#any tradition really she just mirrors what she's seen and known her entire life using it just for her goals no more no less

[mc-critical]

Bonus:

2.22 (46) / 2.24 (48) / 2.25 (49) / 2.35 (59) / 2.39 (63)

[breadqueen95]

Dress - Bucky Barnes

bucky barnes x fem!reader

wc: 5k

plot: bucky and y/n’s relationship is new, and they don’t want to share with their friends just yet. but something as simple as a dress can change anyone’s mind, even the winter soldier. 

content warnings: kissing. physical affection. flirting. allusions to sex. drinking. being drunk. language. bucky being a flirt. 

a/n: this is for @natasha-romancff and her taylor swift writing challenge! it took me awhile, but i’ve had a ton of fun writing this. so many bucky fics are angsty, and rightly so the man has some TRAUMA. but for my first bucky fic, based on dress by taylor swift, i wanted something happier for him 

***

Damn. That was a lot of leg.

“I don’t know,” you muttered as you stared into the mirror, “aren’t these things…a little classier than this?”

“Uh…have you met Tony Stark?” Natasha grumbled as she continued to scroll through her phone. “The man has never been classy a day in his life.”

“Well I know he isn’t, but fancy people show up to these things. I just don’t want to embarrass myself.” You were currently standing in front of the full-length mirror in Wanda’s room, staring at the reflection of a woman who didn’t quite look like you.

But it was you, wasn’t it? It was just…that you was wearing a very short, very sexy red cocktail dress. The sweetheart neckline was a nice touch, but the back was completely open. And that hemline? Definitely hiked way up past your knees.

“Y/n, relax,” Wanda reassured in her lilting accent, “sure, the dress is a little…spicier…than you’re used to, but it’s in a good way.”

“I’m pretty sure every single person would be able to tell I spend my days in tactical gear. God, I’m not sure I even know how to walk in heels this high!”

Heaving a dramatic sigh, Natasha threw her phone down and looked at you in the mirror. Her eyebrows were raised, and she was giving you her usual ‘don’t give me that shit’ look. It nearly had you shaking in your very strappy black heels.

“Are you kidding me, y/n? I’ve seen you strut in enough fancy parties during undercover missions to know that you’ve got this.”

“Yeah,” Wanda scoffed as she took a sip of red wine from her glass, “all she’s nervous about is what Bucky will think.”

Rolling your eyes, you tried to hide how much that sentence affected you.

“C’mon, Wanda. You know Bucky and I are just friends.”

“Do friends undress each other with their eyes whenever they’re in the same room?”

Damn it. Damn Wanda and her stupid perceptiveness.

“You’re reading too much into it, Wanda.” She just laughed at you, acting like she knew so much better.

What you knew and wasn’t ready to admit to your two best friends, was that she was right on the money.

Bucky Barnes, the infamous Winter Soldier, your favorite person in the entire world, was now your boyfriend. He had been for a few weeks now. The two of you were insanely private people. Hell, it had been years before the two of you had finally learned everything about each other. Once you had gotten past the walls the other had so carefully crafted, well…

At that point you were in love.

But the others didn’t need to know that, not yet at least. The Avengers were a family, your family. They were really the only true family you’d ever had. But Bucky…Bucky was finally yours. And you were his. You didn’t think it was crazy to just want to enjoy that, just the two of you, without everyone else sharing their jokes and opinions just yet. They did it out of love, you both knew that, but you just wanted him all to yourself.

As you looked back at your reflection in the mirror, you took a minute to really consider what Bucky’s reaction might be. He had the best poker face in the room no matter who he was with, but you knew him well enough to know how he was feeling just based on his eyes. He’d always said how much he loved red on you, and he adored every and any excuse to touch your skin. Those steel blue eyes of his would absolutely burn once he saw you in this dress.

And fuck, that was something you really wanted to see.

“Well, if you aren’t going to wear that dress, you better pick something else,” Nat said, jerking you from your fantasies, “we need to be there in twenty minutes, and we all need to touch up our makeup.”

“Actually…I think I’ll wear it,” you said confidently, trying to hide your grin as you ran your hands down the silky fabric.

What you didn’t see was Natasha and Wanda sharing a secret smirk behind you, like they’d known what you’d do the whole time.

***

Six weeks ago, everything had changed for you and Bucky.

You’d known how you felt for a long time. Bucky Barnes, despite his past, was the kind of man anyone could fall in love with. He was sincere, kind, generous, witty…everything you’d ever wanted in a partner. He had been your best friend for even longer.

It had been a long time before you could even admit your feelings to yourself, let alone to him. After everything the two of you had been through, who had the time and mental capacity for romance? It just didn’t seem important. You just chalked up your feelings to being such close friends. All you wanted was to be near him, even if you just sat in silence doing different things. Just being in the same room as Bucky brought you a sort of peace you’d never had before. Whenever he touched you, even if it was just a brief hug or brushing your back to get past you, your skin erupted into goosebumps. But that was just because physical touch was still foreign to you, right?

And his smile. God, his wonderful smile…

Bucky didn’t smile much. He hid behind a mask of stoicism, a remnant from the trauma of his horrible history as the Winter Soldier. Showing any sort of emotion, especially happiness, was hard for him. But when he finally let himself smile? It was the most beautiful thing you’d ever see.        

It took several sleepless nights wrestling with those confusing feelings to figure it out. You didn’t just see Bucky as your best friend. You had it bad. Not just “oh my god he’s so handsome” bad, like the “I would take a bullet for you I’m so in love” bad. That revelation? It left you euphoric. It also left you scared.

Because you were so sure Bucky didn’t feel the same. And that thought was like a knife to the heart every time it flashed through your mind.

So you kept it to yourself. You tried to keep things as normal as possible, but your heart kept fluttering whenever he walked into a room. Being so close to Bucky meant you confided in each other about pretty much everything, and he knew you well enough to know you were hiding something.

It all exploded on a Tuesday night in the compound.

Tuesdays were your movie nights. Bucky had a lot of pop culture to catch up on, so on this night every week he would come by your room to watch a movie. It was a weekly tradition that kind of started by accident. You were shocked he still hadn’t made time to watch Lord of the Rings, so you forced him onto your couch with popcorn and The Fellowship of the Ring. He loved it so much, and immediately asked if you guys could watch The Two Towers the next week. How could you say no to him?

Tonight, you were watching 13 Going on 30. It was your all-time favorite romcom, and you figured you could both use a break from all the action and fantasy movies you’d been cycling through. Something with a happy ending was worth indulging in.

“Does that Matt guy look like Banner to you? Or is it just me?” Bucky asked through a mouthful of popcorn.

“Heh, maybe a little,” you said, “Give or take a few years.” He laughed at that, and you forced yourself to laugh quietly. You wanted to blurt out your feelings every time you looked at Bucky, so you’d gotten quieter and quieter every time you spent time with him. It was an awful reaction, and you knew he noticed. But it was better than losing his friendship, right?

After that awful and painfully obvious forced laugh, Bucky let out a huge sigh and paused the movie. He set the bowl of popcorn down on the coffee table in front of the couch, then turned to face you. Exasperation and hurt glimmered in his eyes.

“Y/n, what the fuck is going on with you?”

“W-what do you mean?”

“Oh come on, don’t give me that,” he said sharply, “I know you better than anyone, and I know for a fact there’s something you’re not telling me. Is it me? Did I do something wrong?”

“What? No, god no!” You exclaimed.

“Well it must be something I did, because you’ve never been this quiet around me and it keeps getting worse. I hate it, and I want to know what I did so I can fix it.”

“Bucky, I’m serious, it’s nothing you did—”

“Then why? Why are you shutting me out?” He cut you off angrily, arms thrown wide. “You’re my best friend, I just don’t get why—”

“I don’t want you like a best friend, Bucky!” Your eyes went wide as the words flew from your lips. In the most comical way, you clapped your hand over your mouth as if you could stop the words that had already been said. Bucky’s eyes narrowed in confusion.

Oh fuck. He didn’t get it. Curse him and his old man ways.

“What does that even mean, Y/n? Are you saying you don’t want me around anymore?”

“Bucky, of course not. God, I would never want that. Never in a million years.”

“Then you better explain, because if you haven’t noticed, I’m over 100 years old. I need a little help here.”

“It means, uh…um,” you stuttered, wringing your hands together. “Is there any chance we can just forget I said that?”

“Nope, not a chance.”

“It means…it means that I care about you. As more than a friend.”

