’t get a shot before he’d killed two more victims that night. The only strange thing was the green flash she’d seen in her scope as her bullet made the journey. Seconds later his heat signature was just gone. Not on the floor and cooling as the adults were. Gone. She and Dan had been read in on the magical world that night. But since it wasn’t their area, they didn’t work it. Until now. Their daughter and future son-in-law Harry were right in the middle of this mess and both had disappeared. And Dan and Emma were going to find them. And soon.

A Thermite RPG into the headmasters office of the school killed Snape.

After the parents find the kids-The Horcrux in Bellatrix’s vault the goblins refuse to “help” with...they won’t let anyone not authorized into another customers vault. But they can certainly give a tour to potential customers. And if potential customers happen to be informed where Bella’s vault is for targeting information and it gets hit with a bunker-buster dropped through Borgin and Burke’s thereby incinerating the contents and melting them into a pile of slag that the goblins have really no problem recasting into coin... well so be it.

Yes. This long winded thing is a prompt. Sorry it’s so long. Use none of it. Use part of it. Use all of it. I don’t care, it just struck me today and I had to share it. Basically, Hermione (as in Canon) wants to protect her parents and Bolivia tea them and sends them away. She it basically the daughter in the movie “True Lies” and has no idea who her parents really are or what they’re capable of. September is the 7th month of the Roman calendar and I think I also came up with enough to throw the prophecy into ambiguity that it could even be Hermione that is the chosen one. And NOBODY knows it.

Have fun with it.

submitted by @harmonyeveryday

#harmony prompt #submission #harmony #harry x hermione #Harry Potter #Hermione Granger #harmoinyeveryday

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merry-melody · 4 years ago

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Hi! If you’re up for it, I want to hear your takes about season two Klaus. All your TUA takes have been amazing food for thought and I saw you said something about season two sucking (sorry tag stalking). I’m intrigued, have my own laundry list of problems with s. 2 and would love to compare notes if you’re interested. Thanks for putting Klaus gif sets on my dash again!

You read my mind, I was just batting around the idea of a rant! (Especially as I flunked a test yesterday, so I’m in the mood for distraction.) So thanks 💌 And share your own ideas away, please, I love discussion.

*cracks knuckles*

So, my issues with S2!Klaus (and how ultimately those issues were reflected by the writing etc. of all the characters)

* Lack of time - So, comparing, Klaus has approximately 2 hours of screentime in S1 (counting in scenes with the ensemble in which he may not be central, but is present) and approx. 1 hr 25 mins in S2. (I haven’t compared screentime for each sibling, although Ben’s would necessarily mesh with a lot of Klaus’. If anyone else does, shout, I’d be interested to see the numbers!) We also know from cast interviews/social media etc. that alternate material was cut/edited for a particular approach.

So, necessarily, you’re going to have less time to get across your arc for your character. Luckily, no one really has one here, with almost every advancement being reset in preparation for S3 and presumably yet another fresh start.

We learn little about Klaus that we didn’t already know (deals with conflict by substance abuse, motivated largely by love for Dave) and he’s not involved in much of the plot for whatever reason (the Swedes don’t pursue him, despite him being presumaby famous); so his main purpose here is comic relief. (And it turns out...Umbrella Academy is not super-hot on writing humour, if the 18305 fart jokes didn’t clue anyone in. I was not surprised to learn they retained none of the S1 writers, as there was an appreciably different approach this season that didn not work for me.)

-> Overarching issue: Huge chunks of the siblings character development was mainly offscreen or described in reams of exposition (which definitely happened in S1, but one would expect better writing by a second season.) I get that it’s necessary in a time travel plot in the style they chose to write (e.g. the siblings scattering across different years) but it’s pretty glaring. There’s also a quantity of filler for stuff that wasn’t really necessary (the Handler, the Swedes, Pogo/Reginald/Grace storyline) and is a shame when there was less interaction between all combinations of the siblings, and Ben was still undercharacterised.

* Lack of ghosts - If you take away the powers which brought the kids into Reginald’s sphere, and in Klaus’ case were presented in S1 as a power that’s uniquely awful and difficult to overcome (even drugs and alcohol only seemed to give him respite for a short time – we see he dreams about ghosts and starts to see them after only a few hours) without a reason (I’d give the latter half of S1 the benefit of the doubt and say with the impending apocalypse, we can assume all we need to about offscreen withdrawal etc. from what we saw in 1.6 and 1.7 and just chalk up no extra ghosts to distraction on Klaus’ behalf and the effort summoning Ben; but in S2, not so much.) you’ve basically just…halved your character.

It almost suggests that Reginald’s view is correct, Klaus can apparently control his power and overcome the ghosts (as well as easily master his addiction, also offscreen) and the only reason he struggles is because of his own cowardice/narcissism/selfishness (not wanting to save Vanya/starting a cult/not wanting to ‘share Ben’ as I believe Steve Blackman put it.) Which isn’t to say Klaus, like all the sibs isn’t massively flawed; it’s just the ways in which he’s flawed are either a departure from previous canon or else…well, I’ll go into that in the cult discussion.

-> Overarching issue: lack of powers. I was going to compare this to a sibling, like if you’d just started S2 where Five no longer time travels and just never mentioned it, ever; but actually, I think almost all the characters’ powers and the effect they bring to their lives was fairly underused.

Allison is about the only one who does anything interesting, in that she seems to fall off the wagon herself in terms of trying not to use her powers (and the promise they may deal with this eventually instead of pairing her up endlessly is one of the few reasons for me to tune in to S3.)

Vanya’s character development and her inability to control her emotions is essentially divorced from her S1 incarnation with the memory loss dominating most of the season.

Luther they backed and forthed about in S1 in terms of presenting him as damaged; actively benefitting and winning approval for his strength; and as comedic; which I think was doubled down on here (his yelling ‘Look what you did to me!’ to Reginald being accompanied by the reaction shots of the others eyerolling/spit-taking; jaunty musical cues; and ‘Check please!’ punch line.)

Five, like Luther and Diego, seemed significantly dumber in a way that really only made sense as a contrivance (aka, Five needed to never once have considered using his gift to move across smaller amounts of time so he’d Suddenly Realise in the finale; and he needed to not realise that meeting their father would…get this, affect what their father might do and therefore their own lives so that we can get the ‘Oh shit!’ ending.)

The beginning montage of S2.1 seemed pointless – like, I get that you introduce elements every season in preparation for the next, I’m not media illiterate; but I feel like it’s not too much to ask that when you present something in the very first episode of 10 that you refer back to why it was included.

Why did everyone have an expert handling on their powers here, and work together, and why was it more satisfying than the actual finale?

Why did only Diego and Vanya realise their own power potential at the end of the tenth episode, apropros of nothing?

Is it on purpose that Allison is always contrivedly damselled since she could actually have some impact on the plot?

Why not include Lila mirroring Klaus’ power, what with her being a killer with presumably a few ghosts around her?

Lack of addiction – Why was Klaus clean? We see him ready to revert to old habits in stressful moments close to the end of S1, and yet here he seems to have overcome his addiction as portrayed by…a half-second shot of him refusing a joint, and yet more exposition from poor Ben. (We can assume it’s easier for him to quit since he’s not avoiding constantly ghostly visitations, but since we also have no reason for that presented in-show, we’re sort of going in circles.)

Is he sober for Dave? We don’t really delve into his realisation that Dave’s death can be avoided, and he doesn’t show any indications of having considered the issue at all over the three years of being in the sixties. (I’ve seen the headcanon that he’s staying sober in case his siblings are dead, and I think it’s lovely, but also that it’s giving way too much credit to the writing this season. Remember we see the very concept that the whole family have died presented as comical in the first episode – ‘They’re all gone! Poof! Like a fart in the wind!’ complete with humourous whimpering expression.)

Neither does he maintain his sobriety even temporarily in order to communicate with Dave prior to realising/believing his actions have come to nothing.

All totally believable, the guy’s an addict (although I do feel the comedic approach does weaken the believability of this link to Dave somewhat – I feel like Klaus, like his brothers this season, is portrayed here as going beyond their previous incarnations as thoughtless/spacy/self-involved etc. into actively stupid, and stuff like him only thinking to approach Dave twice – with years to prepare! – and not even remembering Dave’s uncle’s name correctly qualifies more as the latter than the former.) but it does then just create more questions as to how easily he quit offscreen, and suggests a plot written backwards from what they wanted the end result to be, rather than what that arose organically.

(I also think that there’s very little difference in the writing for him from sobriety to addiction, in terms of set pieces, dialogue, acting etc and I’d be interested to hear about the direction of the scenes prior to that; because I’m never quite convinced with UA that they have much to say on addiction or substance abuse beyond ‘Spacy hippy = amusing.’)

-> Overarching issue: Events having a lack of impact on the story – What was the point of the cult plotline? We learn very little about Klaus (to the point where 90% of the whole thing is just regurgitated pop culture references) – apparently he’s narcissistic (we know this because like everything in this season, we’re told it, repeatedly, just like: ‘Luther is sensitive.’ ‘Diego has a hero complex and daddy issues.’) but then, include scenes of him enjoying the adulation!

Here they’re basically using the same template for Allison in S1, where she’s manufactured a life of celebrity for herself but grown tired of it before we even meet her.

Ben gets to deliver yet more unconvincing exposition about how they left Real Lives, it’s very much not backed up by the writing - we get no sense of the cult members as real people (beyond Life of Brian jokes about how sheeplike they are) or that we’re intended to see their interactions with the group as anything but comedy relief. This post touches on how if you take the plot in any way seriously, it doesn’t work.

Likewise, none of the siblings actions really made much of an impact on the story. Luther working for Jack Ruby went nowhere; Vanya and Allison’s families conveniently stayed behind in the sixties; the JFK obsession was a bust; the Swedes are pointless. Like, if you’re going to give each person an individual subplot rather than have characters interact and actually establish links between them that enable an audience to emotionally engage; then have it serve either individual development or the overarching story.

* Dave – Who is Dave? We’ve gone from informed attributes from Klaus and, what, 2 minutes of screentime in which he had maybe three lines to…he likes hamburgers! I get that he’s a character who will probably return, but I’m still not sure why we’re supposed to invest in him when the show has done almost no groundwork over two seasons in establishing who he is. Compare this to Sissy or Raymond, who were far more fleshed out in less time. (I’ll also throw S2 a bone and say Patch in S1 also fell victim to undercharacterisation that was then supposed to make a big impact on a lead.)

The younger version seemed contrived in order to string out storyline for longer without resolution, as it made no sense with previous casting, but I’d guess, gives Klaus a reason to do nothing until there’s like, a week before Dave signing up for ‘Nam (as presumably if Dave was the grown adult we saw a mere five years on, there’d be no barriers to them just…dating in the sixties. We need manufactured conflict!) although I still think, idk, get this! – you could link your plots here. (Got a cult spanning continents and with pull with local government, and not only does this not link into Allison’s subplot beyond Ben busting out Ray; but you’d think maybe the cult might, I don’t know…protest the war that’s going on? The one that’s going to kill Dave?)

-> Overarching issue: More importantly, who is Ben?

Instead of brothers bickering endlessly (and flatly – Justin Min is funny! So’s Robert Sheehan! Could they have some dialogue that doesn’t sound like irritating eleven year olds: ‘Idiot.’ ‘Really?’ ‘Have you showered?’ ‘I hate your face.’), wouldn’t it be awesome if we found out more about who Ben is, and his situation?

We know he can disappear– is that some kind of freedom for him from Klaus, or does he just go…nowhere? (Steve Blackman iirc said Ben is always with Klaus, but then stuff like him not knowing about Klaus sleeping with Jill, or Klaus saying he’s shy about Ben seeing him fully nude doesn’t mesh with that. We know they can separate to a certain extent, as we see him on the lower level of the cult’s bus while Klaus rides up top.) It seems probable he can interact with other ghosts, although we don’t really see much of this.

Is this is his first experience time travelling - we still don’t know if he was in Vietnam, and his S1 POV of Dave seemed like he’d personally met him, but in S2, he’s describing the whole thing far less emotively as a ‘fling’.)?

Is this an insight into how Ben, like his siblings, was damaged by his upbringing by Reginald into viewing emotions as something to personally exploit (aka when he wants Klaus to sober up, he’ll use Dave as a reason to, but when he believes Dave risks his brother’s peace of mind, he’ll dismiss the relationship?) Or is Ben the sole Good One?

Could we see a reaction from him at the concept of all his siblings being considered dead? Or some interaction with them? (Or some reaction to his death, because basically, Reginald coopts his funeral to rag on the siblings, who then tear each other apart; but what do we learn about Ben himself? Uh...died on a mission?) Wouldn’t having him vocalise this actually deepen him and his character and create sympathy as opposed to vomit gags and sex swings? Could the other siblings show some kind of normal curiosity for once, developing them also; considering Klaus literally says ‘I’m Ben’ and ‘(I’m) possessed’; and Five sees Ben in the alternate 1963?

I didn’t get the vibe Ben ever became a character independent of Klaus.

Steve Blackman seems to have a view of him that’s kind of flatly generic, where upon he’s the innately best one, with a moral wisdom the others lack; which irritates me not only because it’s not really consistent with what we see onscreen – like, in Vanya’s hallucination, we see Ben as the only one to speak up for her, but in S1 we see that Ben is as quick to exclude Vanya as any one else – but it also undercuts Reginald’s abuse by making Ben immune to his abuse in a way the others aren’t. Ben deserves to be complicated and flawed too, and while I think we see his flaws onscreen, they’re not acknowledged like the others are, so it’s hard to say if the writers were going for ‘Ben was treated like an object all his life so he treats others the same’ or ‘lulz, bodily autonomy and consent aren’t a thing.’

I feel like we already knew from S1 that Klaus felt guilt over Ben’s death but was also happy to use Ben as a mouthpiece while ignoring his actual opinions; and that Ben cared about Klaus but was bitter and envious Klaus was alive while he wasn’t.

The ‘light’ thing I think was introduced too late for something that retroactively alters their entire relationship. (Not to mention Klaus’ power) and makes them both far more manipulative and mutually abusive than I think the show intended.

My first thought as a comparison was ‘What Happened to Baby Jane?’, tbh, like if you analyse it on any kind of literal level, Klaus basically prevents Ben from going to heaven in order to be his constant companion, and despite the tacked on ‘Oh, I always thought that was my fault!’ acts as if the opposite were true throughout the rest of the show’s run. And Ben, equally, allows his brother to take on the burden of believing that while knowing for 17 years that it was his own decision not to go on.

* Interactions with Family - I missed Diego and Klaus interacting (I felt like they leaned way into the less interesting side of Diego – wannabe Batman with daddy issues; and further away from his more nurturing/feminine side that appeared most with Klaus and Grace. I don’t buy S1!Diego would be like ‘ah well, overdose on the floor, then’ or that the writers understand that lines like that reflect on his characterisation as much as the sibling in question’s.) Luther and he didn’t really have an individual exchange like in S1, and kind of wavered between nice moments like Luther using his size to protect Allison and Klaus; and ‘lololol, Luther’s dragging him by the foot.’ Five and Klaus interacted far less (I literally sat trying to think of any S2 moments. ‘Pukebag?’) It was good to see Vanya and Klaus exchange more words than S1, so there’s an upgrade. And about one of the sole things I did enjoy in S2 was the Klaus and Allison interactions.

-> Overarching issue: There was way less interaction between characters generally. Halfway through the season is ridiculously late to reunite your main cast. The cast talked about how the Diego/Allison interaction was adlibbed by Emmy, and while she’s a queen, your cast should absolutely not have to be adlibbing stuff like ‘two siblings acknowledge each other’s existence’.

(I noticed this seemed to be a trend, also, like all the actors talked about the consideration they’d put into their roles – Tom Hopper talking about how Luther was seeking an alternate father figure in Jack Ruby and working for the first time in his life; Emmy talking about how Allison’s privilege within the Umbrella Academy and then as a celebrity blinded her to racial prejudice; David Castaneda talking about how Patch’s death affected Diego in S2 – when it seemed like they’d made far more effort than the writers themselves.)

Characters barely looked for each other, and had little reaction to the mutual assumption they’d all died. No one told each other anything, even stuff that might be helpful (’Guys, there’s these Swedish assassins trying to murder me!’) All stuff that was in S1, it’s just weird to see comments saying ‘Aw, everyone bonded much more in this season!’ when if anything, it felt even more contrived. I didn’t get the impression anyone cared about anyone more than the writers cared about joke potential – one episode, Allison is grimacing maternally and covering her brother with a blanket; next her reaction to what she herself assumes is ‘a seizure’ is not to move from her chair. A bunch of the Five vs Five plotline other than gas is whether or not one of them can talk Luther into killing the other first. If one person reaches out to another, it’s almost verboten that other characters could do similiarly, so if Vanya’s reaching out to ask Diego if he’s okay; we know no one else will give a shit, etc.

I feel like the desire to present all the siblings as more entertaining-awful than actually damaged takes some of the complexity away. The removal of flashbacks of them as children compounded this, like it just seemed like the show was much more focused on mocking the characters for their issues/establishing Official Character Flaws that are generally softened in some way or else skipping over them entirely (could we put in the work into reestablishing Vanya into the fold when she and her siblings have damaged each other and spent years estranged, and she ended the season emotionally broken? Why, when we can introduce a hackneyed amnesia plot which completely erases any emotional impact?) and the predestination stuff with Reginald skated around almost excusing his abuse – what on earth was that scene in which Five apologises to him for how he behaved in childhood?!

Everyone fit more into boxes. Season 1 had conflicting attributes where sometimes Luther say is gentle, other times bullying and cruel. Klaus could be selfish and empathetic. Here it’s just throwing out scraps for stuff that seems memeable: lololol, Diego and Luther are himbo energy!1 Representation! Winks to the audience about incest! ‘I’m sexy trash!’ (It’s also bizarre when we see Klaus in S1 is suffering a far more immediate PTSD than three years on, and yet is swifter to intervene when his siblings are in need.) ‘It’s an awesome reference!’ (awful lines, ugh.)

#the umbrella academy #ua meta #meta #klaus hargreeves #kierkegarden

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lilacmoon83 · 4 years ago

Text

Finding You Always

Also on Fanfiction.net and A03

Chapter 232: Wicked Game, Pt 2

"Li?" Aphrodite asked curiously.

"Yes Goddess...I am of that Li bloodline and I present to you the sacred jar of my people. The Mu…" he said, as the spectators marveled at the glowing jar.

"Don't let him fool you...he's not the good man his ancestor may have been," Patricia warned.

"I am simply a man that wants the secrets to his heritage unlocked and I believe it is within this jar. Now...the children of the sun will open it for me," he said.

"Truest loves," Snow corrected.

"And what if we don't?" David asked. He smirked.

"Then the blood of every person in this room will be on your hands…" he threatened.

"What do you plan to do if we don't?" Snow asked in alarm. He smirked.

"I believe it is better if you do not know, my dear. It is not for the squeamish and I'm afraid the carnage will be quite severe if you do not open the jar," he urged.

"Do you have any idea what is in the jar?" David asked the Goddess. But she shook her head.

"Tao would never tell me...he never fully trusted me, because my father was Zeus. And he forbade Esteban and Zia from telling me as well," she admitted.

"They did have true love, but it was secrets and mistrust like this that led to all the corruption around them and eventually their untimely deaths," Aphrodite said.

"Evil was never meant to fester like it did, but there was six hundred years without a pair of truest loves to stand for good and justice. I think you both know how dark things can be without love," she added. Snow squeezed his hand and leaned her head against his arm. She knew all too well. She had once taken a potion to forget him and became the worst version of herself.

"Yes...their abysmal failure has fallen on you, their successors. Unfortunately, you shall fail too," Li said.

"Clearly you don't know us…" David said.

"There are no secrets between us...no mistrust," he added, as he looked at her and gently cupped her cheek in his palm, making her smile.

"And we're surrounded by friends and family that have our backs," Snow added.

"That is why I knew you two would be my greatest champions, so you will most certainly fail, Mr. Li. Not even the likes of Seth, a God killer, could stand against this true love," Aphrodite added. He smirked.

"Oh, I don't intend to stand against them. I intend for them to release whatever is inside this jar and take hold of its power. Your refusal will bring this entire building down upon our heads," he warned.

"With what? What have you done?" Regina asked.

"The lower levels of this museum have been wired with explosives. This entire thing can collapse in on itself, killing everyone here and destroying all this history...unless I get what I want," he threatened.

"You're bluffing," David challenged. He smirked.

"I do not bluff, Your Highness. I care nothing for these people. Their lives are insignificant," Li responded.

"No one is insignificant," Snow argued.

"Then do something!" Goldie snapped, as she now became concerned that he would make good on his threat.

"Just leave if you're so worried," Snow snapped at her.

"I don't think we have a choice. It's too risky to take a chance that the Chalice might be able to stop the blasts without knowing where he put the explosives," David whispered to her. She nodded and swallowed thickly, as they approached the pedestal where the jar rested. It glowed incessantly the closer they got to it and they could only wonder what was inside and if it would unleash horror. Snow and David touched the jar and were immediately thrust into a vision. It was hazy, but they were in what looked like a Throne room of a palace and they recognized the people in the room.

~*~

"You must never open the jar...for anyone, no matter what," Tao warned.

"My friend...we have seen what is in the jar. I hardly see why it's important," Esteban replied.

"You should know by now that things are rarely what they seem," Tao warned.

"What does it do?" Zia asked.

"It's sacred to my people. That's all you or your Goddess friend need to know," Tao replied shortly.

"When are you ever going to trust me," Zia questioned.

"It's not you...it's her. She is the daughter of Zeus," he argued.

"The Goddess is an ally…" Esteban assured him.

"Don't be naïve and even if she is, everyone around her isn't," he replied and they were quiet at that.

"And if something happens and we cannot guard the jar...you must have a backup plan," Esteban said.

"If the children of the sun cannot guard the key to my people's legacy...then it will be up to the sire of my bloodline to do so. Even then...you need more than the jar to unlock its secrets," Tao replied.

"And where are those secrets?" Zia asked. He smirked.

"Where else?" he asked in amusement.

"A book," she realized.

~*~

The vision ended and they exchanged a glance. They had no idea what was in that jar, but whatever object was concealed inside must have looked unexceptional to the eye. It was more riddles too, which was par for the course at this point. But whatever came out of that jar, they only hoped that Ichiro Suun Li had no idea what to do with it, for if he did have the knowledge, there was telling what that might mean.

"Fine...we'll open the jar for you and then you'll let everyone go," David said. He gave a curt nod and the jar glowed brightly, as they touched it. Snow touched the top of the jar and the seal closure dissolved. A poof of mist was released from the jar and they cautiously looked inside.

"Give me what's inside now!" Li demanded. David dumped the contents into his hands and he looked at the object in awe.

~*~

Once Killian docked the ship, Leroy was there with a van and took them all back to the station. Rose waited anxiously and ran to him the moment she saw him, throwing her arms around him. He smiled and ensconced her in his firm embrace, as she kissed him passionately.

"I was so worried…" she fretted, as their lips parted.

"I know, my angel...but I'm fine and the mission was a success," he replied, as he held her in his arms.

"I'm so glad you rescued them and no one was hurt," she said.

"No one except the doctor," Hyde mentioned, which drew their attention.

"What?" Emma asked.

"He's alive...but I lopped off his hands. He wasn't able to use his demon magic to regrow his limbs. While I'm sure he'll find a way to regain what he has now lost, it was still a victory since it seems that Hyde invented something that was definitely a match for him," Fandral replied.

"And that combination of science with the magic of the chalice could be the key. It might give my parents exactly what they need to end him for good," Emma realized.

"Yes...we were thinking that exactly," Fandral said.

"Which is good...considering the horror he has planned," Zorro replied, as Killian joined Emma and put his arm around her.

"He wants your star gem," he said wearily.

"Mine?" she asked.

"And your parents...siblings too and he has a way to do it," he revealed.

"I'm so sorry...I developed what he asked for. I didn't want to...but I couldn't let him hurt my daughter," Hiram apologized. She nodded.

"It's not your fault. Any of us would do anything for our kids," Emma said.

"So...what is this device?" Rose asked.

"A pair of gloves, not unlike the magic ones he has made for Rodmilla Tremaine. Except instead of giving the user synthetic magic, these gloves will allow him to rip hearts and extract the star gems, without damage to the heart," Fandral explained.

"He also built a staff of sorts to harness the gems and channel their power," Zorro said.

"Oh my God...he'd have control over us, wouldn't he?" Emma asked.

"I'm afraid so...we destroyed these abominations, but I'm afraid it's only a matter of time before he rebuilds them," Fandral replied.

"Yes...he has my blueprints, which means he can recreate my work now," Hiram said regrettably.

"Well...at least we know what he's up to now. But even with magic, Cora couldn't rip my heart when she tried. Though somehow I doubt Jekyll will have the same problem. He always seems to bypass our magic with science," Emma replied.

"But like you said, we know what he plans now and we can prepare," Fandral said. They nodded.

"Yeah...getting him away from that damned island is key I think and that won't be easy," Killian said.

"Yeah...but I know my parents. Between them, Gold, and Regina, they'll come up with something," Emma assured him, as she turned to Hiram and his daughter.

"Your place is still a mess, but we can drop you off at Granny's until your place can be cleaned up and repaired," Emma said.

"Thank you, but I have plenty of room at my place. They can stay with me," Hyde replied. She nodded.

"Thanks again for all the help. I'll tell my parents about everything and your new invention," she said. He nodded and turned to Fandral, before putting his hand out. Fandral accepted the gesture and shook his hand.

"Thank you for helping to save them," Hyde said.

"Anything for family," Fandral replied, as Rose put her arms around him and they watched them go. He looked down at her and rested his hand on the small swell there.

"Let's return home to our family," he suggested, as he kissed her gently.

"Us too," Emma agreed, as Leroy took over for the night shift and they went home for the evening.

~*~

King Runeard took a late night stroll that evening in Arendelle. He wore a thick cloak and a hood so as to not be recognized. But there were very few out and about in the twilight hours. It seemed his Kingdom knew peace, but peace had always made him a restless soul. He had great ambitions for Arendelle. Eliminating the threat of magic would have ensured that he could have grown Arendelle's armed forces and eventually invaded certain Kingdoms with no magical protection. At least, that had been the plan. The Northuldra posed a great threat if they decided to help other Kingdoms and that was why he had targeted them first. He planned to take them out and then move on the Kingdom furthest north in Misthaven.

At that time, few Kingdoms had magical protection and he knew enough about fairies to know that they wouldn't intervene in mortal wars. Zeus had rarely ever involved himself in mortal quarrels, unless his wayward family members found themselves entangled with mortals. Arendelle was to become a conquering nation and assimilate Misthaven accordingly. Peace meant nothing if you had no power to keep the peace. Or at least his version of peace, which meant control of anything and everything he could see.

Magic could spoil it all. Magic, to him, was the pathway to everything unnatural. He believed in working for everything you had and yet someone with magic could have it all with no effort at all. To him, the easy path was the path to destruction. Magic always came with a price, after all. But instead of his adversaries paying the price for their magic, he had paid that price. He had only been trying to rid the world of power no one should have and as a result, he was banished when that power sought to destroy him. He took pride in that. He had disrupted the balance and was punished for it.

His first years, wandering the desolate netherworld, had been uneventful. But one day, a vision came to him and he saw Arendelle under the onslaught of magic. Magic unleashed by his own bloodline, proving to him how devastating such power could be. The spirit of the Northuldra apparently had lived on, not only in his own bloodline, but another as well. The Northuldra had chosen a new bloodline to bestow its gifts upon. The children of parents, championed by a Goddess. In his absence, the magic had grown and spread like a disease, ensuring that no order could ever be restored. Unless he restored it. A reset could fix the problem.

"Disgusting, isn't it?" a female voice said, as he watched magic rule this world.

"Who are you?" he asked.

"I am Gothel...and I wanted the same as you. To unmake the world and return it to a former glory. But I failed, thanks to that little family," she said.

"You have magic too…" he said in disgust. She smirked.

"No longer...I don't even exist anymore. They erased me and now I am this," she said, as she touched a small sprout that had managed to grow from the desolate ground. He watched it wither and turn to ash.

"Everything I now touch dies...I now kill my lovely creations," she said sadly.

"A terrible existence, indeed. For you anyway," he said, as he approached.

"For me though...I would use such to unmake the world too. Magic must die. Only then can order be restored," he replied.

"Touch me and it will be you that turns to ash," she warned. But he surprised her and gripped her throat. His skin began to slowly turn gray, but he persisted to choke her, until the gray receded and began to turn on her. She looked at him with wide eyes, alarmed that he had easily overpowered her.

"I'm afraid not. I have been here much longer and know the tricks of this place," he boasted.

"And you are no longer a flower...you are nothing more than a weed that needs yanked out. You will wither...but this ability you have will pass to me," he added.

"And then...when I get free, the realms will get a do-over with me at the helm," he said. She barely screamed, as she turned to dust and her ability to drain life transferred to him.

In this new land, magic meant life and most importantly love. Light magic dueled with dark magic, but as far as he was concerned, it all needed wiped out. Only then would the elements go back to being balanced. Only when people were not wielding them could things be right. He looked at his hands in amazement. He had the power to shred everything down to nothing and start anew. And if he was ever freed, he would do so.

Now that he was free, he had spent his first few days observing this world and as he stared at his grand castle before him, his anger only grew. His own bloodline had been infected by the last of the Northuldra. But worse than that, an outsider sat on his former Throne; one from the very family chosen by the elements. It was an abomination, but he would soon rectify that.

The earlier scuffle with Dr. Jekyll had proven that he would only stand in the way of what Runeard wanted. He didn't like that the demon was impervious to his ability, but he was a patient man. He would let the doctor war with the Charmings and eventually lose. The other peons were of little concern. If they crossed him, then one touch would rid him of their nuisance. He turned back toward the Fjord and smirked, as he saw the waters beginning to churn violently. He would enjoy leaving these types of parting gifts in his wake though. As he made his way back to the sanctuary of Pleasure Island, a storm began to rage in Arendelle once again.

~*~

"What is this?" Li asked, as his face twisted in disgust.

"A rock? This is what you've been going on about for years?" Charles asked.

"All we've heard is the story of this stupid jar and how it's got some all magical power inside," Ginger agreed.

"Shut up!" Li snapped at his cohorts, as he looked curiously at the green stone that looked to be shaped like a heavily stylized fish hook.

"There must be more to this! Get it to work!" he demanded, as he placed it in Snow's hand.

"And what exactly do you expect us to do with this?" Snow asked. They remembered their vision, but if there was something significant about this rock, they weren't about to tell him.

"Make it work!" he shouted.

"Dude...it's a rock," Bobby said, as he looked at it and picked it up to examine it.

"It's a pretty cool rock though," he mentioned.

"No...there has to be more! This cannot be all there is to the secrets of my ancestors!" Li ranted.

"We did as you asked. Now you'll disarm the explosives and let everyone go," David said sternly.

"No...you'll figure out what this is! Or everyone dies...starting with her!" Li threatened, as he grabbed Snow's arm and pulled her toward him. He pulled a curved blade from his belt and put it to her throat.

"Well, that was stupid," Bobby commented.

"Very," David agreed, as Snow knocked her head back into his face and he held his nose in pain. The three perpetrators were suddenly stricken and unable to move, thanks to Rumple and David and Xander cuffed all three.

"There were five of you supposed to be in attendance tonight," Patricia said, as she moved to interrogate them.

"Now, I know General Mendoza is likely in the shadows somewhere and using his own, innocent soldiers to protect him. But that still leaves one of you out there," she added and they heard a slow, mocking clap. They could hear the tapping of high heels on the floor, as a woman emerged from the shadows.

"Bravissimo, truest loves. A magnificent show, indeed," a stunning blonde said, as she came forward.

"Who the hell are you?" David asked bluntly. She smirked and blew out a breath.

"My...so abrasive. No tact...and sinfully handsome too. How exciting," she commented.

"I recognize you...you're…" Snow said, with scrutiny and blocked her path to Charming.

"Callista Stavros...and you must be the famed and fairest Snow White," she said, with an edge in her voice.

"Clayton was quite obsessed with you...and her," she added, as she looked at Aphrodite. Her distaste for the Goddess was evident in the daggers she was shooting at the other blonde. Snow rolled her eyes.

"Well, whatever grievances you have with us are misplaced. Clayton was a creep and it's on you for getting involved with him," the raven haired beauty said.

"Oh, you don't need to lecture me, princess. I know exactly what he was...but he still gave me my son, who you have locked away. You're going to release him or a lot of innocent people are going to die," Callista threatened," as her eyes scanned the room and landed on Natalie. She smirked.

"Looks like I'm going to be a grandmother soon," she said. Robert and Thalia blocked her path to Natalie, as did Snow and Charming.

"Not happening...Clayton's line is one that needs to die with him and your son," David responded. She smirked.

"I warned you...and now you're all going to pay," she hissed, as they heard a boom of thunder from outside. They saw her eyes begin to glow yellow.

"Oh...it's been so long since I have felt magic coursing through my veins," she said.

"How do you have magic?" Snow questioned.

"She's a Goddess...now I know why you're familiar…" Aphrodite said, as the roof above them was suddenly ripped off by her magic. The sea from the ocean churned off the coastline and threatened to breach the land.

"Who is she?" Regina asked.

"Calypso…" Aphrodite answered, as they watched her arms become tentacles. She immediately went for James and wrapped a tentacle around him, snapping him away from his wife.

"Looks like Clayton had a child with a Goddess, after all...just not the one he wanted," Rumple commented.

"James!" she cried, as she ran after him, but the other Goddess batted her away.

"Hey Succubus...I can do that too!" Bobby called, as vines erupted from the floor and wrapped around her. She screamed in agony, as the thorny vines pierced her skin. David swung his blade and sliced through her tentacle, releasing his twin, who he helped pull back.

"Thanks...Aphrodite!" he called, as he found his wife getting up, after being hurled into a wall.

"I'm fine," she assured him, as they watched Calypso grow in size.

"Let's see if you can stop a flood...boy," she roared and they hurried outside, only to see that she had created a waterspout; a twister over the water that was threatening serious damage to the whole city, endangering thousands.

"Emma...now would be the time for backup," David said into his phone. Within minutes, a sparkling orange portal opened up, depositing Emma there.

"Holy crap on a cracker," she uttered, as she joined her family.

"Who the hell is that?" Leo asked, as he and Elsa came through another portal.

"Calypso...also Johnny's mother," Snow told them.

"Well...she seems a lot different than the myths I read," Eva said, as a portal deposited her as well.

"She is...she is not a recluse waiting on an island for wayward sailors at all," Aphrodite replied.

"Wow…I guess one of the heads of these families being immortal makes sense," Summer said, as she was the final one to join them. Her tentacles whipped around and damaged the buildings around her, sending chunks of them flying and turning them into dangerous falling objects. Summer gasped and started putting as many of the falling pieces into bubbles as she could. But one large piece fell directly on the three heads of the families they had arrested, including Mr. Li, crushing them all. It was a gruesome end, but these three had probably ruined many lives and were all heartless and none would shed a tear.

"We need to shut this down quickly or there are going to be some innocent people that get hurt!" Emma called.

"Storm bubble...like we did with Seth!" Leo suggested.

"That's perfect!" Bobby said, as they prepared to isolate her and themselves inside a combination of their powers.

"She's flailing around too much for me to get a bubble around her!" Summer cried, as the Goddess continued her ballistic assault on the city.

"Leave that to me," Elsa said, as she created an icy path for herself and then used it like she was ice skating to get close enough to Calypso. She unleashed her powers and slid all the way around her, freezing her legs to the ground.