His entire face seemed to crinkle as he processed that. If you weren’t freaking out, you’d be obsessing over how damn cute it made him look. Then his eyes got wide as he began to make the connection. Your stomach nearly fell out of your ass as his eyes lifted again to meet yours.

“I…I think I know what you’re saying,” he nearly whispered, “I just need you to get real specific real fast, because I’m not about to say anything until I know exactly what you mean.”

“It means I’m in love with you, okay?” You burst out. Even through your mortification, there was a sudden sense of relief. A secret as big as that had definitely been weighing you down. Now that it was out there, that was one less thing you had to worry about.

His eyes grew even wider. How that was possible, you didn’t even know. That beautiful mouth of his began to turn up into a small smile as he gazed softly at you.

“You’re in love with me?” He asked, his smile getting wider with each passing second.

“What, you need it carved into stone or something?” You couldn’t help but sass him. Did you fucking stutter?

“No, it’s just…I never thought you’d feel that way about me.”

“Well, clearly I do. So you – wait, you mean you’ve thought about this before?”

“Of course I have,” he said as he shrugged, “I’ve been in love with you for two years now, how could I not think about it?”

You were instantly filled with warmth and pure bliss. In all your obsessing over your own feelings, you’d never allowed yourself to consider that he might feel the same about you. It just didn’t seem possible.

“I’m sorry,” you burst out, holding a hand up, “you’re telling me you’ve been into me for two years and didn’t say anything?”

“Why didn’t you?” He shot back, inching closer to you.

“Because you’re my best friend. I didn’t want to lose you because of stupid feelings I have.”

“But…I have those same ‘stupid feelings’ for you. So can we just cut the whole act and get on with it?” Bucky brought a hand up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing along your skin so gently.

“Uh…um…get on with what?”

“Well I’d kinda like to kiss you, if you’re cool with it.”

“Bucky Barnes did you just use current slang to ask if you could kiss me?” You didn’t move an inch as his face moved right in front of yours, breath intermingling as you gazed into each other’s eyes. God, was this really happening?

“Yeah, guess your lessons worked,” he murmured.

“Well you better kiss me, then.”

As soon as your lips met, it was like coming home.

***

That memory, your favorite memory, replayed in your head as the three of you stepped into the elevator. Nat and Wanda were happily chatting about who would be there, what kind of antics Tony would cook up tonight, if there would be music we could actually dance to. You know, normal party things.

All you could think about was how long you had to stay until you could sneak off with your boyfriend.

You were so happy Wanda and Natasha had convinced you to wear this dress. When you’d first put it on, the difference from your normal look was so jarring that it took you a few minutes to get used to it. But now that you had, now that you felt the silky fabric shifting against your skin as you moved, now that you saw how dangerously long your legs looked in these heels…

Damn, you felt sexy.

And that sexy feeling? It made you want Bucky’s hands all over you.

But this was a party. A party thrown by Tony Stark, one of the most perceptive and observant people you’d ever met. If you left too soon, if he thought you weren’t “having enough fun”, he’d be more than a little upset. So you had to stay, drink, mingle, maybe dance a little…and then, maybe later, you could go do what you actually wanted.

The elevator pinged, indicating you had reached the topmost floor of the compound. This floor was home to a huge communal space, often used for just hanging out with the team. But on nights like tonight, Tony went all out and turned the space into something that resembled…a club?

The three of you stepped out into the massive room, upbeat music already blasting from the speakers. Typical Tony – he never really outgrew his love for dancing and parties. The bass thrummed through your body, making you want to move to the music. The lights were dim, but you could still tell who was around. It looked like you were some of the last members of the team to arrive. There was a huge bar off to the side, and Natasha headed that way right away. You turned to ask Wanda if she wanted to follow Nat, but she was already making a beeline for Vision. Smiling, you just turned right back around to follow Natasha. A drink sounded pretty good right now.

As you made your way to the bar, you felt more than a few pairs of eyes on you as you walked. You sneakily looked around as you went, noticing men and women watching you with admiration, and dare you say it, longing. As someone whose job was to blend in with the background all the time, this was a different and slightly addictive feeling. You leaned on the bar next to Nat right as the bartender slid her drink over to her.

“Straight whiskey tonight? Damn, going hard.” You quipped.

“Hey now, you know I can handle my liquor. It’s you we need to watch out for, you lightweight.”

Laughing, you scanned the party guests, looking for the one person you wanted to see. Tony had had arm around Pepper’s waist, both laughing at something Rhodey had said. Bruce lingered around them, drink in hand and looking a little nervous, but still happy to be included. Wanda and Vision were sitting quietly on one of the couches, both looking absolutely smitten with each other. Scott Lang, one of the newest additions, was busting some moves, while Peter Parker laughed as he watched. Thor, who was visiting from Asgard, laughed boisterously as he watched various guests try to lift his hammer. You couldn’t help the smile growing on your face. You loved these people so much.

Then, you saw him.

Bucky was with Sam and Steve, as usual. But even as Sam and Steve were talking animatedly next to him, those gorgeous blue eyes of his were glued to you. There was a kind of intensity in them you hadn’t seen before. Your breath whooshed from you body as he grinned at you. Trying to maintain the suggestive image your dress gave you, you managed to send a flirtatious smile his way, then turned back around to face the bar. Leaning against the counter, you knew he’d get an eyeful of your bare back. God, this was fun.

The bartender finally made his way over to you, and you ordered two tequila shots.

Nat turned to you, one eyebrow arched in surprise as she asked, “And you say I’m going hard? You can’t just down two shots right away, babe.”

“I’m not doing two shots; you think I’m stupid?” The bartender slid the shots over to you along with two lime wedges. “One is clearly for you.”

Unable to hold back a laugh, Natasha put her arm around your shoulders and pulled you into her side as she said, “Why the fuck not, let’s do it.” The two of you went through the process: salt, shot, lime. You couldn’t help but wince as you downed the harsh liquor. Of all the shots in the world, tequila probably tasted the worst. The only reason you kept going for it was the warmth it traced down your body, and you felt your muscles begin to loosen up.

“Two more,” you called over to the bartender.

“Uh, no,” Natasha shot at you, grabbing her whiskey, and pushing off the bar, “I’m good with my top shelf shit, you keep going after that gasoline if you want but I’m out.”

“C’mon, Nat,” you called out, “what am I gonna do with two shots?”

“I’m sure you’ll find someone else, babe.” She said with a wave over her shoulder.

Sighing, you turned back to the ridiculously pretty bar (seriously, how much had Tony paid for this thing?). Who else would help you look cool and sexy at a bar for your secret boyfriend?

Okay, that was the cringiest thought you’d ever had. Gross.

As the bartender slid the tequila in front of you, you steeled yourself for the nastiness that was about to happen.

“Fuck, I didn’t think this through,” you mumbled.

“Yeah, you tend to do that,” a deep voice answered on your right. Instead of being the slightest bit surprised, you couldn’t help but smile. You’d know that voice anywhere.

“Something I can do for you, Barnes?” You looked up at him from under your lashes.

“Well, it looks like you’ve got an extra shot there. Thought I could bail you out.”

“Is that all?”

Bucky shifted so that your arms were just barely touching. His hand was right next to yours, and you reached out with your pinky to lightly brush his.

“Doll, you have the gall to show up in that dress and ask what I want as if you don’t already know?”

“Sorry Buck, I’m a little slow, must be the tequila. You should probably be a little clearer.”

Putting on quite the show of reaching for one of the shots, his mouth somehow ended up right next to your ear.

“I want you.”

It was lucky everyone was so distracted and couldn’t see how you shuddered at his words. Trying to maintain brain function, you managed to take the shot with him. You were now fully facing each other. He was wearing the cockiest smirk you’d ever seen, one that would put Tony Stark to shame. You couldn’t help but respond with that same energy despite the jitteriness his three little words had reduced you to.

“Well why don’t you—”

“Hello, my friends!” A booming voice sounded between you as Thor threw a huge arm over each of you. Bucky, with his stupid super soldier strength, didn’t really have a reaction to it. You, on the other hand, stumbled a little under the weight and force of it. “It’s so good to be back with you tiny humans.”

Was…was he slurring his words?

“Thor…are you drunk right now?”

He simply laughed in response. Well, that answered that.

“Of course I am, tiny person! It can’t be a party without good Asgardian wine.”