"You insolent brat!" Calypso cried, as she found herself immobile from the waist down. She slapped Elsa away with one of her tentacles and she went flying through the air.

"Elsa!" Leo cried, but Summer released a bubble and captured her safely inside, allowing her to float to safety.

"Thanks," Leo said in relief. Summer smiled at him.

"Okay...one big bubble coming up," she said, as she released one and encased her and all of them inside.

"What is this!?" Calypso growled, as she tried to burst through the bubble.

"Eye of the Storm," Bobby said.

"Eye of the Storm," his siblings agreed.

"I'll crush you all!" she threatened, as her tentacles snapped at them, trying to capture one of them in her coils. Snow aimed and fired an arrow, hitting her in the chest. She screeched in pain and plucked the arrow out of her chest, glaring down at her.

"You'll have to do better than that, fairest one," she hissed, but the arrow in her hand exploded and burned one tentacle very badly.

"Those exploding arrows were a really good idea," David said, as he put his arm around her.

"They were...Henry's love of comic books usually serves us well," she agreed, as Calypso looked at the damage done to her.

"You little bitch! If I wasn't hearing about the Goddess, Clayton was going on about you!" she raged, as she flailed her tentacles in their direction.

"You weren't even a Goddess...and he wanted you over me! I was just the convenient choice in case he couldn't use you or that blonde bimbo to have his spawn!" she hissed.

"I've cursed your name many times and now I'm going to squeeze the life out of you and make your beloved watch!" she growled, but Leo stepped in front of his parents.

"Nope…" he said, as he unleashed his powers, adding an electric layer to the barrier around them. There was a sharp gust of wind, as Eva added her pink colored magic to her twin's. Emma joined them, adding her white fire to the bubble around them.

"What do you brats think you're doing?!" she screamed.

"Oh, you're about to find out, Octopus breath," Bobby quipped, as he harnessed the power of the bubble and used his own power to shrink it down around them.

"You think this little bubble is going to destroy me?" she asked.

"No...but I am," Bobby replied, as his siblings and parents all put their hands on his shoulders, channeling their elements through him. His eyes glowed rainbow and he drew the power into a bright, multi colored ball. She barely had time to scream, as it hit her and they exited the bubble, before she was destroyed. When the explosion ceased and they lifted the shield, they saw that there was nothing left of her but ash. The damage to the city around them was done though, but four heads of these families had been taken out.

"Any idea where your General friend is?" David asked.

"Probably watching all this right now from a well insulated place. Getting to him will be the hardest, but four out of five tonight was quite a blow. The rest of them will be on high alert after this," Patricia replied.

"Then let's repair the damage and go home," Regina said, as she and Rumple assisted Emma and Bobby in repairing all the damage to the city that they could. Summer used her powers to help the water recede back into the ocean and David sheathed his sword.

"As usual...we make a pretty good team," Snow said. He smiled down at her and then kissed her tenderly.

"Only you two would make out after you drop four bodies," Goldie commented, as their lips parted.

"First of all, we didn't kill those three and Calypso would have killed us all, including you, unless we destroyed her first," David argued.

"Perhaps...but before you two and your magical brats came along, this land didn't have to deal with monsters like that. Something tells me that many would be happy to see you go and never come back," Goldie said, as they saw the army trucks arriving.

"We're helping free them from some very bad people. Maybe you could report the truth for once," Snow snapped.

"People they don't even know exist. You may think you're doing good, but that's not how a lot of people will see it. They didn't ask for a Savior. Maybe you two should stop forcing your kids to be those saviors," Goldie argued.

"Oh shut up, you two bit hack. Our parents don't force us to do anything," Bobby said, with irritation.

"Excuse me?" she questioned.

"You heard me. Find your own way back to Storybrooke," he said. Snow and David smirked, as they made their way through the portal, leaving her and Grimm behind.

"Oh I loathe them," Goldie growled.

"Come on, let's get back. I could only smuggle one bean out of the field without getting caught. We'll need to rent a car and drive back," he said.

"That's fine...we can podcast in the car," she replied.

~*~

"So all that crap and all that's in the jar is a rock?" Emma asked, as she shoveled onion rings in her face. It was late, but they were starving and Joe and Frankie insisted on cooking for them before they closed up, for which they were grateful.

"Yeah...but it's a cool rock. I think I'm gonna put it on a lanyard and wear it," Bobby said. Regina helped him out and attached it one for him with magic.

"Thanks Nana," he said, as he put it on, just as his parents exchanged a glance again.

"Okay you two...what do you know about this? I can tell there's something," Regina said.

"Well...we sort of had a vision when we got close to the jar and it glowed," Snow said.

"This thing doesn't even look like a jar," Leo commented, as he looked it over and inside.

"What did you see?" Summer asked.

"Our predecessors and their advisor," David revealed.

"Tao was his name," Aphrodite recalled. They nodded.

"Whatever this rock is...I think there is more to it," Snow said.

"And whatever secrets this thing has...apparently, it's in a book," David replied.

"Of course...it's always a book, isn't it?" Regina questioned.

"Do you think the people of Mu might know what it is?" Eva asked.

"It's worth a shot going and talking to Queen Nubia and then if they can tell us about this book, it will give Rose a bit more to go on," Natalie replied, as she examined the artifact. Bobby knew his Aunt loved artifacts like this.

"I think...this is a Pounama stone," she said.

"A what?" Bobby asked. She smiled.

"It's a durable stone, usually found in New Zealand and sometimes on other Pacific Islands. It wouldn't surprise me if they were common on Mu," Natalie replied.

"Cool...can I come with you when you go tomorrow?" Bobby asked.

"To see Zia?" Leo asked, as he nudged his baby brother.

"No…" Bobby protested, as all eyes looked at him.

"Maybe," he muttered and Snow smiled.

"Of course sweetie...but for now, I think we should all go home and get some sleep," Snow said.

"Uh there's more that went on while you were gone, but it can wait till morning. I'll tell you then," Emma said. They nodded and parted ways for the night.

~*~

The small private plane landed on the equally as private airstrip. Mendoza, in his full military uniform, complete with all his decorations as the three star General he was, stepped off and made his way inside the building where a car awaited him. He got in and nodded curtly to the woman there, drinking expensive wine. The car drove them to the undisclosed location where they would meet with the rest of the heads of their secret organization.

"Seven," she finally said.

"Ms. Blaine…" Mendoza started to say.

"Save it," she snapped.

"They have killed seven of us, including Ms. Stavros!" she hissed.

"Operations all over the world are on the verge of collapsing with this news! She took over for Clayton when he was killed. Without her...it's a serious blow!" she shouted.

"Relax…I have a plan," Mendoza insisted.

"Your last plan to lure them to Washington DC for ambush worked out splendidly," she pointed out.

"How was I supposed to know that Callista has really been the Goddess Calypso this whole time and allowed the lure of magic to play her hand too soon?" he snapped back and she was silent. That had been a surprise to all of them.

"The others are refusing to agree to anymore appearances. These two...and their children can kill Gods and Goddesses. They want a solution and I seriously hope you have one or you might join the others," she threatened.

"I do have a new plan. It will take time, but it's in the works," he said.

"It better be good," she said, as the car continued on. Once at the undisclosed location, he would reveal his plan…

~*~

Snow mewled, as he kissed her passionately, moving his lips over hers in a sensual rhythm. She felt boneless and sated after her husband made love to her. She sighed, as his lips trailed down her jawline and to her neck, giving her goosebumps all over.

"Charming…" she murmured, as he moved back up and kissed her lips again. Eventually, they settled down and she rested half atop him, as their legs remained entangled beneath the bedclothes. She rested against his chest and he gently stroked her naked back.

"It's good to be home," she said. He dropped a kiss to her hair.

"Definitely…I'll be glad when we don't have to leave. This is where we belong," he said.

"Mmm…I agree. We just keep running into monsters. Here and out there," she replied.

"I know...but I also know our love is always going to win out. I have faith," he assured her. She smiled and kissed him tenderly, while stroking his handsome face.

"Me too, my love," she agreed, as they settled down and sleep finally took them. Tomorrow was likely another busy day in their fight against the forces of darkness around them. But they would never hesitate to face it head on and knew love would always light the way...

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andrewmoocow · 4 years ago

Text

Steven Universe: The Fantastic Mutants chapter 3: Enter the Brotherhood (originally posted on July 11, 2020)

AN: Sorry this took so long to come out readers. Coronavirus, online school and all that jazz just had me occupied for a good while. Hopefully you've been keeping yourselves entertained in the midst of this quarantine; I've gotten into Star Wars: The Clone Wars, Scooby-Doo Mystery Incorporated, Cardcaptor Sakura, Magi: The Labyrinth of Magic among others. Anyways, let's get back, at long last, to the Xavier Institute for Higher Learning of Gifted Youngsters (or just Xavier Institute or XIHLGY since that name might be a bit too long for some) and see how the Crystal Gems and their new allies can get out of this one!

A few hours prior to their invasion of Professor Xavier's school, the Brotherhood of Mutants sat around a table examining the exploits of the Crystal Gems to get a good idea of what they'll be getting into. "Don't ya think we're in over our heads?" Juggernaut asked his fellow mutants while watching video footage of Lapis stealing the ocean. "I mean, one of them can literally use 75% of the planet to kill us all!"

"The blue one may have the strongest power, but she is also rather emotionally fragile." Black Tom remarked. "In fact, all of them are pretty unstable once you think about it. Insecure, dependent, obsessed, haughty, cowardly, hotheaded..."

"Quit with the psychology stuff Tommy!" Pyro exclaimed out of boredom. "What I wanna know is how could they brainwash three world-destroying monarchs so easily? Could the same happen to us too?!"

"Well, the boss maybe." Sabretooth answered. "Speaking of which, where is he?"

However when Creed wasn't looking, the master of magnetism was standing behind him with Mystique at his side. "Lemme guess, he's standing right behind me."

"How could you guess? Do you have psychic abilities like Xavier?" Mystique snarked as she sat down next to the clawed mutant. "I've been discussing plans with Erik for the past few minutes, plans on how to infiltrate these Gems. He chose the water-controller as the one I should masquerade as since it would require that I retain my usual skin color."

"He's got a good point, but why are we hunting these down in particular?" Avalanche wondered. "Is it because of how celebrated they became for allying with the Avengers?"

"Not quite everyone." Magneto revealed. "Our current ally Doctor Doom wants the child's gemstone for the purpose of creating his own army of half-Gem warriors. And taking care of them will be so fulfilling for me after Rose had left me all those years ago."

In the present day, the Brotherhood had begun their assault on the Crystal Gems, with their archenemies the X-Men caught in the crossfire and the Fantastic Four as well. The mansion was left damaged in their arrival and the Brotherhood now has the heroes surrounded.

"Now my friends, are we going to make peace by handing the child to me or must we resort to drastic measures?" Magneto purred threateningly, holding out his hand and expecting someone to shake it.

"Like we'll ever let you have Steven!" Garnet stated. "Just a few weeks ago, he was nearly captured in a situation similar to this one, and we refuse to let it happen again."

"So when I want to do what's right, you try to fight back." Erik pointed out. "Yet when those three Diamonds plotted to destroy Earth, you let them off scot-free simply because they were mourning a bratty child that was no better than them? The hypocrisy is quite strong here!"

"Can we just cut the blabbing about our morality and fight already?!" Amethyst complained while wriggling free from Black Tom's vines and pouncing on Toad, tying his tongue around his eyes to blind him. "Why are you always targeting me?!"

With that, the battle properly began. The Crystal Gems charged at the Brotherhood of Mutants with the X-Men and Fantastic Four by their side, tearing up the mansion even more.

During the chaos, Morph snuck around the battlefield in the guise of Garnet and tackled Sabretooth from behind, sitting on top of both his arms. "You little shit, get offa me!" Victor exclaimed in agony while Morph then took the form of Groucho Marx. "I'd have you cry uncle, but you don't really have one as far as I know." He quipped while pretending to hold a big cigar.

Meanwhile Steven & Connie had formed into Stevonnie to gain a better advantage over Magneto, but he used psionic shields against their sword. "Gem fusion! I remember that quite well!" the master of magnetism recalled. "Garnet and Amethyst fused much like you to tear Auschwitz apart."

"Auschwitz?! You mean the Nazi concentration camp?" Stevonnie asked. "You must've been one of the Jews locked up there, right?"

"Indeed, me and my parents as well." Erik answered. "But alas, I wasn't one of the lucky ones."

It was October 7, 1944, towards the end of World War II when Erik's mutant powers awakened. When his mother was heartlessly shot dead by the scientist Klaus Schmidt, Erik promptly went berserk with a loud cry of "NEIN!" followed by manipulating every metallic object in the room, even crushing a pair of army helmets and the heads of the Nazis wearing them.

Klaus was excited at Erik's potential, but his joy turned to fear when a loud crash was heard before a massive purple flail burst through the roof of his office. "Mein gott." The mutant ally of the Third Reich muttered in awe of Sugilite. "Hey small fry!" the brutish fusion grinned while grabbing Schmidt by the collar with two large fingers. "Why don't you try picking on someone your own warped fascist government?!"

"Please let me go!" Klaus begged for mercy. With a toothy smirk, Sugilite gave her word and dropped the man back through the hole made in his roof, landing Klaus on his desk and making him too injured to get up. "Puny Nazi." Sugilite sneered before separating into Garnet and Amethyst.

"Bitte, hilf mir." The boy who would become Magneto croaked while crawling out from underneath the rubble, mildly injured but thankfully not comatose. "Bunte damen, hilf!"

Unfortunately, his voice was too hoarse for anyone around to hear. Not even the Nazis carrying away the bodies of his mother and Klaus were able to pay attention to the young mutant. "Is anyone else in here?" the voice of Rose Quartz called out as she stepped into the ruined office. However, she was able to find a certain young man pinned under pieces of ceiling. "Are you okay young man?"

Still hoarse, Erik was unable to give his name to the Gem. "Hallo, mein namen ist Rosenquartz." Rose introduced herself in some sloppy German. "Kannst du mich verstehen?"

"Rose!" the commanding tone of Captain America distracted her for a bit. "You have to come with me, they're bringing reinforcements from HYDRA!" he urged the Crystal Gem leader. With a small gasp, Rose turned back to Erik with some comforting words. "Don't worry little one." She assured him in English. "I'll be back for you soon."

But unfortunately for Erik, she never did.

"So you're hunting us down partially because Rose forgot about you?" Stevonnie asked. "Honestly, I'm not really surprised."

"I remember what happened that day!" Pearl exclaimed. "Rose couldn't come back for you because she was poofed during the battle and we had to retreat. I am truly sorry we were unable to make do on her promise."

"Sorry just won't cut it!" Magneto boomed, pinning Pearl to a wall with a steel beam using his powers."And no matter how much she tried to make amends when we met again, I still never forgot."

Nearly twenty years later in 1963, the Crystal Gems were touring the city on a sunny day when they found a large group of people gathered before a stage, where a man made a speech. "What are those guys doing?" Amethyst asked her fellow Crystal Gems. "I'm not sure, but I believe we should get a better look." Garnet answered.

As the Crystal Gems blended into the rather blasé crowd, the man continued speaking. "Despite the fact that you lauded such beings as the late Captain America, you also hypocritically look down upon mutants for possessing similar abilities."

"Uh actually sir," a young news reporter with a fake toothbrush mustache spoke up. "There is a clear difference. Captain America was given his powers by science to help win the war. Mutants on the other hand were born with their powers that could go out of control if pushed too far."

"Did anyone ask for your opinion boy?" the man boomed as he glared at the reporter. "Please don't take it out on me sir, I'm just a young reporter!" the newsboy nervously squeaked and then high-tailed it out of there. "But thanks for the story menace!"

"Hmph, children." The speaker rolled his eyes before returning to his speech, or he would've had he not found a familiar face joining his audience. "Wait, I remember you!" he shouted. Using his magnetic abilities, he pushed the spectators away by forming a path straight to Rose using the steel fence that once separated them. "Rose Quartz. How have you been coping with the captain's demise?"

"I'm sorry, do I know you?" Rose asked the mutant. "Of course you'd forget about me." He replied. "I am known as Magneto, the master of magnetism! But I'm sure you'd at least remember me calling myself Erik."

"Oh my goodness, Erik?!" Rose exclaimed. "I am so sorry I didn't come back to you like I promised! There was HYDRA coming for us at Auschwitz, I just didn't have time and-"

"I believe that's enough!" Magneto roared before he proceeded to use the fences against Rose. "You have forgotten me at the camp, and now I shall make sure everyone forgets you!" He tossed the fences at the Gem, but Garnet & Pearl quickly deflected them. "Stay away from her!" Pearl called. "Amethyst, get everyone out of here while we take this one on!"

Amethyst gave a comical salute before she rounded up all the human spectators with her whip and dragged them to safety. "I see how it is." Magneto boomed. "You are just like all of them."

"No, you don't understand Magneto!" Garnet stated. "We've actually met and fought alongside a few mutants before! There was this Canadian one during the war, and we even met En Sabah Nur as well! The Crystal Gems value all life on Earth, whether they be ordinary humans or otherwise!"

"You can try to rope yourself into my good graces all you want Gems!" Erik growled. "Because nothing can ever change the past!"

"That fateful battle was how we first met Xavier. He had an older team of X-Men that saved us from him." Amethyst recalled. "Speaking of which, where could they be now?"

"Wrong time, wrong place!" Sunspot exclaimed while he fired a blast of solar energy at Juggernaut, who was unfazed. "Could this get any worse today?!"

"As a matter of fact, it can." Mystique replied sharply, snapping her fingers to summon a pair of massive blue and purple robots that towered over pretty much everyone. "Pink gem detected, pink gem detected!" the machines noted in unison. "Bring boy to Doom immediately!"

"Sentinels?!" Jean exclaimed. "And it seems this time, they've been modified to hunt him down!" Emma replied as the Sentinels held out their hands to trap Steven in a forcefield. "Guys, a little help?" he called out from inside his prison. "I can't seem to get out!"

"STEVEN!" the Crystal Gems screamed while the Sentinels slowly took off into the sky with the boy in tow. "Don't worry Steven, I'll save you!" Kitty exclaimed. "Storm, give me a boost!"

"You got it!" Storm replied, grabbing the younger mutant by the waist and lifting her up high with her flight abilities. When she was let go, Kitty leaped at the Sentinels and used her phasing powers to pass through the forcefield to rescue Steven. "Don't worry little guy, I got you!"

"Thanks Kitty, but I think we might be too late." Steven thanked sorrowfully, making his new friend look up to discover that the Sentinels were headed for a large airship above them. "Aw crud." Kitty smacked her face in irritation. "Guess I walked into that one."

"Now they got Kitty too!" Scott shouted. "Yeah, I think we got the picture!" Lapis said. "Can't any of you fly up and save them?!" Morph suggested. "You seem to love ignoring obvious solutions!"

Lapis rocketed into the air as she was joined by Angel, Storm, Firestar and Human Torch with intents to rescue Steven & Kitty, but unfortunately they were quickly shot down by the Sentinels, still slowly making their way inside the Brotherhood's vessel and leaving the other heroes behind.

"Let this be a lesson to all of you Crystal Gems." Magneto declared. "You may think just saying sorry will instantly make everything better, but time will never make people forget." He surrounded his Brotherhood in his forcefield and lifted them all up to his ship. When the villains got inside, the ship sped away from the destroyed mansion.

"I can't believe we lost him, just like that." Pearl muttered while on the verge of tears. However, Reed was there to put a comforting rubber hand on her shoulder. "Don't fret, I think I might know where they're heading." Mister Fantastic declared. "They're working with one of our greatest enemies known as Doctor Doom, which means their next destination will be his kingdom of Latveria."

"Latveria? I've read about that place." Connie replied. "Very good that you know about this place Fraulein Connie." Colossus complimented her. "But still, the combined forces of Doom and Magneto might need more than just our three teams here."

"I think our first step would be calling the Avengers." Peridot suggested. "But they agreed to let us solve our own problems unless it was absolutely necessary we needed their help." Garnet responded. "Maybe at least a few of their reserve members would be useful, but not the whole team."

"I do know someone who can help us, but I don't think a few of us are going to like it." Colossus announced, much to Wolverine's irritation. "You don't mean?" Logan growled. "Da, exactly." Piotr replied with a nod and then he turned to Connie. "Connie, the X-Men now have a very special job for you."

"Whatever it is Mr. Colossus, the Crystal Temps will do what we can!" Connie said exuberantly as Peridot, Lapis, Bismuth and Nephrite assembled behind her with goofy grins on their faces.

"I admire your optimism malen'kiy. And please, call me Piotr." Colossus continued. "I cannot believe I am saying this, but we need you to find for us," he ordered her. "Deadpool!"

Wolverine giving a loud aggravated moan followed this up.

Well, this sure took a while, hasn't it?

Bitch, a while doesn't even cut it!

Wait, Deadpool?! How did you get here?

I came here to yell at you for prolonging my long-awaited proper debut for months now! Well I've had it up to here with your lazy-as-shit behavior! Next chapter, you better let me help you out or I'm taking that "ANDY ONLY" folder on your laptop for myself!

You monster, I worked hard to build up that collection! Okay fine, you can help in parts. Deal?

Deal! And what are you still doing here? Get the hell outta here until next chapter, The Deadpool and Peridot Show! Damn, that chapter title really rolls off the tongue.

17 notes · View notes

roman-writing · 5 years ago

Text

A Study in Hospitality (2/?)

Fandom: Fire Emblem Three Houses / Percy Jackson and the Olympians

Pairing: Hilda Valentine Goneril / Marianne von Edmund

Rating: T

Wordcount: 7,886

Summary: There’s a new student at camp half-blood. Hilda, daughter of Aphrodite, has been tasked with showing her around. A Percy Jackson and the Olympians AU

read it below the cut, or you can read it here on AO3

"I heard about your little 'weed killer' accident." Claude made air quotes with his fingers. "Is that really the best you could do? Weed killer?"

Hilda was in the armoury. She was sharpening her favourite axe, which -- she had to admit -- was a brave moment for Claude to approach her. She slapped the power button to stop the wheel that spun the belt grinder, and tested the edge of the curved blade against the hair on her forearm.

The hair didn't cut. The blade wasn't quite ready yet.

Lifting her personalised pink safety goggles away from her face, Hilda glanced over at Claude. "You know, it's funny you should ask about that, actually."

"Oh?" Claude leaned forward a bit. His eyes held a hungry gleam, the same he always got when he was curious about something that refused to immediately provide all its secrets.

"Yeah. I was just thinking about how it was none of your damn business."

Hilda slammed the goggles back into place, and flipped the switch to start the belt grinder again. Sparks flew as she expertly angled the blade of her axe against the grinder, making Claude jump back a step or risk singing his clothes.

Claude raised his voice slightly to be heard over the sound of grinding metal. “Oh, c’mon, Hilda! Weed killer? You really expect me to buy that?”

“Yup!”

“You have got to tell me. Not knowing is killing me.”

“And you came to cry on my shoulder? Wow. You must really be desperate.”

“Well, where is she now?”

Hilda shrugged. She paused to dip the axe’s blade in water before continuing to grind. “No idea. I haven’t seen her for a few days.”

“I thought Seteth had arranged your schedules so that you two shared everything together.”

“Yeah, and she’s just bailed on the back end of this week. And you know what? I respect that.” Hilda stopped the belt grinder again. She tested the blade, and deemed it suitably sharp for hacking off monster limbs.

Claude was leaning against a nearby wooden pillar. He played with an arrow from one of the legion of quivers that lined the walls. The shaft twirled easily between his fingers. “Won’t you even tell me about what exactly Seteth told you to do.”

With a much put-upon sigh, Hilda perched the safety goggles atop her head. She turned the axe over so that the head was firmly on the ground, and she rested her elbow against the pommel. “Fine. Since you’re being such a pain. I’m supposed to be hospitable, or whatever.”

“Sure, sure.” He used the arrow to gesture towards the surrounding armoury. “Which is why you’re here. Leaving her all alone. Makes sense.”

Her mouth opened, but every witty retort died on the tip of her tongue. Her eyes narrowed. “Hang on. Did Seteth send you?”

Claude gave her one of his signature lopsided grins, and held up his hands in surrender. The arrow dangled between his fingers. “You caught me.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.”

“He wants you to prep Marianne for next week’s lessons.”

“Did he at least say where she was?”

At that, Claude shrugged.

Groaning dramatically, Hilda tossed her gloves and protective glasses onto the nearby work bench. She then hefted the axe in one hand. A press of her fingers against key points in the long engraved handle made the axe fold into itself until it had turned into a pair of pink sunglasses, which she then perched atop her nose.

When she turned to leave, she paused. Claude was still watching her as she glanced over her shoulder. “Hey, Claude. Have you ever known a Demeter kid whose magic kills flowers? By accident, I mean.”

His expression did not change a whit, but something keen flashed in his eyes. He feigned thoughtful contemplation, then answered, “No."

“Yeah,” Hilda began striding away. “That’s what I thought, too.”

Of course, Marianne wasn't in Demeter Cabin. Hilda was beginning to think that Marianne never actually spent any time in her own damn cabin. Almost like she didn't feel at home there. It couldn't have been that the other Demeter kids were mean to her. They couldn't be mean to a fly. The idea that they could bully anyone, when they felt bad about saying something mean to plants -- like, really? plants? -- was laughable.

But still. Regardless of why Marianne was never in Demeter Cabin, it was a pain in the ass. Hilda groaned, and stomped away. She checked the woods, the only place she had actually seen Marianne go to by choice. Which was weird in and of itself, because nobody liked the woods. They were dark, and damp, and literally crawling with monsters. Thankfully though, Marianne was not to be found there either. At least, not along the edges of it.

And so it was that Hilda started the arduous task of working her way through every major site in camp half-blood. She interrogated the pegasi for a good ten minutes. Minty was particularly unhelpful, and told her that he had never heard of Marianne, which was clearly false.

He did remember the carrots, though. Crystal clear memory of that. And did Hilda happen to have brought more perchance?

Fucking pegasi. Typical.

As she was storming from one of the rear stalls however, a pair of quiet voices gave her pause. Quickly Hilda backpedalled, and hid behind the stall door.

“Did you bring the carrots I asked for?” Minty asked, sticking his head into her space.

“Fuck off,” Hilda hissed.

“Wow. Rude. And in my own stall, too.”

She pushed his head away, and tried to listen to the voices drifting over from near the coach house, where the pegasi were draped in tack to carry chariots. When she peeked out to see if she could catch a glimpse, Hilda could just make out the slope of Seteth’s profile as he spoke to Marianne.

“You are still struggling with your new environment, I see.”

“I’m sorry.”

Seteth sighed, “I know your childhood was sheltered. Your father enrolled you here because he wished you to understand what it was like to live among others. He tasked me with ensuring not just your safety and instruction, but also your personal development.”

Marianne continued to hold her silence.

Seteth waited, then said, “I am talking about making friends.”

“I -” Hilda could hear Marianne swallow past an obstruction in her throat before she could speak. “I don’t know how to do that.”

Oh, come on. Even after Hilda had thrown her a friendship bone and everything? What more did a girl have to do? Write it out in a binding legal contract?

For a moment Seteth made no reply. Then he asked very softly, “Has anyone been -” he seemed to mull over the right word, “- inhospitable towards you?”

At that, Hilda bristled with indignation. He may have not mentioned her by name, but he didn’t have to; she could tell from his tone alone that he was referring to her.

Inhospitable? As if!!

Marianne shook her head. “No. Everyone has been very kind.”

Hilda nodded along enthusiastically from her hiding spot, even though neither of them could see her.

“Hmm.” Seteth sounded like he did not believe her. “But if they weren’t, you would tell me?”

Silence.

“Marianne?”

“Yes,” Marianne said.

“Good. That’s all I ask. Now, I shall leave you to your own devices. Remember to come to dinner this time, please. It is not good to skip meals, even for one such as yourself.”

Marianne gave no reply, but she must have given some indication -- Hilda could not see if she nodded from this angle -- for Seteth strode off in the direction of the armoury. He had to walk past her hiding spot, and she plastered herself against the wall. When she was sure he was gone, Hilda hesitantly leaned forward to peer out again.

“Oh! Hey, it’s that weird girl with the carrots!” Minty shoved his head and neck past Hilda to get a good look out the door, and in doing so he squished her against the wall even further. “Do you think she brought more?”

“If you step on my Loubotins, I will turn you into glue,” Hilda growled. Her sunglasses had been knocked askew on her face.

“Your what?” Minty swung his head around, tilting it to look down. “Nice shoes, by the way. Very shiny.”

“Exactly.”

She pushed him away, straightening her sunglasses and extracting herself from the stall. It took a great deal of skill to avoid any patches of pegasus dung on the ground. If Hilda had known she would’ve been hanging out in the stables today, she would’ve worn her work boots, which she had bought especially for these situations.

Having successfully extracted herself from the stall without making a complete mess of everything, Hilda looked up. And Marianne had vanished. Poof. Like smoke.

“Shit,” Hilda muttered.

“Yeah. Sorry about that,” Minty said, not sounding sorry at all.

“No, not you!”

Shooing him away, Hilda marched off towards Marianne’s last known location. The air smelled faintly rotten, but that may have just been pegasus droppings. It was difficult to tell.

She couldn’t have gotten far. Even by magical means. Magica had its limits, after all. Hilda individually tapped the high heels of each shoe against the dusty ground, frowning at a few smudges of stubborn dirt that required a bit more magic. Then, clean and fetching as ever, she set out once more.

It made a bit more sense if Marianne was new to this whole demigod shtick. Some kids had a real rough time learning of what they were. Hilda wasn't one of those kids. Her older brother was a child of Aphrodite as well. Their father was something of a favourite of the goddess. Hilda had grown up knowing what she was, and how to use it.

For her, being a demigod was pretty damn great. And all those kids who struggled? Well, she was sympathetic, for sure. But she just couldn't relate.

Hilda found Marianne by the lake. She was sitting on a stretch of driftwood that looked like sun-bleached bone. Her elbows were tucked firmly into her sides, her hands clasped in her lap, watching a group of oreads and naiads playing. In her outdated formal attire, she looked like an antique doll that had been wound up with a spring-loaded mechanism.

Approaching on silent feet, Hilda waved a hand in front of Marianne's face and said in a sing-song tone, "Heyooo!"

Marianne started. She leaned away when Hilda plopped down on the log beside her. "Oh. It's you."

"You sound so enthusiastic to see me! I'm touched." Hilda placed a theatrical hand over her heart. She followed Marianne's gaze towards the group of nymphs. "They look like they're having a good time."

“Yes. They do.”

Marianne sounded a little wistful. On anyone else, the emotion would have been written clear as day across their face. Normally, Hilda could read people like an open book. But with Marianne, she had to really prise the book open. Like trying to read an old paperback when it was windy outside; the pages just kept trying to fold over one another until the book was shut.

Good thing Hilda had the right kind of magic at her disposal. She didn’t know what Marianne must’ve looked like to everyone else.

“You know,” Hilda drawled. She leaned back, and stretched her legs out before her. “I did promise to take you for a swim.”

Marianne’s gaze snapped down to her own feet. “I wouldn’t want to interrupt them.”

“Oh, pffft. It’s a big lake. There’s enough room for two more people. At least.”

At that, Marianne’s eyes wandered once more towards the waterline, where the lake lapped up against the pebbly shore. “I don’t really have any appropriate swimwear.”

A wave of relief swept through Hilda. She grinned. “Is that the problem? You should’ve said so sooner! We can totally get you some new clothes!”

“Where?”

Hilda leaned in closer and lowered her voice as if telling a secret. “I have my ways. Alright, so. Wardrobe.” Turning sideways so that she faced Marianne, Hilda held her hands pressed together beneath her chin. “I notice you wear a lot of dresses. Which is totally fine. In fact, you look great in them.”

Marianne seemed more confused by praise than anything else. “Thank you?”

“You’re welcome. Anyway, my point is, this week has just been, like, orientation stuff and chores, but next week is when classes start. Do you happen to have anything -- anything at all -- that’s more, you know -” Hilda tilted her hands so that her fingers were all pointing towards Marianne’s current outfit, “- athletic?”

Marianne mulled over the question for a moment. “I have a chiton.”

A chiton. Like, from honest to god Vogue 330BC.

“Oh, boy.” Pinching the bridge of her nose, Hilda said, “Okay. That’s fine. We can deal with that. We’ll just take you to the armoury. Two birds, one stone. And all that jazz.”

Marianne’s brows furrowed. “Why would the armoury have clothes?”

“It doesn’t. It’s just going to be our first stop. Right after you show me all the skeletons you have rattling around in your closet.”

At that, Marianne’s eyes widened. Her face, if it was at all possible, went even paler. “Wh - What? Why would you think I -? I don’t -!”

With a snort of laughter, Hilda rose to her feet. “It was a joke. Let’s head on over to Demeter Cabin. I want to see what sort of overhaul your wardrobe needs.”

It was a short trek to the cabins square. Marianne let Hilda do the knocking. She tried to hide behind Hilda despite the fact that it was her own damn cabin, while Hilda banged her fist against the ivy-clutched door.

"Looks like nobody's home," Hilda said, when they received no response. She turned to Marianne, then gestured towards the door. "Would you do the honours?"

"Oh. Sure."

Marianne reached past her, and grasped the door handle. The woodgrain darkened for an instant -- or maybe that was just the passage of a cloud between the sun and earth -- before the door creaked open. Hilda frowned down at the handle, but now it looked perfectly fine.

"Huh."

"What's wrong?" Marianne asked.

"Oh, nothing," Hilda said. She pushed the door open, and it swung inwards. "Though I don't know why I'm the one going first."

"Politeness?" Marianne said after a second of thought.

"Nice try. But I'll buy it, I guess."

The inside of Demeter cabin was awash with sunlight. The wooden walls were overgrown with plants, and vines trailed from the rafters. The bunk beds grew from the floors. Bundles of herbs were hung to dry from the windowsills. Warmth wrapped up the space like a cosy fireplace in winter. It was like stepping into a cottage in another world after days of long hikes across the mountains. Hilda had the sudden urge to curl up with a cup of floral tea, and maybe sleep for a week.

In other words, it could not have less resembled Marianne if it tried.

When Marianne followed, stepping into the cabin after Hilda, the door shut on her heels like a dog snapping at her calves. She started, her shoulders hunching, but she tried to mask the motion by clearing her throat.

"There was," Marianne said in the most unconvincing manner possible, "a - uh - breeze."

Hilda nodded slowly. "Right."

She had to internally remind herself that she was supposed to be hospitable. Accommodating. And also that she was supposed to be looking over a wardrobe, which was actually far more exciting a prospect.

Hilda turned back to the cabin. "So, which station is yours? Let me guess." Closing one eye, she pointed a finger and trailed it around the room as if trying to lock onto a target. She stopped when she was pointing at a bed all the way in the back corner, shrouded in the only pool of shadows in the whole place. "It's that one."

"How could you tell?"

"I have a gift for these things," Hilda said dryly.

She strode across the room until she reached Marianne's station. A chest of drawers leaned lopsidedly against the wall, and there was a bar for Marianne to hang some clothes out in the open.

Hilda pointed at the chest of drawers before touching it. "Can I -?"

Sitting down on the edge of the bed as though unsure if it even belonged to her, Marianne nodded.

Hilda opened drawers. She rummaged. She was very good at rummaging. At least, she normally was. In this instance however, there was very little to rummage through.

A few stockings. Some old-timey pantaloon things. Was that a petticoat? At least that explained how Marianne's skirts always managed to maintain such excellent shape all the time.