“Wait…you have literal god wine?” Bucky, who had a look of vague irritation on his face up to this point, now looked interested. Maybe even a little excited?

“Of course, metal appendage.”

“Dude, you can’t just call Bucky ‘metal appendage’—”

“He can if he lets me have some,” Bucky interrupted.

“We have a bargain!” Thor slapped Bucky on the back before scurrying back over to where he had come from, probably to get the wine he had promised.

“Bucky, you can’t even get drunk,” you hissed, “what exactly is the point of this?”

“Since everything happened, I haven’t found any alcohol strong enough to get me drunk. I figure god wine is worth a shot.”

“Bucky—”

“When I kiss you against a wall later, I wanna be a little tipsy,” he whispered in your ear, “that cool with you?”

Unable to keep yourself from smiling again, you nodded as Thor sauntered back over. Ever since that moment a few weeks ago, right before he kissed you for the first time, asking “is that cool with you?” had become your thing.

And the idea of Bucky kissing you against a wall? Yeah, that sounded pretty good.

***

As it turns out, Asgardian wine is just as potent as Thor had promised.

For the first time in over seventy years, Bucky Barnes was certifiably drunk. It made him feel like the Bucky from all those years ago, and it was the most incredible thing. Here he was, over 100 years old, partying, and all his favorite people were here.

Including his ridiculously hot girlfriend.

Even as they both flitted around the party, Bucky and y/n still found each other’s eyes, even from across the room. They would send winks, smiles, even funny faces. All he wanted to do was be right next to her, talk and dance with her all night…

But they had agreed. They wanted to keep their relationship a secret for now, keep the attention off of them for a bit while they got to know each other in this new way.

But god damn, that dress.

Y/n in red was…indescribable. It didn’t matter what she wore, she was always the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. But in red? In this dress?

She was breathtaking.

“Buck, you breathing?”

A hand waved in front of his face, snapping Bucky’s attention back to the people around him from Y/n’s back. He had been imagining putting his hands all over that back later and had gotten more than a little mesmerized. He managed to get his eyes to refocus, finding a drunk Sam smirking right next to him and an even drunker Steve dancing next to him. But what Steve was doing couldn’t really be called ‘dancing’ per say…more like an aggressive wiggle.

“Why wouldn’t I be breathing?” Of all the things he could’ve said to get Sam’s attention off of him, that wasn’t it.

“Uh, probably because the girl you’re in love with decided to show up and show off tonight? Pretty sure you’re drooling, man.”

Despite himself, Bucky slapped a hand across his mouth, only reducing Sam to wheezing laughter. Knowing he had been caught, he rolled his eyes and grimaced a little. Of all the people to catch him, he wished it hadn’t been Sam.

“I wasn’t…staring… at y/n, I just never see her dressed up is all.”

“I never said anything about the girl being y/n.”

“…fuck.”

“LANGUAGE,” Steve yelled out, pointing a finger at his two friends before returning to his shimmying.

Turning back to him, Sam added, “Just go be with her, Buck. You’re not fooling anyone, and neither is she.”

“We’re that obvious?”

“A few weeks ago you’d at least try to hide it. Now I’m surprised you’re not jumping each other’s bones right here right now.”

“Point taken,” Bucky said, lightly slapping Sam’s shoulder before power walking over to his girl.

***

“Nat, if you don’t stop asking about Bucky and I’s relationship, I’m going to kick you,” you called over the music before taking another swig from your glass. It was no Asgardian wine, but the human stuff wasn’t half bad in your opinion. It wasn’t like you could drink the god shit, anyway. If you had even one sip, you’d be swinging from the ceiling like Miley fucking Cyrus. You were pretty drunk as it was.

“Okay, fine,” she said with a shrug as she took a sip of her whiskey, still as calm and collected as ever. “You’re almost as drunk as he is, you’ll be talking soon enough.”

“Oh? Is that your spy master plan?”

Natasha was still looking as unbothered as ever, but as she looked across the room over your shoulder, her face split into a savage grin.

“It was, but it looks like I might not need it.”

“What do you me—”

Your words were cut off as a large, warm hand enclosed around yours. Whirling around, you were suddenly face to face with the man himself. Bucky was clearly having a good time. His mouth was relaxed into the cutest smile you’d ever seen him wear, and he moved without his normal stiffness and intensity. He threaded your fingers together, smiling down at you with so much love it was a wonder Nat hadn’t said anything yet.

Looking back in front of you, ready to explain yourself, you only found empty air. Guess she’d seen all she needed to, but honestly, you really didn’t care. All you’d wanted the whole night was to be exactly where you were right now; hand in hand with the man you loved.

“We’re just kidding ourselves, doll,” Bucky called next to your ear, “Sam said we’ve been pretty obvious.”

“Nat said the same,” you answered with a sheepish smile, “kind of hard to keep my face under control when you’ve got that leather jacket on.”

“You’re blaming me?” He asked with mock indignation. “You’re the one who looks,” he gestured wildly to your whole body, “like that!”

Trying ignore the heat spreading over your cheeks, you shot back, “Like what?”

“Like the most…” he screwed his face up in the most adorable way as he searched for words, “like the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.” As the last few words tumbled out of his mouth, he gazed at you with such a softness you almost melted right into the floor.

“Wanna get out of here?” You asked, finally giving up the game. It was pointless, really. Now, all you wanted to do was for your boyfriend to keep his promise and kiss you against a wall.

Wrapping an arm around your waist, he answered, “Absolutely.” Without looking at a single soul, the two of you began walking as quickly as you could for the exit. You and Bucky were both leaning on each other a bit, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Stepping out into the light of the hallway, you blinked as your eyes adjusted after the dark room you’d spent the last few hours in. Bucky led you until you were right in front of the elevator, and he lazily pressed the button to go up. There was tension in the air between you, like a thread that was being pulled. Biting your lip, you stared at the doors in front of you. You knew if you so much as looked at the man next to you, you’d jump him right then and there.

The shining doors slid open, and the pair of you walked in, his strong arm still around your waist. His grip wasn’t loose in any sense of the word. Bucky kept you right next to him, even as your legs wanted to drift all over the place. You pressed the button for the residential floor.

As soon as those doors slid shut, that thread of tension snapped.

Bucky whirled you to face him, then walked you backward until you were pressed against the wall of the elevator.

“I promised I’d kiss you against the wall, didn’t I?”

He didn’t even wait for a response. His mouth was on yours in an instant, lips moving together like a dance. The kiss was slow and unhurried. You tried to bring him closer, linking your hands behind his neck and pressing yourself to him. Instead of responding in kind, he unwound your arms from around him and pinned them above your head.

Oh damn.

Okay.

No complaints here.

“You’ve been teasin’ me all night just by wearing that dress, sweetheart,” he murmured in between the kisses he trailed down your jaw, “I think it’s my turn.”

“Would it change your mind knowing I only wore this dress so you could take it off?”

The heat that bloomed in those blue eyes of his was unmistakable. As the doors opened on your floor, he swept you up into his arms and began to walk purposefully to his apartment. All the while, he kept that signature cocky smirk of his you’d come to adore.

“Bucky?” You asked once he’d walked into his unit.

“That sentence was the single most attractive thing you’ve ever said,” he murmured as he set you down. Even still, he kept you pressed against him. “But nah, I’m a patient guy. I think I’ll take my time.” He followed this by resuming his slow and sensual kisses, and you couldn’t help but melt into them.

“I love you,” you whispered against his lips.

“I’ll never get tired of hearing that, doll. I love you too.”

***

[sunfleurry]

II. Soie et Satin

Part 1

Thank you for the lovely feedback on part 1 of modern prince!Harry <33

NOTE: I decided to give my MC a name (which I also edited into part 1). I hope you enjoy Rose and Harry’s story!!!! this part is not edited oops

***

Harry was on TV and he looked like a star. Rose watched him from the comfort of her living room while she sipped her morning coffee.

It was a live broadcast showing his arrival to the event with his family including the queen, his mother. She was an intimidatingly beautiful woman who gained the respect of the entire country, if not the entire world throughout her life. She was known to be strict on tradition, but she’d done so much for the country when it came to helping the less fortunate, advocating for global health, and supporting free education for everyone.

Now that she was older and had quite a few children, she passed on some of her duties to them. They, including Harry, followed in her footsteps, looking out for the population by supporting the same causes their mother dedicated her life to as a young woman. Their role was to represent the queen, and they did so flawlessly.

Rose didn’t want to admit that she’d googled Harry the day he sent flowers to her office, but she did, and she was reminded of the fact that Harry was heir to the throne. She never cared much for learning about the royal family and this was something everyone knew, but reading it after meeting him was like a big wake-up call. She’d danced with a man who would one day become king. She tried not to let herself think about it too much, or else she knew her thoughts would spiral out of control.

Harry and his brother wore a simple black suit, a change from his usual style, and his mother and sisters were donned in modest dresses she knew were designer and likely cost the same as her home.

Men with flashing cameras were going crazy behind the gates, desperately trying to get the perfect shot of the country’s “perfect” family.

Upon seeing the paparazzi, Rose was instantly reminded of how lucky she and Harry were to not have been caught by anyone when they went out. She quickly picked up her phone and googled Harry’s name and filtered the results to hours before the charity event just to be sure. She sighed in relief when there were no photos or stories of the both of them.

She relaxed into her sofa and fixed her eyes on the television, watching the rest of the event, subconsciously smiling every time Harry’s handsome face popped up on the screen.

***

Three days later at work, Rose received a text from Harry. What are you doing tonight?

She quickly replied, I have a date with a really hot guy I met a while back.

She barely put her phone down before it pinged with another message. What? Who is he? Tell him you’re busy.

She grinned. I don’t know. He’s kind of cute. Did I mention he’s a prince?

Her phone vibrated with a call, Harry’s name in block letters at the top of the screen. She accepted the call and brought it up to her ear. “Hello?”

“You’re not funny.”

She barked out a laugh, then winced and apologized to her coworkers whose desks were adjacent to hers. “I think I am.”

She heard him huff through the line then say, “Can I pick you up at seven?”

“Where do you want to take me?” She asked, tamping down her giddiness. It had only been less than a week since she’d last seen him, but she missed him.

“I thought we could take a walk on the beach, maybe have some ice cream?”

“How romantic of you,” she teased.

She could almost see his eyes rolling. “Are you in? I haven’t been able to go out in public since that morning charity.”

“Why not?”

He sighed. “Normally after making such a public appearance, we’re encouraged to stay low-key for a couple days. Something about the media being on high alert.”

Suddenly remembering the thoughts she had the morning she watched him on TV, she instantly knew what he meant. Rose worried her lip between her teeth as she tried to form the words to articulate the worry that had been building up since that day.

“Harry, will there be people following us?” She closed her eyes, hoping she didn’t sound stupid.

The other end of the line was quiet for a moment before he finally spoke up. “You know what, change of plans. Wear something comfortable.”

“Oh,” she ran a hand through her hair and sat back in her chair. “Okay.”

“I can’t wait to see you, Rose.”

She smiled. “You too,” she whispered.

***

Harry said to wear something comfortable, so she slipped on the most comfortable outfit she owned: A pair of joggers and matching crewneck. He’d only ever seen her dressed up, she figured she would let herself look more casual for once. Her doorbell rang just as she was slipping on a pair of Nikes. Reaching over, she opened the door to reveal a nervous-looking Harry standing with his car key in hand.

“Hi,” he said, a smile breaking onto his face at the sight of her then pulling her in for a hug.

She wrapped her arms around his waist, breathing in the cologne she absolutely loved.

“You look lovely,” he said as he pulled back to take a look at her.

She couldn’t resist kissing his cheek. “Please, I’m wearing glorified pyjamas.”

He looked down at his own pair of joggers and t-shirt. “I’d say you understood the assignment.”

She laughed as she followed him to his flashy car. It wasn’t the same one he picked her up in on their previous date, but just as nice.

Less than a half hour later, Harry had driven them to the middle of the city and into an underground parking garage of a large high-rise building. One of the tallest she’d ever seen in person. It had a modern design, the surface covered in mirrored windows. He drove through the garage until the car reached a closed door. He inched the car closer until the sensor detected it and opened the door, allowing the car to enter a smaller parking area containing two other cars, one of them Rose recognized as the one she’d been in on their last date.

“Do you live here?” She asked, taken aback.

“Yes,” he smiled nervously. “This is my private parking.”

“I can see that,” she frowned. “I thought you lived with your family, at the palace.”

“You and everyone else in the world,” he chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck.

“You don’t?”

He unbuckled his seat belt, and pocketed his key before turning towards her. “I come from a not so traditional family, but I need my own space despite the responsibilities that are expected of me. I’m a man in my twenties who values his privacy so I moved out when I was nineteen. Under a fake name.” 

She was shocked by the revelation, even more by the fact that he was trusting her with his information. 

“Nobody knows you live here?”

“I mean, the other residents do, but they’re under contract.”

“And your family?”

“Of course they know where I live,” he chuckled. “They just don’t come here. They don’t want to risk being seen here because they respect my space, they want to make sure I have all the privacy I can get away from the public eye, because, well, one day I won’t have that luxury.”

Rose deflated at the reminder of what his future entailed. “Do you ever think about it? Being heir and all?”

Harry looked down at his lap, picking an invisible thread on his pants. “Let’s go inside,” he said at last. 

Taking the hint, Rose smiled and opened her door, Harry doing the same. He scanned a card inside the elevator and keyed in a code on the keypad. The lift immediately started rising, only halting when it reached the final floor of the building. 

Nothing could have prepared Rose for the extravagance that would welcome her as soon as the doors opened. An entire wall was made up of giant windows, overlooking the bustling city underneath. They were so high up, she couldn't hear any of it. Instead, the height provided a peaceful silence in an otherwise busy area. The flooring was marble, the luxury kind one would only see on TV, and the place was spotless. 

Harry’s warm hand on the small of her back urged her to walk inside, the elevator doors closing behind them. She took in the open concept penthouse, a staircase in the corner of the grand living room leading to what she assumed was his private corner, the bedroom and bath.

“Holy shit,” she breathed. 

Harry laughed behind her, before grabbing her hand and leading her to the kitchen she knew even Gordon Ramsay would drool over. “Would you like something to drink?”

Snapping herself out of her dumfounded state, she looked at him. “What?”

He suppressed a smile and repeated, “Would you like something to drink?”

“Oh! Um, yes please,” she said, wringing her fingers together.

“Relax, Rose.”

“How could I?” She asked, eyes wide. “I feel like I’ll break something just by looking at it!”

“That’s fine, love. I want you to be comfortable.”

“But this place—”

“Is my home,” he interrupted, stepping closer and gently grabbing her shoulders. “And I made the choice to trust you with my secret, so please, make yourself comfortable.”

Her eyes softened. “You’re right, I’m sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry about.”He leaned forward to capture her lips with his, and she melted into him without hesitation. She’d been wanting to do this since their first kiss and the wait was definitely worth it. 

He pulled back with a grin, leaving her breathless. “So, drink?”

She nodded, exhaling as an attempt to calm her beating heart. 

“I also made us dinner, I just need to put it in the oven.”

The statement made her heart swell, a feeling of fondness for the man in front of her taking over. “You didn’t have to.”

“I wanted to,” he smiled, as he pushed a few buttons on the oven until a yellow light started flashing and the desired temperature was displayed. “Can’t bring you here and not feed you.”

She chuckled and pulled out a stool tucked into the island to sit on. “No you can’t.”

***

The food would take an hour, so the two decided to go to his living room to wait. They were cuddled up on his couch, watching a movie she’d chosen and that he’d seen a dozen times. Rose didn’t know that though.

“Do you ever worry people will recognize you?” She asked, out of the blue. “When we went out together, you seemed unfazed by the looks some were giving you.”

He shrugged. “I get used to it, really. Besides, Fen is always around in case something happens.”

She pushed off the couch to look at him. “Fen?”

“My security detail,” he nodded. “He’s always around when I’m out and about.”

“But, I didn’t see him the other night. Or the first time we went out together.”

He grinned. “That means he’s doing his job.”

She frowned as she slowly tucked herself back into his side. His arm automatically wrapped around her. “So, we were being followed all night?”

“It’s for safety purposes, Rose. Plus, I would never intentionally put you in danger.”

“What could possibly be so dangerous?”

Harry ducked to press a kiss to her head, breathing in the shampoo scent that coated her red strands. “Anything could be dangerous, even the paparazzi.”

The thought of being followed by paparazzi sent shivers down her spine. She’d seen videos of celebrities being hounded by them and felt sorry for the public figures who had to live with that.

“What if they see us together. Would they publish photos? Are you scared of what they may think?”

“Are you ashamed of me, Rose?”