A few more sets of dresses were hung from the bar. Hilda pulled each back to get a better look at them. She had only seen Marianne wear two since her arrival. And always Marianne wore a gold pendant strung from a white ribbon around her neck. No other jewelry or accessories. Two of the other dresses were far more elaborate. Not in their cut -- they all made her look like an old Christian priest -- but in their fabric and embroidery. Heavy velvets with fine hands. Needlework in the richest gold that shimmered along every edge. Like she had expected to attend a ball, or an emperor's court.

"Is this everything?" Hilda asked. She still held onto the edge of one of the fine gowns, stretching the hem of its skirt, which rippled like black water in the afternoon light.

"Mostly." Marianne leaned over and pulled from beneath her pillow a set of pajamas which were an eggshell blue so pale they appeared almost white.

Or, hang on. Not pajamas. A nightgown. With an ankle-length hem, and a lace collar, and sleeves gathered into loose ruffles at the wrist.

Hilda let the dress drop. Its heavy velvet hems swung from its hanger. "Okay. I lied about the armoury being our second stop. We need to go next door stat."

"Alright?"

Marianne appeared puzzled, but she rose to her feet, and followed Hilda from Demeter cabin. It was a hop, skip, and a jump over to Aphrodite Cabin, which only had Sylvain lazing about in it, pretending to be sleeping. Hilda swatted at him with a pillow until he -- and the girl hiding under his bed -- left.

"There," Hilda tossed the pillow back onto Lorenz's bed, and walked over to her own bunk. "Now that we're alone, you can try on some of my stuff."

Marianne remained standing while Hilda pawed through her own dresser, which was literally overflowing with clothes. Shoes were piled up in a mountain beneath the bunk bed, and an additional series of bars had been strung up for the multiplication of raw stuff in Hilda's wardrobe.

Tossing various pieces of clothing across Lorenz's nearby bed without a care for his personal space -- he wasn't here; he wouldn't care unless he found out -- Hilda said, "You won't fit them perfectly, but it's better you have something for next week until I can get you some stuff in your own size. Try some of those on, and let's see how you go."

For a moment, there was silence behind her. Then, the gentle rustle of fabric. She could hear the slump of cloth to the ground, but did not look around until Marianne gently cleared her throat.

Hilda turned. She cocked her head to one side and scrunched up her nose. On her, the black track pants and branded t-shirt combo were trendy in a casual kind of way -- she could make anything look good just by virtue of proximity to herself. On Marianne however, the track pants stopped well above her bare ankles. Marianne stooped and tugged at the hem of the t-shirt in an attempt to cover her stomach more. If she straightened to her full height, the barest glimpse of skin at her waist would have been visible.

At least it would have, if not for the fact that Marianne had opted to wear an additional long-sleeved, high-collared turtleneck beneath the shirt. And she still wore that weird gold pendant over it as well. The entire effect made her appear gangly and out of place, like she had experienced a sudden growth-spurt. All knees and elbows.

“It’ll just have to do for now,” Hilda sighed. She waved towards the small pile of clothes that she had accumulated on Lorenz’s bed. “Keep them. Wear them. Return them. Or don’t. Whatever.”

“Are you sure?” Marianne asked. She was still fiddling with the end of the shirt, twisting one of her hands in the fabric.

“Don’t worry about it. We’ll get some more clothes in for you late next week. Luckily, you’re on the blue team.”

“Why is that lucky?”

“Because you look great in blue. Also because that means we’re on the same side. I mean -” Hilda plucked at her own blouse. “I look way better in red, but that would require me to cooperate with the Ares boys. So, you know. Needs must.”

“Could you please -?” Marianne made a twirling gesture with her fingers.

“What?” Hilda blinked. Then it hit her. “Oh! Sorry! Yeah.”

She turned back around, and could hear the whisper of fabric against skin. She removed her sunglasses, and toyed with them. She polished the pink lenses on the edge of her blouse. It would only take a flick of her wrist to extend them into an axe once more. Which reminded her.

“Hey, do you have a weapon?” Hilda asked, perching the sunglasses back upon her nose. She remained facing her own bunk bed and closet explosion across the ground.

“I have a sword,” said Marianne.

“Oh, good! You can use that during training exercises and classes, then.”

“No.”

Hilda paused. She had to resist the urge to sneak a peek over her shoulder; it was so much easier to read people when she could actually look at them. And Marianne was hard enough to read with magic, let alone without visual cues. “No, as in: no, you are unable to use a sword? Or no, as in: no, you are unable to use that sword?”

More shuffling and soft cloth noises. For a moment, the only reply was the creak of a floorboard as Marianne shifted her weight from foot to foot, until finally she admitted, “The second one. And you can turn around now.”

Hilda did so. Marianne was back in her own dress. Her hair was still a disaster of a messy bun.

“Okay. Cool. Cool cool cool. We’ll just get you a different sword, then. Or maybe a scythe,” Hilda joked. “Just to make your mother proud.”

"My mother?" Marianne repeated, her brows screwing up in confusion. Then her eyes widened. "Oh! Yes. I mean - um - of course. Demeter. My mother."

Alright, that was just plain suspicious. And obvious. For being such a mystery, this girl sure was a really really bad liar.

Hilda feigned nonchalance. "And your father?"

"Oh, well, he's -" Marianne pointed to the ground beneath their feet, and Hilda's eyes widened in understanding.

"Sorry," Hilda said with a grimace.

"It's alright."

"Who was that guy, then? The one that dropped you off in the limo?"

"Oh, him." Marianne wrung her hands together. "That was my adopted father. In a sense. It's complicated. He's a - well - a banker? Sort of. We don't really need the money, but he primarily handles loans during his day job. With - um - big stakes."

“Sure.”

So, Claude had been on the mark. She was a rich heiress. Ugh. He was going to be so insufferable when he found out. What a pain.

Wait. It also meant she was an orphan. Half-orphan. That counted, right? Did that mean they both won the betting pool?

Marianne shuffled her feet nervously. As if on cue, something clinked to the ground. Hilda looked down. A few coins scattered around, fat and gold and gleaming, as though they had spilled from Marianne's pocket. Marianne flushed, her cheeks going pink. Quickly she crouched down, and began scraping together the coins from the ground.

One of the coins rolled towards Hilda, coming to a halt by her feet. She bent down to pick it up, but hesitated before touching it, though she could not explain why. The coin seemed to resist her fingers, like it weighed far more than it should. Its face was worn smooth, as though from years of being rubbed by an anxious thumb in someone’s pocket. Upon it Hilda could just make out the emblem of a disfigured trident with only two prongs instead of three. When she turned the coin over, the other side bore the symbol of a cornucopia.

Or maybe it was a bearded face. Honestly, it was so time-worn she could barely tell.

Hilda straightened. "You - uh - you dropped this."

"Thank you," Marianne mumbled.

She held out her hand, so that Hilda could give it back without touching her. The coin fell into the centre of her palm with a heavy thud. She closed her fingers, and the coin vanished. Like some sort of mortal magic trick.

Alright. That was enough weirdness for one day. Hilda was going to make this conspiracy-theory bullshit go back to normal if it killed her.

Hilda squared her shoulders and marched over to Lorenz’s bed. “C’mon. Let’s go gear you up.”

She helped Marianne gather up all the clothes she was lending her, and carry them over to Demeter Cabin. And after that, she dragged Marianne over to the armoury to pick out some basic armour and a new sword. Marianne thanked her about twenty times on the way. Okay, so maybe that was an exaggeration. But she still thanked Hilda way too much. It was enough to make Hilda feel uncomfortable.

Couldn't a girl just be nice for the sake of being nice? And for the sake of a good grade?

"It's fine. Don't mention it. No, really," Hilda said, adding a bit of nervous charmspeak into her words. "Don't."

The magic washed over Marianne, but she merely blinked. "Okay. Sorry."

Now, that was just plain weird. Titans like Seteth, and pegasi, and major gods, sure. They were immune to Hilda's charms. But -- and she didn't mean to toot her own horn -- but she really was Very Good at charmspeak. The best, even. Better than her brother anyway, and he could convince a billionaire to part with their last dollar.

Apparently however, Marianne was utterly immune.

Hilda dropped a heap of leather armour onto Marianne's bed. "Alright. Well. I'll see you later."

The last thing Hilda wanted to do on a hot afternoon was sit out in the sun and work. Toil, even. This was officially in the 'toiling' category. Overhead the sky was a blue so pale it hurt to look at with the naked eye. The sun wasn't even that high up yet, but already Hilda could feel a bead of sweat gathering between her shoulderblades. Her bra would need to be peeled off later today. Ugh.

She leaned back on her hands. She, along with a host of other students all in her age group, were gathered together in the amphitheatre. The stone offered no respite from the sun's merciless heat. Pale marble burned beneath her hands and through the sheer fabric of her very short shorts. Hilda did her best to make sure the naked skin of her thighs did not actually touch stone.

Professor Manuela was delivering some sort of instructions to the class. Hilda wasn't really listening. She lent half and ear to the usual drivel about health and safety or whatever, and cast the rest of her attention towards complaining bitterly under her breath.

"I mean -- really -- we can't, like, opt out of these things?" she grumbled. "If I throw Dimitri onto his back, that means I should be exempt from every practice until the end of time."

"You haven't thrown Dimitri onto his back, though," Claude pointed out.

"Hmph. Details. Details."

Dimitri himself, the head of Ares cabin, sat a few rows in front of them. Their conversation passed right over his head. Which was lucky, really. He had a calm exterior, but Hilda knew better. She'd seen that wrathful streak of his in the forest once.

To be fair, there had been a few big scary monsters involved, and he had single-handedly staved off half of them without any regard for his own personal safety. So, like, wrath it up, War Boy.

Manuela had stopped her pacing, and was now contemplating her students. She pointed at two of them to be the first sacrifice of the day to the arena, and Hilda almost had a heart attack when Manuela pointed in her direction.

"Mr. Riegan, if you please," Manuela said, then pointed at Dimitri. "And Mr Blaiddyd. Could you both please come down for our first demonstration?"

Hilda breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank fuck." She slapped Claude on the shoulder as he rose to his feet. "Try not to lose a limb!"

Claude flashed her a broad beaming smile, as well as a middle finger. She returned the smile and waved cheerfully as he sauntered down the steps towards the arena floor, drawing his bow from his shoulders as he went.

"Um -?" said a soft voice beside her.

Hilda half jumped out of her skin. She had forgotten Marianne had been sitting to her left this whole time. It took all of her vast reserves of skill to make a graceful recovery. She lowered her pink sunglasses down the bridge of her nose so she could meet Marianne's eye. "Sup?"

At least today Marianne somewhat blended into the rest of the group. She was wearing a set of clothes Hilda had given to her, while doing her best to cover as much skin as possible. She clutched her new bronze sword between both hands, the leather scabbard well oiled and tended, even if it was plain. She tilted the sword a little. “When you mentioned we would be using these in classes and things, what you meant to say was -?”

Hilda nodded towards where Claude and Dimitri were squaring off under Manuel’s instruction. “You know. Fighting monsters, and sparring, and stuff.”

Marianne’s grip on the scabbard tightened. “What if someone gets hurt?”

With a shrug, Hilda dismissed the idea. She pushed her sunglasses back into place. “There’s usually someone around with healing magic. The worst I’ve seen is a scratch or two. I wouldn’t worry too much about it.”

In the arena, Claude managed to hold his own for a surprisingly long time. Too bad an open arena really wasn't suited to his fighting style. Had there been places for him to hide and use the geography to his advantage, he would've won. No question.

As it was, he peppered Dimitri with blows and arrows from a distance until, with a roar, Dimitri closed the distance between them. Hilda gave a sympathetic wince as Dimitri's spear swept Claude's legs out from under him, and he fell onto the ground with an audible thump.

"Ooooh that's going to leave a bruise," she said, inhaling a sharp hiss of breath when the butt of Dimitri's spear swung down. "Not the face! Not the face!!"

Claude rolled out of the way, and the blunted spear end smacked against the dusty ground of the arena. Manuela called the sparring session to a halt, awarding tips and pointers as she saw fit. She had to go up to Dimitri and place a hand on his shoulder to stop him from stalking after Claude.

The wild look in Dimitri's eyes faded, and he lowered his spear. Then he lowered his head to Claude, sweeping his hand to his heart and murmuring something Hilda couldn't hear. An apology probably, based on the way Claude waved him off with a grin.

As the two of them shook hands, Manuela's eyes sought out two more contenders from the crowd. Hilda ducked down as far as she could in an effort to avoid her gaze. It worked.

"Miss Ordelia, and Miss -" Manuela cocked her head. "-von Edmund. If you would both be so kind."

In the front row, Lysithea rose to her feet without hesitation. She bore no weapon, nor did she reveal one as she stepped out into the arena, dusting off her skirt. Meanwhile, Marianne shot Hilda a panicked look.

"Go on!" Hilda urged. "Kick her ass!"

Marianne grimaced. Or perhaps that was her trying to smile. Still, she loomed to her feet, holding onto the sword as though she had already forgotten which end she was supposed to point at the enemy. When she started to pick her way down the stairs, Hilda scooted over to join a few of the Hermes and Hephaestus kids who sat nearby.

"This should be interesting," said Ignatz. His leaned forward in his seat, his thick spectacles refracting the light. "I hope Lysithea doesn't completely wipe her off the map."

At that, Hilda lifted her hands to her mouth and called out, "Don't go easy on her, Marianne!"

Marianne's shoulders hunched up a little more around her ears, but her stride lengthened; she walked with a bit more purpose. But only a bit.

"Yeah!! You can do it!" Raphael yelled beside Hilda, as eager for a brawl as any Ares kid despite the fact that his father was Hermes. Then he lowered his voice to a rumble, and asked, "So, who is that? I’ve seen her around, but -?"

"It's the new girl in Demeter Cabin. Though Claude has his doubts about that," Ignatz explained, not looking away from where Marianne and Lysithea were squaring off; Marianne was tugging her new sword free and placing the scabbard carefully on the ground.

Hilda turned to the both of them. “Do either of you know what she even does in her free time, anyway? Because I’ve pretty much only ever seen her at meals, or during chores.”

Ignatz shrugged. "Prays, mostly."

With a snort, Hilda said, "Who prays when you can just ring up mom, and talk to god?"

"Apparently she does."

"Well -” Hilda was at a loss. “What the hell."

"I saw her talking to animals the other day," Raphael added.

Hilda gave him a flat stare. "You're joking."

"Nah, I swear! She was talking to a bird!"

“Is that even something Demeter kids do? Talk to animals?”

He shrugged.

"What kind of bird?" asked Hilda.

"I dunno." Raphael scratched at his broad chin. "An owl? It was up on a branch, and it looked like it was listening when she talked."

“What is she? A child of Athena now? Auuugh!!” Hilda let her head drop into her hands. Her voice mumbled against her palms. “Tell Claude I give up.”

“Tell Claude what now?” said a familiar voice beside her; he had returned from his sparring match.

“You win,” she groaned, dislodging her sunglasses so that she could rub at her eyes with the heels of her hands. “You’re right. Marianne’s an unknown entity. Forever. Mystery solved. You’re welcome.”

Claude patted her on the back. The side of his face was already blooming with a fresh bruise. “I’m sure we can get to the bottom of this. Now, move over, won’t you?”

Hilda made a face, and shuffled over.

Down in the arena, Marianne lost before either she or Lysithea could break a sweat. But rather than appear disheartened, Marianne seemed relieved at the outcome. She sheathed her sword, while Lysithea frowned down at her own hands then at Marianne, as though puzzled by something. When Manuela instructed them to shake hands, Marianne instead inclined her head in a weird bow, like the one Seteth had offered her upon her arrival at camp. Lysithea, utterly flummoxed, returned the gesture, but continued to shoot Marianne funny looks as they walked back to their seats.

It certainly wasn't the most invigorating sword-fighting Hilda had ever seen. That was still reserved for Petra when she was filled with battle-lust during a mission to the outside world -- a sight Hilda would never forget; it haunted her dreams. In a good way.

But while it wasn't a flashy show of strength and skill, there could be no doubt that Marianne had some skill with the blade. Lingering beneath the surface. Like looking at something at the bottom of a fast-flowing stream, it was distorted yet in plain sight.

Hilda opted to not mention anything, when Marianne returned to sit beside her. Instead offering enthusiastic praise -- which was taken up by Raphael -- and a high-five -- which was also taken up by Raphael, since Marianne still refused to touch people.

“You went easy on her,” Hilda said, loudly enough for Lysithea to hear. Lysithea glowered, but made no reply.

But Marianne only said, “She is very magically talented.”

Which wasn’t denying what Hilda had said at all.

Nothing at all remarkable happened over the course of the next week or two. Classes. Chores. More classes. More chores. Boring. Unless you counted cool-headed, snide Hubert screaming like a little girl during pegasus-riding training.

Hilda would have to make sure to actually give Minty some carrots for that.

Midway through the third week of camp, Hilda and the others gathered in the amphitheatre for some magic sparring lessons under the beady eye of the resident pedantic satyr and overall magic enthusiast, Hanneman. Hilda seated herself midway up the steps, confident that she wouldn’t be called upon for any demonstrations.

Sure, she had magic. But Hanneman always liked his magic big and loud. The kind where you flung explosions, and branches, and ice, or whatever at each other in the arena. Hilda’s kind of magic involved batting her eyelashes so effectively that the enemy just dropped their guard, leaving an excellent opening for her to kick them into the stratosphere. And for some inexplicable reason that magic wasn’t good enough for public demonstrations.

Not that Hilda was complaining. Far from it. She put her sunglasses on, propped her feet atop the step in front of her, and settled in for an afternoon snooze.

Of course, Hanneman called upon some of the Athena kids first. Then moved along to a few Hephaestus kids. The usual nonsense. Fire. Sparks. War magic. Scorched craters in the arena ground. Yawn.

But as the latest student to perform a demonstration was sitting back down, Hanneman turned his attention towards someone new.

"Miss Edmund," Hanneman said with a gesture for Marianne to stand beside him. "I understand you have some talent in earth magic."

Well, that was news to Hilda. The last time Hilda had seen Marianne perform magic, it had resulted in everything in a ten meter radius turning to withered ash. One look at Marianne’s face only confirmed it, however. She was doing that thing where she hunched up like a hermit crab hiding in its shell.

“I’m not sure if -” Marianne started to say, but Hanneman shook his horned and bespectacled head.

“None of that now. This isn’t a sparring match, so there’s no danger to you or anyone else.”

"But -"

"You cannot be exempt from everything, my dear," Hanneman added, scolding lightly. He waved for her to join him again.

Marianne hesitated. She looked over at Hilda, who flashed a feeble thumbs-up. That seemed to be all the persuasion Marianne needed, as though she would only do what Hilda approved of in this situation. Or perhaps as if she were hoping Hilda would save her.

Hilda did not realise it might have been the latter until it was far too late.

Marianne slouched to Hanneman's side. He directed her to face the others, so that she wilted beneath the full attention of the amphitheatre.

Gesturing towards their feet, he said, "No need to fear. I have known many children of Demeter during my time here. Just focus on the earth, and it will answer."

Her hands were clenched into fists at her side. She did not move. Her gaze darted from side to side, before finally she squeezed her eyes shut, and held out her hand.

Absolutely nothing happened. For a long time. Hilda could hear someone in the row behind her yawn. The birds were chirping happily away in the distance, until suddenly they weren't.

Hilda sat up straighter. The back of her neck prickled. An odd silence settled over the amphitheatre. Like sound-cancelling headphones. Like being plunged beneath water. A pressure rising up like the tide until it seized everything in sight.

And beneath them, a faint rumble.

"That's it," said Hanneman, encouraging yet calm. "Don't force it. Just ease the plants out, and they should grow."

Hilda had been around the magic of Demeter kids before. Hell, just last week she had convinced Mercedes to save her bacon with those flowers. This was nothing at all like that.

Marianne's eyes remained squeezed shut, as though she were anticipating the blow of an open hand. Her outstretched fingers trembled, and suddenly the earth erupted beneath her feet. Fissures split the surface with a sound like thunder, cracks extending in every direction. Some of the other students leapt to their feet, and scrambled back as the ground yawned open. It swallowed up columns, great chunks of marble and debris falling into a mephitic chasm that continued to widen.

Hilda grabbed another student, who almost went careening into the chasm, hauling him back onto solid rock. In the arena Hanneman was yelling. Marianne's face was screwed up in a sustained flinch. When he grabbed her by the shoulder, she jerked. And in a flash of eerie light, Hanneman was flung backwards. His body crashed into the side of a pillar, and the ground went still.

Plumes of dust distorted the air. People coughed and waved, trying to see through the murk. From here, Hilda could just make out Marianne with her hands lifted to her mouth in horror.

"Sorry!" she said, over and over. "I'm sorry!"

Marianne rushed over to Hanneman, reaching out to touch him, but stopping herself from doing so. His only response was to groan something wordless. Something dark matted his grey hair, and one of his curled horns had snapped, oozing red.

The dust began to settle, and with it silence. Everyone stared. Marianne seemed to shrink before their very eyes. Before anyone could speak, she turned and fled. The moment she was gone, pandemonium broke loose. A few of the students raced over to Hanneman, Mercedes foremost among them, her hands already aglow with a healing spell.

Claude looked at Hilda. "Child of Demeter, huh?"

Hilda pursed her lips. "Now's really not the time, Claude."

"On the contrary," he gestured to the gaping wound in the ground, splitting the amphitheatre nearly in twain. "I think now is the perfect time to be asking these questions."

A pillar crumbled and crashed to the ground. Hilda winced. “Okay. Yeah. Fine. But I’m going to go find her before we start debating.”

“Good luck! Try not to get swallowed up by another freak earthquake.”

Already, Mercedes was helping Hanneman to his feet. Or -- hooves. Same thing. Another student, a red-headed Athena kid by the name of Annette, was repairing his spectacles, and handing them over for him to don. Before anyone could notice her absence, Hilda slipped away in the ensuing chaos.

Outside of the amphitheatre, Marianne was nowhere to be seen. With a sigh, Hilda started off towards the woods.

When Hilda finally found her, Marianne was perched atop a branch halfway up a tree. She was talking quietly, but when Hilda approached, she fell silent. An extra set of eyes peered from the branches above her, wide and golden. An owl. Early evening shadows gathered around the woods, clustering around Marianne as though she were a magnet for twilight. She hugged her knees to her chest, and sat, completely still.

The owl took flight when Hilda drew too near. It vanished into the surrounding trees.

Hilda placed her hands on her hips, and craned her neck back to look up. “How the hell did you even get up there?”

There were no branches between the ground and the branch Marianne sat upon. And that branch was a good twelve feet in the air. Maybe more.

Marianne peered over her knees down at Hilda. “Why did you follow me?”

“Well, that seems like a weird question.” Hilda gestured at where Marianne sat. “Then again, you are halfway up a tree after having turned some of the amphitheatre into rubble, so. Y’know. If it walks like a duck and acts like a duck.”

Marianne stared. “Then,” she said slowly, “it climbs trees?”

Hilda couldn’t keep a snort of laughter at bay. “Yeah. Something like that.”

“That satyr -?” Marianne asked. “Is he -?”

“Who? Hanneman?” Hilda scoffed. “He’s fine. Satyr’s have notoriously thick skulls. It would take more than that to kill him.” She beckoned. “Now, can you come down? I’m going to get a crick in my neck.”

That only seemed to make Marianne curl in upon herself more. If anything, the branch looked further up now, though Hilda had no idea how that could have been possible.

"You shouldn't spend so much time around me. Bad things happen around people who spend too much time with me. And I -" Marianne swallowed. Then she mumbled against her knees, "I think you're nice."

"Well, that's awfully sweet of you. Really. But I think I'll be fine."

"Hilda -"

"Listen. I'm a half-blood. Apart from your demigod step-father, all the people you spent time with must've been mortal, right? I’m tougher than I look. Now, come down, and we can go back to your cabin. I won’t even drag you to the dining pavilion. In fact,” Hilda wheedled, her voice lilting into a sing-song tone. “I’ll go get you a platter and bring it over, so people don’t stare at you. If that’s what this whole fleeing into the woods thing is even all about.”

For a moment there was silence as the offer was considered. Nervously, Marianne tugged at the long sleeves of the shirt Hilda had given her. “Can you - Can you turn around? I don’t want to do it while you’re watching.”

Truth be told, Hilda had been anticipating needing to catch her on the jump down. But with a bemused shrug, Hilda turned around on the spot. Behind her, she could hear the faintest rustle of the wind through trees, or perhaps a draught flickering through torches along a dimly lit corridor. When she turned back around, Marianne was sitting on the ground in the exact same position she had been in while atop the branch. Knees curled up to her chest. Hands firmly chained about her ankles.

Hilda held out her hand as a silent offer to help Marianne to her feet. To her utter shock, Marianne actually took it. Her fingers were soft and very very cold.

Hilda tightened her grip, and hauled Marianne upright. “Geesh. You’re freezing.”

Immediately Marianne pulled her hand away, clenching it into a fist at her side. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine.” Hilda tilted her head towards the direction of camp. “C’mon. Let’s go back.”

#marianne von edmund #hilda valentine goneril #hildamari #fe3h #fire emblem three houses #roman writes #a study in hospitality

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mysmedrabbles · 5 years ago

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RFA + V as Senior Citizens

requested: by anonymous

a/n: this is?? a super cute ask?? totally seems like the sequel to an old MC lmao

warnings: n/a

-young mod alex

Jumin

-distinguished gentleman through and through

-he’s the type of man that ages gracefully, i hc him to look kind of like eugenes dad (for anyone who watches the try guys)

-he’s faithful to his spouse until the day he dies, and provides the best care for his children, especially supporting them no matter what their passions are

-even though physically the age still has taken a toll on him, the crows feet and laugh lines only prove that he’s led a good life

-he doesn’t believe in “old people activities”

-would rather die than play bingo, he does however enjoy the odd game of mahjong, and even the occasional board game, but only when he’s playing with his kids (however he’s ruthless and doesn’t go easy on them)

-he teaches the kids how to play chess

-his sense of fashion never changes, always sporting a crisp suit and his classic striped dress shirt

-he starts collecting italian shoes as a hobby once he reaches 60, and he’s never been so proud of a collection

-resigns as CEO and passes on the company not to his children, but to the most qualified prospect, changing his ideas on nepotism, now wholeheartedly believing in hard work and working your way up

-you can see the change in him post marrying you, as more and more magazines claim he’s gone “soft” in his old age, but in reality he doesn’t fear the public eye and although sometimes he struggles with emotional blocks, with you by his side he can handle anything

Jaehee

-she’s the anime grandma that chases the troublemakin’ young’uns out of her shop with a broom

-very wholesome old lady, she never gives up her cafe, and although Jumin offers to help her expand her business, she refuses, insisting that she wants it to be family owned

-she teaches your guys’ kids and grandkids how to bake, and at first she seems like she has no patience, trying to discipline them, but you catch her smiling at your first grandchild, a 3 year old boy who's hands are covered with flour as he claps vigorously, childish wonder as flour poofs in a magical cloud

-she always continues to love and support zens work and shows, but her interests start to move on once she reaches her late forties

-she had to stop drinking coffee because her blood pressure got dangerously high, so she moves on to drinking tea

-having a little garden in your backyard where the two of you grow different flowers and herbs to make and experiment with new tea leaves

-she’s sweet, but also retains her businesslike formality and becomes a respected member of the World for Women Entrepreneurs Organization, which she puts down as the first members of the RFA party every year

-cute old lesbian couple, going to every pride parade together and holding hands on the street because, even though she may have aged, her judo skills haven't

Yoosung

-sweet old man, the kind that will be there for every single family reunion, holiday, birthday and will spoil the kids rotten

-he buys a rocking chair to put on the porch, first ironically but he’s quick to change his mind, buying another one in order for the two of you to sit outside together, watching from the porch as your kids play in the yard

-he never loses his passion for cooking, and all the neighborhood kids, even if they aren't your own, line up for Grandpa Kims cooking

-the two of you essentially adopt the whole street of kids

-he stops dying his hair blonde, letting the brown grow back in

-he loves telling the story of how the two of you met, to the point where your kids will groan whenever he starts talking

-never really stops playing video games, and of course teaches all your guys’ kids how to play, however he gets extremely disappointed when your youngest chooses books over games (in a joking way)

-he’s the kind elder that might never really have “wisdom” but he’ll always make you feel better if you have a problem

-by the time the two of you reach 70, your house has become a place for stray animals and kids, not wanting anyone to feel the loneliness that he had when he was younger

Seven

-he never really gets past his trauma, although living with it becomes easier

-saeyoung never loses his childish sense of humor and happiness, making his the strangest elder on the block

-he’s the one all the kids want to have ice cream with

-he retires fairly early compared to the rest, saying that he needed time to focus on his family and on his life for once

-he ages well, but makes the biggest deal out of it when his hairline starts receding

-because of stress, his hair starts greying early, and he refuses to leave the bunker for a week straight, you having to coax his dramatic ass out by hiding all the HBC

-has crippling back pain and has to start using a cane by his mid forties. of course, everyone in the rya makes fun of him for it, but he just waves it threateningly at yoosung, laughing along

-takes daily walks with you to the park, over the lake and bridge, around the cherry blossom tree and back home

-he strives to be there for his children and grandchildren, loving and supporting them in a way his parents never did

-continues to play pranks and crack jokes throughout his life

-every wedding anniversary he decorates the bunker like a space station and you dance to every frank sinatra song ever recorded

-on your 60th wedding anniversary you take him to KARI (Korean Aerospace Research Institute) to look around, inspect the models, check calculations and try the zero gravity machine, and he cries

Zen

-does this man age? not necessarily

-he never stops acting, continuing to rise as televisions most popular actor, but in the end he moves back to theatre, where his passion truly lies

-you quit as his manager at some point to go follow your dreams, and he lets you know that he’s with you every step of the way no matter what

-he doesn’t become more humble as he ages, and can often be seen telling his kids about his amazing adventures from when he was younger

-his laugh lines do get incredibly deep, which he struggles with for a while until you finally step up and tell him that all it means is that he lived well, that he had a good time on this godforsaken planet and that he had a few good laughs

-the energy is broken when you poke your finger in his laugh line, giggling to yourself

-he loosens up on the strict diet, letting himself eat more sweets and fatty foods, but his stance on exercising stays the same

-the storyteller of the family, always calling the grandkids out to the backyard to tell them incredible stories of monsters and knights in shining armor and the beautiful princess

-domesticity out the roof

-doesn’t actually officially retire, but leaves the industry while he’s ahead, getting to enjoy his last few decades surrounded by a family he chose to make

-surprisingly he takes up crochet, likes the meticulous design and patience needed for it, even though he has none, its a good way to teach himself to be more patient

-refuses a cane and or walker his whole life and would “never be caught dead in one”

-at some point he lets his hair grow out all the way, not leaving the rat tail, rather just having long hair

-because of his good genes and extreme self care, he doesn’t lose much of his hair, to which he is grateful to. those wrinkles though....

- V, starts losing his sight because of age: ah shit here we go again

-he’s kind, the type of senior that will always help someone out, and picks up trash off of the ground

-volunteers at the local garden, helping with the sunflowers in particular

-never stops painting, insisting that he must paint you and any possible children at every stage of yours and their lives

-the trauma of Rikas abuse left him scarred, but he copes with it, going to therapy until the day he eventually dies

-cute old married couple number two, its impossible to go anywhere without hearing “V and his spouse,” the two of you are a package deal, his life would never have been the same without you, and you would never want to be anywhere else except besides him

-as similar of age as you guys may be to the RFA, the two of you absolutely adopt them, and as all your families expand, V makes it his mission to invite everyone Jumin and his spouse, Jaehee with hers etc etc and their respective children and children spouses,, grandchildren,,,

-he doesn’t talk about his past much, but is always willing to listen to the younguns problems and impart his knowledge

-the older he gets, the more sweaters he owns. is also partial to wearing suspenders over said sweaters

-he begins to fall in love with the environment the older he gets, ultimately starting multiple foundations to save the bees, oceans and various endangered species

-becomes a UN ambassador for a good few years, but resigns due to wanting to get back to his family and passions

-after marrying you he becomes quite content with his life, and he doesnt majorly change in any way

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androgynousblackbox · 5 years ago

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I just watched “About Ray” or “3 generations” movie, something I was kinda hyped about since I hear it was going to be about some trans guy, but boooooy, did I hated that fucking movie with all my soul and I am going to tell you why: -Their safety regarding binding is all out of whack because first time we see the dude binding? Ace bandages, which is fucking bad already because his family can afford a nice fucking place, it has been 5 o 6 years since Ray came out but in all this time apparently they couldn’t be bothered to get him an actual binder? And when Ray does get an actual binder he is seen EXERCISING with it? Despite how that can really fuck up your lung capacity and the movie makes a big deal of how he trains completely alone, so he wouldn’t have that much dysphoria to actually need a binder on those moments, especially considering that later on the house he goes around the house without binder without a single problem, basically making this “but he NEEDS to bind!!” kinda pointless and very dangerous if some trans guy assumes you can just do that. -Also, either this movie wants me to believe that there are NO other trans people or trans communities in the entirety of New York, which is fucking absurd as it is, or they won’t ever related to the trans community they do know because Ray think “it’s full of freaks”. Like there is this scene where the mom wants him to go to a reunion of something and Ray he doesn’t want to go, and like what the fuck am I supose to take from that? That other trans people are weird but Ray is not, because he just wants to be a “normal guy with a normal life”, unlike those freaks, or that Ray has some serious internalized transphobia that goes entirely uncalled for the entire movie? Like, you know how much of the angst would go away if Ray could just talk to other trans people who know exactly what he is going through and how to reaffirm him? Community can be life saving for many trans people. To this movie to just throw that like it doesn’t matter or it’s not worth it seems just dismissive and unnecesary. To frame it as “of course Ray does’t want to relate to other trans people because he wants to be nOrMaL” is such an insulting way to look at it. -The grandma is a straight up terf, insisting for a big chunk of the movie that Ray is just a lesbian, that they can find “alternative solutions” to transitioning (which is code for converstion therapy), consistently misgendering him without anyone calling her out on it or telling her that is fucked up, treating it more so like a tiny annoyance from a stubborn grandma, calling transitioning a mutilation (even though Ray was 16 and just considering taking T, not do any surgery?), comparing it with female genital mutilation and talking big shit about how she has worked soooooo hard for little girls to be whatever they wanted to be and now her “grandaughter” was a boy, like it was such a cruel tragedy. The resolution to this, though? Nothing. The grandma just got stuck on a gas station and apparently that was enough to change her mind about everything, because the next scene she is already totally accepting of her grandson. She doesn’t even apoligize for the disgusting, horrible things she said, she is just like “you are man in our family” and that is enough. -The mom, despite having spent 5 O 6 YEARS talking with doctors, psychologists and pressumably other trans people, despite Ray having come out to her about how he has felt like a boy his entire life, STILL misgenders him, STILL doubt his identity, STILL refuses to give him HRT and STILL acts like it’s such a tragedy because “i have to grieve for my daughter”, like WHY CIS PEOPLE ARE OBSSESED WITH THAT NARRATIVE. Why the fuck they always frame it like “my kid died, uwu, poor me, I suffer so much”. Like news flash, I don’t care how tough is for you to understand your kid was never who you thought him to be, even if it has been 5 O 6 YEARS fucking already, your grieving bullshit is nothing compared to what your kid is going through when you make him feel like he just killed someone just for being himself. Honestly fuck the mom. I know the movie wants me to see her as such a good mom because she is oh so supportive and she tries, but after 5 O 6 YEARS, you have no fucking excuse to still misgender your own fucking kid and still doubt them. -”It’s like his brain is disconnected from his vagina. It’s like a cruel joke” is an actual line that is actually in the movie, coming from the mother to try to “convince” the father to sign the HRT paper, and like WHO THE FUCK THOUGHT THAT WAS SOMETHING GOOD TO PUT ON. Being trans is not a cruel joke, and even if some individual trans people feel that way, that is NOT something you should use to describe transness as a whole, holy shit. ESPECIALLY NOT COMING FROM THE MOTHER OF A TRANS KID, FUCK. -Speaking of the mother, I absolutely fucking hate her story because SHE is the center of all, she and her shitty drama, she and her shitty problems, and Ray has BARELY anything to do on a movie that is about him. The movie is not about any trans guy coming to terms with who he is and his family learning to accept him as such, it’s about this mother and how hard is for her to talk with her ex who she cheated on for the sake of her kid. -Ray has no agency and barely a personality on a movie that is about him. He is merely the catalist for everyone’s else development. And what little we do know about him? Don’t like him. Like he has this video that is fucking pointless because it’s never shown on it’s entirety, where he talks about this girl he likes, and like does she know she was being filmed? Did she gave her consent? For who is this video? To publish online? Because if so, publish a video with images from a girl that didn’t consent to be on that video only to declare how much you want to be her boyfriend is a major creep move. But also, that ended in shit? Like the two of them just share one single moment in which she misgender him and the next moment Ray is saying to his friends “I would hit that, but I don’t love her” because that is a sure fine way to make me like your male character, except no, it doesn’t and I don’t like it. Like if the idea was to show he was getting over her or that he doesn’t want to reveal how much he is in love, I am sure there were less gross ways to go about it. Besides, what I am supose to take from that? That Ray talks like that because “he is one of the boys”? That is not cute. -Speaking of shit that goes fucking nowhere, there is a guy the mom has a one night stand and the only reason it exist is so the mom can ask this guy about if he wouldn’t prefer to have a vagina instead of a penis. Yeah, I don’t know why either. The guy legit doesn’t even have a name. There is one scene where the guy is shyly trying to talk to her only to be completely ignored and the next scene there are awake on his apartment, and then poof, nothing fucking happens. That whole shit was just fucking weird. Like sure, somehow I know this was meant to show the mom SOMEHOW trying to come to terms with Ray’s desire for transition (I hope at least, unless I am supose to take as a quirky trait she just randomly ask guys if they want to have other genitalia), but A. Make no fucking sense and B. That is fucking weird. -Also, maybe this is because I know this is a cis woman on a trans role or something, but I didn’t believe the performance of the lady who played Ray at all. Literally at no point I was abled to buy it. -To finalize, this movie sucks, it’s just another example of a movie that is supposedly about trans people but is really in fact about the cis people who are so affected by the transition thing, and how this is so hard on them and how they can’t understand and how brave and good they are for still accepting the trans person, like The Danish Girl, that I also hated, and the only thing it did is make me wish so hard there was a quirky teenage romantic movie about trans people, because this “trans only exist in drama or as a joke on itself” is boring as shit.