She craned her neck to kiss him softly. “I would never be ashamed of you, Your Highness.”

“I knew it!” He cried, dramatically pushing her away. “You’re just using me for my title!”

“How did you know?” She gasped, trying to hold in a smile.

“I’ve always felt something was off with you,” he tutted, leaning his back on the arm rest and pulling her on top of him.

She giggled, raising her hand to run her fingers through his hair before smoothing it down. “Why is that?” She whispered.

“There’s no way someone as beautiful as you would give me the time of day,” he murmured, brushing his lips on the corner of her mouth.

She pulled him in to give her a proper kiss, their legs tangling as he switched positions until he was hovering on top of her, forearms caging her head against the sofa. 

“If anything, you’re out of my league, Prince.”

The words didn’t sit right with him. He pulled back. “Don’t ever say that,” he frowned.

“It’s true—“

He kissed her again. “Who I am... What I come from... Means nothing between you and me.”

She stared at him intently, the conversation taking an unexpected turn.

“Do you hear me?” He murmured, brushing his lips along her cheek.

She nodded.

He sighed. “Good.”

Rose gasped when Harry’s mouth was suddenly on hers, instantly brushing her tongue against his in what could be the best kiss she’d ever had. She wrapped her arms around his waist, pulling him down to feel his comforting weight on top of her. The kiss morphed into something wetter as his hands trailed along her side and dipped under her shirt. She shivered from the contact, bending her knees to cage his body between her legs. Harry brushed his lips against her jaw before slowly making his way down her throat to the fabric of her top covering her chest. His hands inched along her skin to her back where he applied pressure, making her arch, chest pressing against his own.

“Harry,” she breathed as he pressed open mouthed kisses up her throat, leaving a wet trail.

He hummed in response before coming back up to connect their lips. She sighed into his mouth, arms wrapping around his neck as his hands trailed back to caress her sides. “Can I take this off?” He breathed, fingering the hem of her shirt.

She nodded against his neck, where she tongued at his skin, savouring the feeling of just being so close to him. He pulled her shirt up but before he could take it off completely, his phone rang, the shrill ringtone breaking through their bubble.

Harry scrambled to get off the couch, recognizing the ringtone, while Rose fought to catch her breath, mourning the feeling of his weight on her.

Harry excused himself and left the room to speak to whoever it was while Rose readjusted her top and sat up. She decided to braid her hair while waiting for him to finish.

Just as she was tying up her hair, she heard his footsteps before he appeared with a grim look on his face. He tossed his phone on the coffee table.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing is wrong,” he smiled but she didn’t buy it.

She tucked her legs under her and extended a hand towards him.

Harry accepted it and she tugged him over to sit next to her. He complied and slumped back, neck resting on the back of the couch.

“It’s just PR stuff. You don’t need to worry about it,” he said, eyes never leaving the ceiling.

She felt her heart sink to her stomach. “What kind of PR stuff?”

Before he could answer, she jumped at a sudden beeping coming from the kitchen.

He chuckled half-heartedly as she held a hand up to her chest. “It’s just the oven, love. Come on, food’s ready.”

“But what about—“

He kissed her. “I’m hungry.”

She pouted but decided to drop it, not wanting the mood to be ruined.

***

Rose placed her fork on her empty plate and got up to make her way to the sink. “How did you learn to cook like that?” She turned on the water and waited for it to turn hot before rinsing her plate. She reached for the sponge and squirted soap on it, intending to wash all the dishes.

Harry walked up behind her and slid a hand around her waist, splaying his hand on her stomach and pulling her back against him. “My mother,” he said before reaching over and turning off the water.

“Hey!” She went to turn it back on but he wrapped a hand around the tap, preventing her from moving it. “Harry…” She warned.

“Rose…”

She turned around and crossed her arms, ignoring the way her body reacted to his proximity. 

He laughed, and pried the wet sponge out of her hand, then pushed her out of the way to rinse it and put it back in place. 

Rose scowled. “Let me do this for you.”

“No, I have a dishwasher that could do that for me. I want to spend time with you, not watch you wash my shit.”

“You do so much for me, Harry. Let me wash your shit.”

“I can wash my own shit.”

“Okay, this is getting gross.”

Harry giggled and kissed her cheek before walking over to his fridge. She took the time to wash her hands and dry them before turning around to ask if he needed help with whatever it was he was doing.

She was met with the sight of him standing next to the kitchen island, a delicious-looking chocolate cake on it with two small forks. 

Harry chuckled at the way her eyes lit up, knowing her love for chocolate was the way to her heart. 

“I was too shy to ask if you had something sweet to follow up with dinner,” she admitted sheepishly, biting her bottom lip as she sat on the stool while he did the same across from her.

His smile widened, handing her a fork. “I would never forget.”

She blushed and followed his lead by taking the first bite of the cake. “Oh my God,” she moaned. “Is this André’s?”

Harry looked at her, horrified. “Don’t ever say another man’s name after moaning like that.”

She snorted, taking another bite of the delicious cake. 

“Yes,” Harry said finally, expression morphing into one of amusement as he watched her devour her half of the dessert. “He did make it. Something about giving the lovely lady a real treat.”

Rose laughed at the way he mocked André’s accent, and pushed the plate towards him to finish the cake. “I can’t take another bite,” she groaned. 

***

Rose awoke to the sound of faint chattering. She didn’t remember when she fell asleep but once she was aware enough to take in her surroundings, she realized she was still in Harry’s penthouse, curled up on his couch under a warm blanket. A warm feeling engulfed her when she realized Harry had tucked her in.

“Fuck you, I can do whatever I want.”

She frowned, knuckling her eye to try and wake herself up as she heard Harry start pacing, wherever he was.

“I know, I know, she’s been telling me the same thing all week.”

“Harry?” She called out. He didn’t hear her.

“If I hear you call her that one more time, you’re fired.”

“Harry,” she called again, louder. His pacing stopped and a second later, he appeared from around the corner, phone up to his ear.

“Rose,” he sighed, then scowled at whatever the person on the other end said. “Yes, now don’t call me back.” He locked his phone and gave her his attention once again. “Sorry about that.”

She smiled sleepily and reached over to caress his face. He breathed out and knelt on the ground to come face to face with her. Her fingers wound in the short hairs at the nape of his neck and he exhaled, dropping his forehead to her collarbone. “Sometimes I hate being me.”

“Want to talk about it?”

He shook his head and a laugh bubbled out of her, unwillingly. He snapped his head up. “What’s so funny?”

“Tickled me,” she mumbled.

He snorted then got up, asking her to move over before laying down next to her and pulling her to his side. 

“You seemed angry,” she said gently.

She could feel him tense under her. “My mother was just pissed at me, had my publicist relay a message.”

“Did you do anything?”

Harry looked into her warm brown eyes, his own glinting with mischief. “When am I not?”

Rose giggled and laid her head on his shoulder. She could feel herself being pulled back into unconsciousness, and as much as she tried to fight it, she couldn't. She wanted to stay awake for him, to comfort him further but exhaustion suddenly washed over her. Before being completely lost to the world, she could’ve sworn she heard him murmur, “I won’t let anything come between us.”

***

THANK YOU FOR READING <3333 lmk if you’d like to be tagged !!! 

Tag list: @mellamolayla​

[johnsamericano]

𝓓𝓪𝔂 7:

тєи ℓєє

23 days of NCT masterlist.

taglist: @notbeforelong @curieouscapt @whathamelon @unknown5tar @ajhdr @silent-potato

warnings: the reader is soon-to-be engaged to someone 12 years older, virginity loss, extreme lack of experience from the reader, dirty talk, Ten’s a sweetheart 😭

“He’s here!” Your mother clapped her hands excitedly, asking the butler to answer the door.

You sat with both hands squeezed on your lap. You’d never seen a male tailor, let alone be dressed by one. Would it be uncomfortable? Just as your mind was about to drift away, a man with at least four rolls of fabric entered the room.

“Good evening, my lady.” Was he even real? He looked straight out of a painting, just like the ones hanging on your wall.

“Good evening, sir.” You bowed your head gracefully, just like you'd been taught to do.

“There’s no need to be so formal.” He smiled cheekily, his eyes disappearing just the slightest and making your heart flutter with excitement. “Let us have a seat and chat a little about what kind of dress you'd like.”

Everything went so naturally with him, from sitting down and talking about the event you'd be wearing the dress to, to his hands surrounding your waist, taking your measurements.