#andro is venting #seriously don't fucking watch this shit is awful #like even taking away all i just said this movie is such a fucking drag #it just goes on and on and on with bullshit you don't care about and it ends

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disappearinginq · 5 years ago

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The Electric Boogaloo

This is a very rare political (sort of) post for me, so feel free to scroll on by. I don’t know how many people in the US know what the phrase “electric boogaloo”, but it’s a reference to an expected (and some believe impending) civil war. It’s kinda terrifying, but I am a dark humor sort of person, and I must share with people who may not be keeping up on the current state of affairs with our military versus our president.

Here’s the deal: everyone knows that the President of the US in the head honcho of the military. What most people don’t know is that there is a serious rift growing between the US Navy and the federal government, and it reads like a goddamn soap opera, and I must share because it’s my former ship leading the charge and I am so proud of those little shits.

Set the stage: COVID-19 has disabled a huge chunk of the world. It’s not a secret, every news cast is about how more people are sick and more people are dead and the general seagull death spiral of society on a whole. Reports are in about how the Theodore Roosevelt has cases onboard, and they’re docking in Guam. No secrets, public knowledge.

Several days go by and a letter from the CO, Captain Crozier, is shown to the media openly begging for Big Navy to do something in support or sailors will die unnecessarily. It reveals nothing of things that aren’t already widely known. He asks that the sick be allowed to get off the boat to do an actual quarantine in the empty hotels on the island so that they limit the spread of the virus because on a Navy vessel, you’re lucky to have six inches of personal space, never mind the 6 feet. These ships can have up to 5000 people on them, with three doctors (and that’s pushing it). There are no beds in medical. You serve sick time in your own bed, surrounded by 50 of your shipmates at any given time. Big Navy has decided to take their sweet ass time with a rapidly spreading virus, and basically tells him “we’re looking into available options” and then crickets.

Thanks to the media getting a hold of it, Big Navy is shamed into providing aid. In less than a day after the letter finds it’s way to the media and the American people, POOF. The sick are offloaded, quarantined, and given medical help. The majority of the crew remains onboard.

Cue the Electric Boogaloo lead in: First reports are Big Navy (the bureaucratic long arm of the Navy that decides morale is low and therefore forbids sailors to grow beards, and discharges anyone with a skin condition that prevents them from shaving every day, but separate issue) says that while they were unhappy that Crozier went outside the chain of command, likely nothing will happen to him. Next thing we know, Crozier is relieved of duty, in the dead of night. Every crew member onboard the boat meets him as he is departing, some in uniform, some in civvies, all standing at attention until he departs the boat, where he is saluted off and literally cheered by hundreds of men and women while they chant his name. This video also makes it’s way on to social media. Social media is trending with #IstandwithCaptainCrozier. Big Navy sends a fucking Admiral to the boat to take over - this is 1) either that Admiral done fucked up hard or 2) they need that level of pull to hush everything up and Big Navy things extra stars = more obedience.

So now the shit show really begins. The Secretary of the Navy - SECNAV - is a newly appointed Trump crony who has a whopping total of 7 years in the Navy back in the 80′s and has literally been a pencil pusher since then. He flied alllll the way down to Guam to deliver an absolutely inspiring speech where he basically calls all the sailors onboard a bunch of whiny bitches, curses them out multiple times, and calls Crozier - remember, their beloved CO - too naive or too stupid to be in charge of a carrier. If you would like to listen to it, here is the link (I love listening to the crew’s reactions).

https://taskandpurpose.com/news/modly-theodore-roosevelt-audio

The SECNAV stayed on the boat for less than 30 minutes, 15 of which was spent reaming out the crew, and then left without addressing a single concern.

Shocker of shockers, the audio gets uploaded to the media. The outcry is amazing. Anyone who defended him before is stunned into silence that this man, who looks like the villain from Billy Madison, has the balls to go to a warship and bitch them out - not about violating OPSEC - but for embarrassing him. The awkward position they put him in having to actually do his job. Congress and Senate members comment “I’ll be surprised if he lasts the night” - I have no idea if they meant he was gonna get lynched (which, to be honest, I would not have been surprised at) or fired.

The course of Monday and the SECNAV’s defense is better told in bullet points:

- “I stand by every word, even the swears”

- “I didn’t call him stupid or naive, I meant he purposely leaked the letter”

- “I have the highest regard for Captain Crozier, am I am sorry for the hurt that my words have caused”

- “Please stop sending death threats”

- “I quit”

Yo, this bitch was straight up online bullied into quitting and he was supposed to be charge of one of the largest military branches the United States has.

Now, one might think this is the end of it. Nope! So here’s the shit leading up to this - the secretary of defense retires - a man named Mad Dog Mattis, who’s famously quoted “be polite, be professional, but have a plan to kill everyone you meet” (amongst others) left his position with a public letter denouncing Trump’s treatment of our long standing allies. Yeah. The guy who talked about having plans to kill people quits over morality. The SECNAV before Modly (guy who just got bullied out by online harassment and public calls for his death) was fired because he refused to back Trump’s order to pardon the war criminal Eddie Gallagher, a former SEAL who was turned in by his own guys and called ‘evil’.

So this is fun now, right? Modly fires Crozier because he’s mad that he was embarrassed in front of the President and the country (Trump says he wouldn’t have fired Modly if he hadn’t resigned, because he didn’t think he was in the wrong), going against the Navy’s Top Brass (the top Admiral Gilday who is the CNO, and miltary’s top general, Milley, chairman of JCOS). Trump’s administration overturns the Navy’s conviction of Gallagher because “he’s a good guy”.

“Mr. Modly has become a vehicle for the president. He basically has completely undermined, throughout the TR [the Theodore Roosevelt] situation, the uniformed leadership of the Navy and military leadership in general.” - Admiral Milley in a NYT article concerning Modly’s address to the crew.

The article concludes with “The Trump Administration’s handling of the crisis aboard the Roosevelt reflects a growing divide between senior uniformed commanders and their civilian bosses.”

The conclusion I draw in this HYAH!SHITSHOW: I can’t believe the lynchpin for the revolution is my old goddamn boat, and I miss it by a scant few years.

And, just in case you don’t believe me about the Billy Madison comparison:

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alindakb · 5 years ago

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Letters to my Parents - Thursday 26 September 1991 - by Alinda

Thursday 26 September 1991

Dear mom and dad,

I hate Malfoy. I really hate him. I never believed I would meet someone I would hate more than Dudley, but I was so wrong. He tries to sit next to me in every class and keeps hitting my right arm when he makes notes. He says it’s the only way he can write properly and that I should stay out of his way, but how am I supposed to do that? He keeps pushing me to the left side of the tables and taking the seat next to me so our arms keep bumping into each other.

And he keeps talking about how good he is in Quidditch and flying, ever since the notice for our flying lessons was posted on the notice board. He complains all the time that it’s unfair that he’s not allowed his own broom and that he’s not allowed to try out for the Quidditch house team. And don’t get me started about all the stories of how he narrowly escapes helicopters. And after every story he has to remind everyone that I don’t have my own broom and how I’m going to make a fool of myself in front of the Gryffindor’s, shaming the Slytherin house even more.

Malfoy also makes fun of me every morning when I don’t receive any mail, reminding me that I don’t have any friends or family that care about me. He receives daily packages from his home with sweets and other treats that he shares with the others, except me of course, because I’ve not earned them.

On Wednesday, the day before our flying lesson I talked about it with Hermione. We still are spending every afternoon together in the library, doing our homework. She’s the only person talking to me. I’ve been afraid to spend more time with most of the Gryffindor’s because I’m afraid Nott will hurt me. I think Ron is disappointed that I’m ignoring him, but I don’t want him to get hurt because of me. And when Nott or Malfoy make fun of me in class, he laughs just like the others. So, I’m also not sure if he would be a good friend to me. Hermione is the only one that won’t laugh. She just looks very angry every time something happens.

Hermione was also afraid of the flying lesson. She had tried to learn all about it by reading a book called Quidditch Through the Ages. She gave me tips that might help, like how to hold the broom and what not to think about when in the air. And never look down when you’re afraid.

The flying lesson is thought by Madam Hooch. She has yellow eyes like a hawk. We had to go stand next to a broom and hold out our hand above the broom and say up. My broom jumped into my hand at once, I and Malfoy were the only ones that managed that. Madam Hooch gave me a friendly smile and I felt proud of myself. Next, we got to mount the brooms and Malfoy got told that he was holding his broom wrong. He complained about that to Nott, saying that Hoochy had no idea what she was talking about.

Before we got a chance to lift off, something happened to Neville. I think he lifted up too soon and he started rising higher and higher above the ground. Neville was as white as a ghost and started to slip off his broom. He fell down and broke his wrist. If Neville continues like this, he’ll be a regular at the hospital wing before the first month of school is over. Madam Hooch took him to the hospital wing and threatened us that we would be expelled if we would fly on our brooms.

As soon as Madam Hooch was out of sight Malfoy and Nott started laughing and making fun of Neville. One of the Gryffindor girls told them to shut up, and that made Parkinson snap at her. I was afraid they were going to fight, but then Malfoy picked up a glass ball from the ground and said it was the stupid thing Longbottom’s gran had sent him. Ron told him to give it to him, but Malfoy refused and said he would leave it in a tree. Ron yelled at him to give it back. And then Malfoy got on his broom and took off. He hovered level with the topmost branches of an oak and called for Ron to come and get it. Ron took his broom and was planning to take off when Hermione pulled on his arm and told him he couldn’t, that he would get them all in trouble. But Ron pushed her to the side and flew into the air after Malfoy. But Malfoy was a better flyer than Ron, so he moved away from him quickly, manoeuvring like a practice flyer. He smiled while moving around, lighting up his whole face. And Ron just became redder and redder while he tried to catch up with Malfoy. After a while, Malfoy threw the glass ball high into the air and streaked back toward the ground. He landed with grace and stepped off his broom like it was nothing. Ron stumbled to the ground next to him, but I wasn’t really looking at him, and Malfoy noticed that my eyes were on him and shouted at me to stop staring with my stupid face. When Madam Hooch came back she cancelled the rest of the lesson and told us we will continue next week. That saddened me because I wanted to try to fly like Malfoy had done. It looks like it’s a lot of fun.

That night Malfoy was bragging in the dormitory about how he was better at flying than the Weasel, that’s what he calls Ron. Nott kept making amazed sounds about how he couldn’t believe how stupid Longbottom was, not even capable of flying a broom as a full-blood was just a decrease. I tried not to listen to them, but it was hard. And then Goyle said that it was worse to see how I couldn’t stop staring at Malfoy, making them all turn on me. Asking me if I liked what I saw, stating I was a poof and should keep my eyes to myself. Malfoy threatened to hex me if he caught me looking at him again. I tried to tell them I’m not like that, that they have nothing to worry about, but they wouldn’t listen.

Last Saturday I wandered around the school by myself, just like the weekend before. I’ve been afraid to join the Gryffindor’s because of what Nott would do. The bruise on my abdomen had only just started fading away. And the Slytherin’s don’t want me to hang out with them, so I’ve been spending the weekends by myself, exploring the castle. I checked out the trophy room last week and found out that you, dad, where a seeker when you went to school. I’ve been reading Quidditch through the Ages and it sounds like an amazing sport. Maybe I’ll learn how to play it one day and maybe I’ll be just as good as you.

But while I was wondering around the castle I ran into Hermione and we decided to wander around together. We got totally lost, having no idea how to get back to the great hall in time for dinner. And then we ran into Nott, Goyle and Crabbe. They made fun of us, saying the mudblood should give up right now, that a poof like me would never be able to satisfy her. Hermione was almost in tears because of their mean words and I told them to shut up. And that felt really good until Goyle grabbed me and pushed me against the wall. He took out his wand and placed it against my face, threatening that he would hex the hell out of me. Hermione was screaming for him to stop and Crabbe and Nott just laughed. As soon as Goyle lowered his wand I ducked and yelled to Hermione to run. We sprinted down the hall, not looking if the boys were following us. I just knew we had to get out of there before they would hurt us. We swung around a doorpost and galloped down a corridor until we ripped through a tapestry and found ourselves in a hidden passageway. We hurtled along it and came out near our Charms classroom.

I thought we lost them until we heard noise coming from the passageway. We sprinted away again to the end of the corridor and slammed into a door that was locked. I thought that was it, I was finally going to get beaten to death, but luckily Hermione is a smart witch and she knew a spell to open the door. It’s really simple, just a whispering Alohomora will open any door. We went inside and I pressed my ear against to door to listen. I could hear Nott and Goyle run by, shouting at each other, wondering where we went. And then the hallway became quiet. Hermione was tugging on my robe by then and I told her it would be okay, that they had passed. What I didn’t know yet was that we were in the forbidden corridor on the third floor and that it was occupied by a monstrous dog with three heads. It was growling thunderous. At that moment I didn’t care that Nott and Goyle were still close, if it was a choice between getting beaten or getting eaten, I’ll go for being beaten. But Nott and Goyle were gone when we came out of the corridor. We ran away from it and only stopped until we reached a portrait of a fat lady on the seventh floor.

For a while Hermione and I just stood there, catching our breaths. I asked her what the hell is wrong with this school, keeping a thing like that locked up in a corridor. But Hermione snapped at me, telling me to use my eyes the next time because that dog had been standing on a trapdoor, that it was obviously guarding something. And that made me remember the package that Hagrid had taken from Gringotts just before the break-in. Maybe the mystery package from vault seven hundred and thirteen is hidden underneath the trapdoor. Just meeting the three-headed dog was already a big adventure and I would love to have another one.

Oh, and this is also when I discovered the location of the Gryffindor common room, the portrait of the fat lady is their entrance. Hermione made me swear not to tell anyone since I’m not supposed to know. And I won’t, she’s my only friend in this school, I would never want to get her into trouble.

It feels good to have a secret together with Hermione that nobody else knows about. It makes me feel a little less alone, it makes all the teasing a little better to bear. I still wish they would stop, all of them. And I’m scared of the looks Nott and Crabbe keep giving me like they are waiting for the perfect opportunity to finish what they started in the hallway next to the Charms classroom this Saturday. Otherwise, this week has been the same as the ones before. Malfoy and Nott make fun of me whenever they can. Crabbe and Goyle trip me multiple times a day. I hide away during lunch and in the library after lessons, doing my homework together with Hermione. And when it’s time for dinner I wait till the Slytherin boys have left before I even start, because they would steal my food if I don’t. And of course, I’m not allowed in the dormitory showers until they are all done in there, because they’ve decided that I’m a poof and cannot be trusted around them. And only because I was fascinated about how much joy Malfoy was experiencing when he was flying his broom. It just made me jealous, nothing else. It wasn’t like I fancy him or anything.

Today we had our second flying lesson and I finally made it into the sky. When I kicked off and was floating in the sky, only a meter from the ground I knew I was going to love this. We aren’t allowed to go any higher yet, but I can’t wait to feel the air rush through my hair when I’m allowed to fly more. I’m sure I’ll be smiling just like Malfoy had when he was racing through the sky. It all feels so natural to be on a broom, to hover above the ground. I don’t think I need to get taught how to fly, it’s easy and wonderful. And maybe I’ll be able to prove myself to the other boy’s when I’m finally good at something. Maybe it will make them treat me as a person worthy of their time.

I love you and miss you terribly,

Harry James Potter

(find the entire story at https://archiveofourown.org/works/15351042/chapters/35620452)

#Harry Potter #harry in slytherin #bullied harry #fanfic #Draco Malfoy #letters #drarry #AlindasStories

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cougarforcenty · 6 years ago

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questions to fall...

a/n: how’s everybody’s noah situation? mine simply continues to spiral further + further. which is fine… it’s fine. more fic is the obvious solution. feedback is lovely.

summary: noah + close female friend are in love with one another but can’t deal with or confront that reality. the questions that are referenced in this fic can be found here.

word count: 3575

warnings: none

You glance at your phone for the umpteenth time. You realize you’re distracted right away and fix your eyes back onto the blank screen of your laptop.

But nothing is coming to you, your mind is ostensibly empty. Not a fragment of a thought of a morsel of a beginning of anything is being sparked.

You’ve got no ammo, no juice. You’re creatively and inspirationally depleted.

You mutter an obscenity under your breath as you cover your face with one hand and push the laptop away with the other.

You hear your front door open and don’t even look up in that direction because you already know who it is.

“Why must you let yourself in if you know I’m here?” You complain, still glaring at the laptop.

You’re in a real mood. You knew it before but you’re certain of it now as his presence descends upon your apartment. You always love to see him but often he’s a reminder more and more of things you haven’t come to terms with.

“You gave me a key so I would use it, did you not?” Noah asks rhetorically, kicking off his shoes and placing a takeout bag on the coffee table. He plops down on the sofa next to you.

You make a face at him.

“You’re a ball of sunshine tonight, huh?” he questions, studying you for a moment before his eyes flick over to the laptop screen.

You lower the screen on instinct, averting it from his eyes. He always does that and you’re always ready. He’s read your work. Hell, he’s SEEN your work but you’re so skittish about letting anyone read any of your scripts before they’re completely done and properly polished.

It’s pure instinct even with a blank page.

“Well, you can’t be cranky for too long because I brought you green curry and seaweed salad,” Noah explains as he reaches down and unbags the cartons of fragrant food.

It all smells delicious but you’re still preoccupied with how irritated you are that none of your prior ideas seem remotely good enough to attempt for your next script.

“I’m not hungry.”

Noah leans back as he pops a dumpling into his mouth. He eyes you silently while chewing.

“What?”

The word just slips out as this is the first time since he arrived that you’re actually looking at him. No matter how much time you spend together and how many years you’ve known him, sometimes his eyes on you still catch you off guard. It always surprises you when that happens, even still.

“What’s wrong?” he questions gently.

“Nothing.”

“Tell the truth.”

You sigh and lean your head back and squeeze your eyes shut for a second.

“I have no ideas, I’m tapped out.”

“I highly doubt that,” Noah counters, plucking another dumping from the carton with the chopsticks. He balances the carton on his lap as he extends the dumpling toward you, his other hand acting as a barrier underneath the hanging food.

You look at it and back at him.

“Open your mouth,” he instructs smoothly.

You relent.

“I’ve never once known you to have any shortage of ideas. Your mind is like the most expansive landscape that exists,” Noah responded. He reaches toward your coffee table to swap out cartons and starts devouring pad thai.

“All the ideas I had before seem dumb or derivative now.”

You set your laptop down and open up a pair of chopsticks and start picking out the carrots in the carton he’s holding.

“That doesn’t matter,” Noah assures you. “Your approach to the story is what makes it stylistically your own. Which also prevents it from being dumb.”

“One idea I was contemplating seems so trivial and ridiculous once I revisited it.”

“What is it?”

You watch him chew and don’t respond.

“You don’t want to tell me,” he continues with a small chuckle.

You’ve picked all you wanted out of his pad thai and settle for the seaweed salad he brought you.

“You know how writers are: neurotic and sensitive.”

You’re chewing when you notice his attention no longer predominately on his food.

“Is that mine?” Noah questions, casually gesturing to the oversized gray sweatshirt you’re wrapped in, your hands barely peeking out of the sleeves enough for you to hold the chopsticks properly.

His assessing eyes halt at where the bottom of the sweatshirt falls over your bare thighs.

“Yeah,” you shrug. “You don’t need to have clothing you refuse to properly wear anyways.”

“You know I like to be ventilated.”

On the tail of that response, you silently realize it is hard to reconcile things like this; him feeding you or you wearing his clothing. It was so seamlessly and easily apart of the intricate makeup of your dynamic.

When you really stop and think about it for too long you realize why people assume you two are together. You couldn’t actually blame how your circle of friends would roll their eyes when someone new had to clarify whether or not you two were a couple.

It hadn’t always been this way, you two juggling this blatant and palpable type of intimacy.

You had run in the same circles for some time and would have considered the other an acquaintance like many actors and photographers and models and writers and musicians who all know the same people, but about 18 months ago you two were at a party and randomly bonded over shared perspectives and quickly became damn near inseparable.

“Hey,” Noah interrupts your thoughts. “Where’d you go?”

“Hmm, nowhere.”

“You went to the idea,” Noah responds. “Tell me.”

You squint your eyes at him suspiciously.

“Believe me, it will help.”

You sigh.

“In the past couple of years, there’s this research that has been getting a lot of attention regarding how people fall in love and if it’s possible that a formulaic method actually exists that breeds a high likelihood of that specific outcome,” you explain as Noah listens intently.

“Yeah, I’ve heard of it… the series of questions?” He inquires.

“Right. There’s a number of questions, at varying levels that both people answer and then they’re supposed to stare into each other’s eyes for four minutes,” you continue on. “Then poof, they’re in love or whatever.”

“You don’t believe that’s an effective way?” Noah questioned, clearly getting a read of your dismissiveness toward the general framework of the concept.

“Are you serious?” You can’t help but laugh. “No, it’s ridiculous. I was literally going to expound on all the flaws within that premise and the dysfunction that would likely result in these makeshift couples because of it.”

“But think about it, the very basis of it is transparency and understanding. There’s a level of disclosure that takes place. This makes people feel close and connected, it builds trust.”

“That happens in all relationships though, not just romantic ones.”

“At the core of it, everyone just wants to be understood and feel seen, the process of the questions helps to aid that at rapid speed. The prolonged eye contact takes away the verbal thoughtfulness of answering questions and deals with pure energy.”

“Of course your hopeless romantic ass would believe this works,” you lament rolling your eyes.

“And I am not at all surprised that your cynicism prevents you from seeing how it does.”

“I’m not a cynic,” you defend. “I’m a pragmatist. I see how messy and flawed and dysfunctional people are, we’re complicated beings. I think it takes more than some silly questions to truly cross the love plane.”

“Sometimes it’s not complicated at all. Sometimes it’s actually the simplest things that make people fall in love.”

There’s something visceral about the way he says it that makes you pause. Or maybe it’s the intention in his voice or the thoughtful expression on his face.

“Give me your phone,” you respond.

He retrieves it from his pant pocket without hesitation and hands it to you.

“I need to draft that as your next tweet, Aristotle,” you tease him as he snatches the phone back.

“You should have been a comedian.”

“I’m much too serious for that,” you respond good-naturedly.

It strikes you that this may be the first time you and he have discussed love in such frank terms. In a way that isn’t rooted in a conversation about one of his exes or yours. But as the immense blistering esoteric entity that it so often can be.

You suddenly recall the one time a mutual friend of yours had made a joke about Noah being in love with you, it was the first time you’d heard that but not the last.

You questioned why he would even think that. He said it was clear by the way Noah looks at you.

It’s not as if you haven’t noticed it, it’s just that he looked at everyone with a certain type of open affection and endearment.

“So let’s try it,” Noah says suddenly.

So completely in your own head, you have no idea what he’s talking about.

“Try what?”

“The love experiment,” he responds.

You laugh.

“What’s the matter? You seem pretty certain it’s illogical and won’t actually work,” Noah pointed out innocently. “What’s the harm then?”

“You’re being serious?”

Something about just the prospect of even attempting this with him gives you butterflies, despite your intrinsic doubts.

“Yup,” Noah responds as he starts pulling up the questions on his phone.

“Alright well, I need coping aides,” you lament as you place the food on the coffee table and get up to head to the kitchen.

You think you can feel his eyes on the back of your legs and ass as you walk away but you can’t be sure.

You return to the couch with a bottle of red wine and two wine glasses.

Tucking your legs underneath his massive billowing sweatshirt, you cradle your glass, hand him his and silently steel yourself for whatever this bit of bonding will reveal.

“I bet we’ve already discussed a number of these in roundabout ways in casual conversation,” you point out as you sip your wine.

“It’s a possibility,” Noah says. “Ready?”

You nod your head.

“Number one: if you could have dinner with anyone, dead or alive, who would it be?”

“You go first, I have to think,” you say.

“Easy,” Noah responds. “Osho.”

“What if he was in the midst of one of his self-dictated vows of silence? You’d be fucked.”

“It would be quite an experience either way. You?”

“Can I have two answers? One alive, one dead.”

“Sure.”

“Oprah.”

“Naturally,” Noah remarks as he sips his wine.

“Then anyone who was wrongfully convicted and executed on death row.”

He doesn’t respond for a moment, just absorbs your answer and nods.

“Wow.”

You pluck the phone from his hands and read the next question.

“Do you have a secret hunch about how you will die?”

“Oh definitely, an accident.”

You’re taken aback by his response, it almost sends a chill down your spine.

“What do you mean, what kind of accident?”

“Bungee jumping, scuba diving, scaling the side of a building, jumping out of a plane, something like that,” Noah says unemphatically.

Your anxiety is rising just hearing him talk about it so cavalierly.

“That daredevil shit isn’t worth your life, Noah. You need to just let that be.”

“Ah, things happen. I can go outside and get hit by a bus as well. That doesn’t mean I stay inside.”

Your hand covers your face momentarily as you shake your head.

“You stress me out.”

“I’ll try not to die anytime soon.”

“Don’t even joke like that,” you exclaim, your hand coming up to hit his shoulder.

“Answer,” he laughs at your reaction.

“I do not have a hunch,” you respond after a pause. “I don’t like to think about it.”

“Because it scares you?” Noah questions softly, his eyes piercing.

“Oh, we’re doing follow up questions as well?” You lament sarcastically.

“Yes.”

“Sure it scares me. Human beings have a hard time conceptualizing things we don’t have a true understanding of or reference for. But I also know that something will transpire similarly to being born that is incredibly beautiful and shifting. The part I don’t like to think about is the pain and fear leading up to the moment it finally happens. That’s what feels agonizing to contemplate. So how isn’t something I like to consider.”

The answer kind of emotionally winds you after you’re done supplying it.

Noah nods and then reaches his hand out and gently rubs your shoulder and touches the side of your face in wordless comfort. You hand the phone to him.

“If you could wake up tomorrow having gained one quality or ability, what would it be?”

“Easy,” you exclaim. “I’d want to have the ability to speak and understand every language that exists.”

“Pfft, lofty,” Noah teases. “I’d just want to feel well rested every time I wake up, no matter what amount of sleep I’d actually gotten.”

“Hmm, that’s a good one.”

You take the phone back.

“Oh, this is a perfect one. For you specifically,” you lament as you began to read. “What roles do love and affection play in your life?”

He chuckles.

“Why for me specifically?”

“Because everyone loves you and you’re mighty affectionate,” you explain simply.

At that moment, as if on its own silent accord and in complete conjunction with the question, you notice that one of your bare legs is draped over his lap, with his hand grasping your ankle.

You honestly don’t even recall how it happened. The ease with which you two slipped into tactile intimacy was sometimes jarring and unintentional. Yet it happened so naturally that you wouldn’t even register it until the moment had passed.

So in truth, you couldn’t be shocked that 90% of your friends thought, at the very minimum, you two had slept together. Even though you absolutely haven’t.

There was one night were you two crossed a line but it was a year ago and you’d rationalized it away.

You were both drunk and sometimes random things just happen.

A bunch of you had been at a party in the Palisades, celebrating the book release of a mutual friend. You noticed he had disappeared and when you went to retrieve him, you found him in a massive closet staring at his phone. You weren’t sure he even heard you when you said his name until he wordlessly grabbed your wrist and pressed you against the nearest shelf.

It was a blissful five minutes of mind-melting kissing and touching. He pretty much undid whatever pretenses you may have had within the space of that moment, to the point where you would have thrown caution to the wind completely.

But a tiny part of you wondered what caused it, what was the catalyst and if it was really even about YOU and him, to begin with, or whatever was on his phone.

So you stopped him and when he tried to bring it up the next day, you called it a mistake and shut him down.

In your mind, it’s just safer that way. There’s less messiness if you two keep your relationship platonic. If you get jealous, you don’t have a right to; you have to keep it to yourself.

There isn’t a danger of losing him completely if you two have a wretched breakup.

You need him too much to even chance that.

You also have a “no getting involved with any actors” rule. You’ve had it the moment you became a screenwriter. The talent and you don’t mix that way, or at least shouldn’t. Their roles were much more overt and public, yours more private. You felt secure within that logic.

“Everyone doesn’t love me,” Noah says, breaking through your thoughts as he downs his wine. “I’m quite obnoxious to some.”

“Hmm, the masses love you though,” you lament. “You’re a likable figure.”

“Well, thanks,” he says with that playful candor he so effortlessly displays on a whim.

“You didn’t answer the question.”

“They play significant roles, without love and being able to express that love via affection, human beings, and the world by extension would feel quite dreary and rather fleeting.

“I agree.”

“You can’t take my answer.”

“I’d say they have significant roles in my life, but perhaps manifest differently. I think I’m maybe more verbal with my affection with certain people.”

“Really?”

“You seem doubtful.”

“Well, you do have a way with words. That’s obvious. But I wouldn’t say you’re overly generous with your verbal proclamations of affection.”

“Maybe not the way you are,” you counter.

“That sounds like a dig,” he observes, squeezing your ankle.

“Read the next question,” you say, changing the subject and handing him the phone. You finish off your wine and pour another glass.

“Tell your partner what you think about them, be very honest this time, saying things that you might not say to someone you’ve just met.”

“You go,” you insist. He’s not one to withhold compliments but you’re curious what he’ll say.

“What I think about you? Hmm,” he paused, silently studying you. Again, you feel warm under his gaze. Or maybe it’s the wine, it’s hard to tell and easier to blame it on the alcohol.

“Yes.”

“I think you’re probably the most complicated person I’ve ever known. You’re very caring and wildly smart. You’re so smart sometimes I wonder how you’re able to hold and effortlessly decipher through all the intellect you possess.”

“Aw, that’s very kind.”

He smiles lazily at you. There’s something about the way he assesses you openly that lets you know he isn’t done.

“You’re so fucking sexy.”

“Noah!” You feel your stomach clench.

“What?” he asked innocently. “The question specified complete honesty. I’m being serious. I don’t think you even realize how disarmingly sexy you are and it comes naturally. You don’t even do it on purpose which only magnifies it.”

You’re at a loss for words. You sip your wine quietly and avoid his gaze.

“I do declare,” he kidded with a laugh. “Have I left you speechless for the first time in my life?”

“Well I’m not gonna top that answer,” you admit. Acting as if you’re contemplating your own response rather than reeling from his. “You are immeasurably kind. Your kindness isn’t borne out of any ulterior motive. You are selfless in your kindness. You are the most gentle soul. You are also deeply thoughtful and talented.”

Noah smiles softly. He absentmindedly runs his hand from your ankle up to the back of your knee. You know he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it, but you feel every inch of his hand’s attention.

“Thanks,” he whispers. His gaze catches yours in a manner you aren’t prepared for.

“Stop it,” you insist, downing more wine. “This isn’t the staring part.”

He laughs.

“Do I get writing partner credit if you go with this idea?”

“No, this is simply an experiment.”

“Mhm.”

You grab the phone and read the next question.

“When is the last time you cried in front of another person? By yourself?”

“Oh geez, in front of another person? Probably like a week ago? By myself? Yesterday while watching a video on Instagram.”

“You cry very easily,” you admit. You’ve seen him cry a handful of times since you two became close.

“I do,” he admitted. “You?”

“Uh, last month probably when, I uh, when I went back home I had a bit of an intervention with my brother, about his uh… his addiction and I broke down.”

“Baby, I didn’t know,” Noah responds after a moment of silence. “You never told me that.”

You’d gotten on him about using that term of endearment with you in the past. You would remind him that you weren’t his girlfriend. But it sometimes would still slip out and after a while, you’d stop correcting him because you secretly enjoyed it.

“It’s fine. I don’t talk about it.”

He just nods his head gently, knows not to pry.

He silently takes the phone and sees you’ve finished the questions.

“Four minutes of eye contact?” he questions gently.

“That’s a lot,” you breathe as you set your wine glass down.

“You trying to opt out?”

“No, set the timer.”

He does and you settle in, telling yourself that you can get through it. Four minutes won’t last forever.

His gaze is comforting and warm the first minute. You will yourself to maintain it as you feel the air shift between you two.

He’s wordlessly communicating to you and you can’t avert the intention or the messaging; you can’t thwart the moment.

You feel emotions start to bubble up within you by the second minute's end.

“Fuck,” you murmur, trying to hold on as you feel yourself slipping deeper into whatever is transpiring.

Noah’s hand is on your thigh, against the edge of where the oversized sweatshirt has bunched up.

You don’t know what to say, you can’t manage words even if you wanted to.

His hand is on your neck and his face is suddenly so much closer.

“Tell me to stop,” he mutters.

But this is likely what can be referred to as a cosmic inevitability, and because of that, there is no recourse.

A moment later his lips capture yours and you have a fleeting thought of how you could ever think you’d successfully avoid such wonder.

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