“I was thinking of something white, my lady. After all, the goal is to get a certain gentleman to ask for your hand, isn't it?”

“How did you...?”

“Your mother is quite a chatty lady.” You sighed. She certainly had trouble keeping things a secret, the whole town probably already knew by now.

“Then I guess you already know we've known each other since we were kids, well, since I was a kid. He's twelve years older.” You sounded so excited talking about that guy that it made him smile. “Are you married, sir?”

“God, no!” He was quick to explain. “I want to devote myself to work, that's what makes me happy.”

“But imagine yourself, waiting for your beautiful bride at the church, ready to join your lives for what is left of them. Just to think about it gives me goosebumps.” To him, what you'd just said sounded like agony. Dedicating himself to another person for the rest of his life? He’d rather jump off a cliff.

“I just don't think I'm good husband material, that's all.”

As the days passed by, you got to know him better. He’d often tell you about his job, how many dresses he'd confectioned that week, how much money he'd earned, every single little detail of it. He made it sound like a dream, he spoke so passionately about it that you wondered whether you'd ever find something that would make you feel that same way.

“Good morning, my lady.” He kissed your knuckles, a devilish grin extending through his lips as he admired your flustered face. “I’ve got a surprise for you.”

He extended a big, white box with a red velvety ribbon keeping it closed.

“That was fast!” You opened it to reveal a pretty, lacy dress. It was exactly what you’d asked for, but then why did you feel so sad?

“What is it, my lady? Do you not like the dress?”

“No! I love it.” He smiled, pulling out the dress from it’s confinement to let you have a better look at it. It was, indeed, beautiful.

“Would you like to try it on?”

You soon found yourself behind a room divider, slipping the soft dress on. The texture was marvelous, like wearing a cloud. It would definitely draw Johnny’s attention, that’s for sure.

“How do I look?” You stepped out, spinning around to let his critic eyes have a look at his masterpiece. He squinted his eyes as if he wasn’t pleased. “What is it?”

“Your corset.”

“Huh?”

“Truth to be told, I knew this dress wouldn’t work with a traditional corset, so I might have made a special one for the occasion.” You walked to the full body mirror, taking a look at yourself.

“It looks fine to me.”

“You look too innocent, my lady.” You furrowed your eyebrows, eyes connecting with his through your reflections. “This dress wasn’t made to make you look innocent, but to make you look like a sophisticated, upper class woman.”

You went through your options and finally decided to listen to the expert.

“Do you happen to have that corset at the moment?”

“Yes, but the problem is, only I know the right way to adjust it. Would you be okay with me doing that?” You could feel cold sweat running down the back of your neck.

Only your mother and some servants had seen you naked, but never a man. It wasn’t supposed to happen unless the couple was married. However, you felt the urge to accept his proposition.

“A-alright.” He nodded, keeping a straight face as he started undressing you.

He slowly started undoing the ribbon that kept your corset in place. Still in front of the mirror, you could see his concentrated features, not looking at anything but your back. Your mounds were finally liberated, and for a split second, you could see the tailor’s eyes staring at them.

“Raise your arms please.” Was he really not going to do anything? This was the part when the two main characters exchanged a heated session of kisses according to the novels you'd read. But he kept the same stoic face all the time.

“Ten?” This was the very first time you'd called him by his real name, well, his nickname.

He didn't seem bothered by it, concentrated on adjusting your corset.

“Yes, my lady?”

“Am I not attractive?” His hands accidentally tightened the ribbons too much, making you wince.

“Sorry.” He apologized, loosening the piece of clothing. “But why are you asking me this?”

“Well...” You were ashamed to admit it, but your curiosity got the best of you. “Aren’t men supposed to go wild over breasts? At least that's what I heard.” Ten would've never expected such an inappropriate comment from you, though he couldn't say he didn't like that new boldness of yours.

“I guess so.”

“Then why didn't you go wild over mine?”

The room was filled with nothing but silence for a couple of seconds before he finally found an appropriate answer for your question.

“I’ll ask you something first.” you nodded. “If you knew men had a thing for breasts, then why did you let me do this?” You would've liked to say that it was because you deeply trusted him, but you both knew that deep down, it wasn't completely true.

“I don't know.”

“Did you want to seduce me or something like that?” You were about to reply, but his deep laugh interrupted you. “Well, since you answered my question, I shall answer yours.” he finally finished adjusting your corset, placing his hands above the curves of your waist and leaning down to whisper something. “You have the most beautiful breasts I've ever seen. They look round and soft, the perfect size to hold them with my hand. But I can't allow myself to go wild over you, not when you're about to get engaged to someone else.” So the things wrote in novels weren't entirely fantasy, things like that did happen in real life. “Trust me, I wish nothing but to pinch those pretty, perky nipples and have you begging for more. But we can't.”

“Yes, we can.” With a newly found courage, you guided his hands up until they reached your mounds. They did, in fact, fit perfectly between his hands.

“My lady-”

“Y/n.” You held his hands against your warm body. “Please, my name is y/n.”

“Stop playing with fire.” His voice had become lower, hands shaking the slightest under yours.

“I want you to play with me, Ten. Use me, do whatever you want with my body. Alleviate the ache I'm feeling between my legs.” That was his breaking point.

His expert fingers quickly undid the knots, allowing his hungry eyes to have a look at your naked torso.

“Touch me.” he turned you around, so you were directly facing him.

“So greedy.” His hands covered your chest once again, this time with no fabric in between. His palms felt so warm against your skin, you couldn’t help but sight. “Tell me, how does your little cunt feel?”

“I-I’m sorry?” His right hand went down, rubbing circles over your undergarments. Immediate relief washed over your body.

“Do you know what an orgasm is?” You shook your head, gasping as his fingers pinched your hard nub. “It’s the only way to relief the ache you feel here.” He tapped your entrance with his middle finger, feeling your wetness under his digits.

“How can I have one?”

“You’ll have to trust me, alright?” His dominant demeanor had changed to a softer one, kissing your jawline as hands sneaked inside the fabric, a new, pleasant feeling making your legs shake. “How does this feel?”

“Nice.” He retrieved his hand, you whined at the loss of contact. “Hey!”

“Jump.” He instructed, lifting you up with both of his hands below your thighs. He guided you all the way to the nearest wall, your back pressed against the concrete surface. “Sorry for this.” He muttered before ripping your undergarments apart.

Skillfully, he lowered his pants, his hard member springing up. The moment his tip started slipping into your whole, an immense amount of pain made you scream.

“Stop!” Ten frowned, pulling away but still holding you against the wall.

“Have you changed your mind about this?” There was a hint of pain peeking through his voice.

“It hurts a lot.” As if to back up your words, a small tear rolled down your cheek.

“I know, sweetheart. But that's the way it's supposed to be.” If it hurt so much, then why did people do it so often? “You just need to get used to it and it'll start feeling better, I promise.”

“Really?” For you, it didn't make any sense.

“We can stop whenever you want, just give it a try.” You hesitantly nodded, letting him align with your entrance once again. “Deep breaths, darling.”

It was the worst pain you'd ever felt, even worse than that time when you fell off a horse. But just like the tailor had said, that unpleasant feeling was soon replaced with something else...something that made your tummy feel warm.

“You're doing so well.” He praised as if he wasn't the one doing all the hard work while you held onto his shoulders. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I need to pee.” You gasped, letting your head rest against the wall.

“Don't hold it back, darling. It means you're close.” His large hands caressed your sides, holding you tightly.

“Ten...” You whimpered, biting his clothed shoulder to stop yourself from screaming in pleasure. Something inside you exploded, making your body shake in ecstasy.

“Y/n.” You both whispered your names, pleasure taking over your minds.

“May I kiss you?” There was no response from him, his length still pulsating inside you. “If you don't want to that's-”

“Kiss me.” Your lips came closer to each other, barely millimeters away when a loud knock abruptly interrupted the moment.

“Miss y/n, Mr. Seo is here to see you.” Johnny, you'd completely forgotten about him.

“I guess you better get dressed.” He pecked your cheek, setting a fire inside you.

“I'm sorry.” He helped you put on your dress again, smiling at the sight of you trying to stop your and his essence from dripping down your bare thighs.

“Don't be.” Ten fixed your hair, proceeding to gather his stuff before sending a wink in your direction. “I guess I'll see you in a week to help you get dressed...my lady.”

[bellatrixobsessed1]

Light Disorientation

Azula Week Day 2: Azula Rare Pairs

Summary: Sometimes things distort in her mind. Sometimes she confuses the past with the present. Sometimes when she does, she is ugly in her mind.

Warnings: Mental Health Issues & Body Image Issues

Azula is not comfortable in her skin, more often than not it absolutely crawls. It helps very little that she is surrounded by such beautiful people. Katara with her mesmerizingly bright blue eyes and her deep complexion, Toph and her confident and charming smile, Suki and her toned arms and soft skin, Mai and her tall and elegantly willowy figure and TyLee with her...well, everything. Sokka has his muscular arms and a new collection of traditional Water Tribe tattoos. She doesn’t see Zuko’s appeal in the slightest but he has a vast crowd of giggling admirers. And while Aang isn’t exactly a looker, he’s got his heroics and his lovable mannerisms.

Perhaps, just a few years ago, in her prime, she had been something to look at and envy. But now...now she doesn’t want to look at herself even in passing. Her eyes have a bruised appearance, they are nowhere near as vivid as they had been. Her tangled locks aren’t so silky nor shiny. Her skin is drier somehow. In general, she thinks that she is muted, duller. She is hollow, her robes have a tendency to slide down her shoulders, more so than usual. And, unlike Aang, she doesn’t have a personality to make up for it. She isn’t approachable and endearing, her talents are terrifying. She has her itelligence but that never seems to matter anymore especially on the days when the clutter in her mind is too heavy for deep and critical thinking.  

She doesn’t like going on outings with the rest of them, no matter how well and forgivingly they treat her. She looks sloppy without the side by side comparison. With it...she cringes. Tonight she has subjected herself to the tortures of inferiority. TyLee had been so cheerful about the prospect of going to a party with her. The first one they’ve attended in ages. And she’d flashed that bright and cheerful little smile. That was all it had taken.

She is dressed as finely as she can be, but she doesn’t think that the outfit does her the favors she was hoping for and no amount of makeup seems to bring life to her expression. She is exceptionally dull with TyLee to her right and Katara to her left.

And by the middle of the party, they all have their own personal crowds. All except she. Azula’s stomach tickles with a discomfort that won’t seem to pass. She wishes that she was still beautiful or that she had some social graces. She wishes that she hadn’t let herself go so terribly far.

People pay her very little attention. And maybe she should be thankful for that. It means that they aren’t ridiculing her. That they aren’t informing her of things that she already knows, of the flaws she already sees.

She wishes that she had gotten better sleep, that she hadn’t chopped her bangs off, that she could muster up a better appetite, that she hadn’t started slacking on her training…

“Hi.”

She stares at her palms. She looks up to see that none of the crowds have dispersed, she wonders if she will ever get an opening to let one of the gang know that she is leaving. She thinks that she will slip out soon, they can find her at home.

She hears the clearing of her throat, “hello-o.”

Azula spares a glace over her shoulder.

The girl behind her waves, her face glows with a smile.

“What?”

The girl hums, “well you’re clearly the life of this party.” She drops down onto the couch next to her anyhow. “Is that why you’re alone?”

What a rude question. But it isn’t exactly untrue; she thinks that, among many other things, it is why she is alone now and always. She shrugs, “I guess. Probably.”

The girl rubs the back of her head. “Geez.”

Azula looks away from her again. Perhaps the girl will leave her alone if she doesn’t speak anymore. She isn’t so lucky. “Have you tried talking to anyone?”

Azula shakes her head.

“Why  not?”

She almost snapes, ‘because people ask too many questions.’ She only shrugs again and after a few moments she replies, “I guess that I don’t know what to say. People aren’t interested in Fire Nation history and battle strategizing.” They probably don’t want to be seen with someone so messy either.

“There are so many people here, you’re bound to find someone else that is.”

“Are you?”

“Nope,” the girl yawns, “boring.”

Azula’s face falls.

“But I’ll still listen if that’s what you want to talk about.”

She doesn’t want to talk about it. Or any of her other weird, and uninteresting interests.

“I’m Seicho, by the way.”

Azula nods, “why are you talking to me?”

“Well… you see, I recognize you. A while ago, before the war ended, there was a moment that has been haunting me ever since…”

Azula isn’t sure that she is following.

“And I had a few questions.”

“Such as?”

“You are princess Azula, right?”

She nods, though she wishes that she weren’t.

“And you did attend Chan’s beach party, right? That was you? The weirdo who laughs really loud and sets kuai ball nets on fire?”

Azula’s frown deepens. “What of it?”

“I just wanted to know why you put that drink on my head.”

“Your hands were full, where else was I supposed to put it?” It was quite simple really.

The girl laughs, “you could have held onto it or set it on some random table or something.”

She clears her throat, “your head was more convenient.”

“I...I guess…?” she laughs again. She stands up and for some reason Azula’s heart sinks. She thought that she might not be lonely tonight, but the girl has her answers and now she is...she is extending her hand out? Azula furrows her brows. “Do you know how to dance, princess?”

“I haven’t had a chance or a reason to learn.”

“It’s not that different from firebending, I’ll teach you a little something.” She offers.

If she knows what is good for her, she would stay out of the spotlight, keep attention well away from herself. The last thing that she needs is the entire party watching her decrepit body running clumsily through dance moves that she should have learned prior to attending. But she doesn’t want to be alone tonight. She isn’t sure what she will do if she is left alone…

She takes the girl’s hand. Azula doesn’t really want the attention. Not at all. The less eyes that take in her less than pleasing aesthetic, the better. But Seicho is a loud one. A bold one. And when she dips Azula back and pulls her up in time with the music for a third time she makes an announcement.

“I’m lucky!” She declares. “I have the prettiest dance partner in the room.”

She brushes Azula’s bangs out of her face--even, well trimmed bangs. Long bangs. And suddenly the illusion shatters. Suddenly her skin is soft with an even complexion. Suddenly her eyes aren’t so heavy and tired. Her frame is fuller and her lips uncracked. She remembers that she hasn’t been haggard and unhealthy in quite some time now. She remembers that sometimes things get distorted in her mind, that the past may layer itself over the future. She remembers that she is no longer fourteen and bound in chains. No longer sixteen and freshly emerging from an institution, exhausted and low.

She remembers that she is happy. This time when she looks in the mirror, the face that stares back at her is from the present; well groomed, healthy, and lively--albeit on the tired side tonight.

“Are you alright?” Seicho asks.

She thinks that she is, she is just...lightly disoriented. She needs a chance for her mind to catch back up to the present.  “I want to sit down for a moment.”

“Sure, princess.” Seicho replies, she guides Azula into a chair. “Would you like a drink?”

Azula nods.

They don’t hate her. Most people don’t. Most people are as indifferent as they ought to be. And they eyes that fall upon her aren’t judgmental, they are curious more than anything. She still isn’t a particularly social person, paradoxically, it is an invitation for more attention when she does attend parties.

Seicho holds out the glass, “just put it on the table this time, not my head, okay.”

“I think that I can manage.” She sips at the drink as the pieces shift back into place. She supposes that she should have known that she was having an off day when she overheard Zuko ask TyLee and Mai to keep an eye on her.

“So, what’s going on?” Seicho asks.

“Sometimes I…” She sets her drink aside. “Things get mixed up.” She points at her head. “I’m sure that you’ve heard by now…”

“Bits and pieces.” Seicho admits.

“Sometimes it feels like…” she furrows her brows, trying to articulate it. “Sometimes I go back to some of my worst days. Sometimes it’s full scale--I’m alone and I don’t have any friends. It feels like it anyhow. Other times it’s more of a blend.”

“A blend?”

“I know that they,” she gestures to the others, “are my friends.” It still feels strange to say, likely that is exactly what makes it so easy to forget when her head is not clear. “But I still feel like I did just after I was transferred to that facility.” Sometimes the image is so vivid in her mind that it appears in the mirror.

Seicho nods. “That sounds frightening.”

“I’m used to it.” It is a lie to make things less tense. Pity makes her uncomfortable anyhow.

“And that happened tonight?”

Azula nods. “It is a relief to know that I’m not a scraggly mess.” That she isn’t ugly and embarrassing to be around.

“It’s fine to be a scraggly mess sometimes.” Seicho replies.

“You didn’t see my haircut.” She grumbles.

“I’m sure that it was cute.” Seicho insists, ruffling her hair. “You have a pretty face, you can make it work.”

She shakes her head, “not then I didn’t.”

Seicho quirks a skeptical brow. She changes her approach. “Alright, fine, let’s say that you’re right…”

“I am right.”

“My point still stands. It’s okay to be a mess every now and again.” As if to accent her point she ruffles Azula’s hair entirely out of place. Azula grimances, this is something that she is still working on. Something that leaves her jittery.

“How about this?” Seicho offers. “You leave your hair like this for the rest of the night. If people treat you like shit for it then you can stick with your ridiculous standards.

“Ridiculous!?”

Seicho nods, “yes, ridiculous.”

Azula opens her mouth to protest. Seicho puts a finger to her lips. “You know what I think?”

Azula sighs, she has heard it so many times before from so many people from her therapist to TyLee. “That I’m perfect the way I am.”

Seicho crinkles her brows in disgust. “No! I think that you aren’t perfect, but it doesn’t really matter. You don’t have to be. If someone really loves or cares about you, they’ll look at your ugly haircut and decide that they like your pretty eyes enough to stay. They’ll acknowledge that you are uptight and cranky but they’ll stick around because you’re really smart and loyal.”

Azula swallows. “You’ve known me for maybe an hour…”

“And you leave some strong first impressions.” Seicho shrugs. “I was hoping that we can talk more after the party and I can see if I’m right.”

Azula’s stomach flutters. She has never been asked on a date before and she certainly hadn’t anticipated that to happen tonight. Agni knows that her lost and hurt fourteen year old self could have never conceptualized such a thing.

“That would be nice, Seicho.”

The girl grins. “Wonderful! Are you up for another dance?”

She lets the girl lead her back onto the dancefloor. Hair messy, dress slightly disheveled. And yet she feels much more confident than she had when she’d initially walked into the party.

[haunthouse]

welcome to a meta that, in retrospect, seems glaringly obvious, but that has hit me like a freight train this morning. we’re talking about the lonely as a ghost story.

ghosts as an entity are inherently about disconnect. but kaylee, i hear you say, ghosts are dead people, wouldn’t that make them in the end’s domain? but when it comes down to it, death is a good framing device for ghosts (and yeah, it’s necessary to make ghosts), but people don’t tell ghost stories just because they’re afraid of death. ghost stories are told because ghosts are irrevocably disconnected from the living in a way that terrifies us — sometimes they’re intentionally scary, knocking shit around or yelling boo!, but a lot of the time they’re just... there. and that’s the terrifying part. something that’s there and shouldn’t be; something that can’t interact with the world around it and is completely, utterly, terrifyingly alone.

ghost stories are about isolation, about being a person without any of the framework that being a person requires, without society or connection or love. being unseen and unheard and unknown to all around you — and trying so hard to reverse all those un-words, to be seen, heard, known. that’s exactly the domain of the lonely!

and onto the meat of this meta: all nine lonely-centric statements (and the journey of one martin blackwood) through the lens of ghost stories.

(spoilers for mag170 at the end, but each episode section is clearly marked, so feel free to skip it if you haven’t gotten that far yet!)

MAG013: ALONE

the first lonely statement we get (and also the first in-person statement! which is such a good inversion of the lonely being about lack of connection! jon doesn’t do a great job of comforting naomi, but he does stay with her as she gives the statement when she asks!! that’s beside the point but it is something i really love), and right off the bat, the ghost vibes are off the charts.

truly i am feeling absolutely idiotic for not really thinking about the ghosts-lonely connection before now because this statement? peak ghost story.

naomi’s fiance dies. naomi has several near-death experiences (crashes her car, then is hit by another car and winds up in the hospital), which is also a staple in a lot of ghost stories; nearly dying is set up as a way to get the living closer to the realm of ghosts, able to interact with them more clearly. it was a dark and foggy night in a graveyard, and standing at evan’s (open, empty) grave, naomi hears his disembodied voice leading her home.

when ghost stories are told from a distance, they’re about the horror of it — disembodied howling, faces in the window that keep you up at night. but when they’re told by someone close to the now-ghost, they’re love stories. it’s my grandmother hearing her father’s breathing one last time after his death, giving her a chance to say goodbye. it’s a familiar and loving presence, comforting you. that’s what naomi’s story is — the ghost of evan showing his love for her one final time.

MAG033: BOATSWAIN’S CALL

so, ships are meant to be places of community, right? ron @gerrydelano​ has a really good post about this regarding shanties. but ghost ships are an established trope of ghost stories: the inversion of what a ship should be, lacking all life and community, silently traversing the waters on its own.

the tundra is a ghost ship. it’s quiet (”very quiet... it was like they were doing everything in their power not to think about each other”) — the people there move around one another as if none of them are there, all so taken by the lonely. their cargo containers are empty. all they’re transporting on that ship is the ghosts of those aboard.

this episode falls into the trope of ghosts want the living to join them — though there’s still a mourning atmosphere when sean kelly is taken fully by the lonely, that final bit of life on the ship extinguished. (”no one said a word, but i could have sworn a few of my shipmates were crying.”)

MAG048: LOST IN THE CROWD

this one’s one of my favorites! andrea nunis’ statement deals with different kinds of loneliness — she begins it with explaining that she prefers to travel alone, but later, that loneliness is something terrifying. she’s in a crowd of unrecognizable people, unable to fit herself into the world she’s seeing — she’s completely separate from the rest of the world. she’s a ghost. 

“it wasn’t italian being spoken ... or any other language i recognized. the more i listened, the more i realized it wasn’t a language. there were no words, it was just noise.” “their faces were a blur, each and every one of them.” and, the crowning point: “i tried to talk to them or to shout, to scream at them, but there was no reaction.”

by being taken in by the lonely, andrea’s been turned into a ghost. she cannot interact with or even recognize her environment, and that’s the real horror — it isn’t just being alone, it’s being surrounded by something that should be familiar; a crowd is something she’s been in a thousand times, as someone who travels a lot, and people are the most familiar thing in the world, like looking in a mirror! but it isn’t. everything is strange and she is outside of it all and that’s what a ghost is.

and her connection to her mother is what pulls her out. people have talked at length about how love is the antidote to the lonely so i won’t go on too long about that, but the connection between that & ghosts’ relationships to the living often being what keeps them around is sure something.

also, after getting out of the lonely andrea says “i made sure i was always in sight of at least one other person” — and there’s something to be said there about needing to be seen to be real. 

chiara @red-reys​ brought up this feuerbach quote which fits very well: “that which i alone perceive i doubt; only that which the other also perceives is certain.” being the only one to perceive something (for example, a ghost), or the only one who is utterly unperceived, is a very lonely thing — it isolates you entirely from those who do not perceive it. being perceived, or having someone else see what you see, can give you an anchor.

wow i’m sure that won’t come back later!

also, far be it from me to talk about this statement without mentioning gerry keay. because it means something that he’s the one to give andrea the tools she needs to pull herself out of the lonely. gerry is someone completely lacking in human connection, who is literally haunted by the ghost of his mother and later is seen as a ghost himself. gerry doesn’t have friends; he tells jon “i always wanted my friends to call me gerry,” but in a tone that makes it clear he didn’t have anyone who could’ve. and of course he didn’t. a life so entwined with the entities and cut so short, a life so ruled by the cruelty of others that he certainly did not want to rope anyone else into. 

though gerry’s never directly stated to be affected by the lonely, he’s certainly lowercase-L lonely at the very least, and he’s certainly got enough experience with ghosts to understand the lonely. 

gerry is the trope of the helpful spirit. he’s the ghost who’ll give you directions on a deserted road and disappear when you turn around. he gives jon the information he needs to understand the entities, he gives andrea the information she needs to not become a ghost.

MAG057: PERSONAL SPACE

alright so this one is, admittedly, more cosmic horror than anything else, but if y’all’ve seen any of my comics you probably know i’m very passionate about space ghosts & haunted spaceships. and as such, i’m extremely interested in how the daedalus mission echoes ghost stories.

carter chilcott’s story pretty directly acts as a ghost story — unable to communicate with the others on the ship even when he tries, unable to interact with the world to the point of looking out the window at one point to find the world entirely missing. this is all stuff i’ve said already about the other statements, so i’m glossing past it, because what interests me more is the daedalus as malicious architecture.

because the daedalus was created specifically for this union between vast, lonely, and dark (all of which i think have significant ghostly tie-ins). everything about how the ship itself and the mission came to be is a mystery, even to those involved — manuela says “i don’t know how he convinced the lukases and fairchilds to help finance the project,” “i don’t know if they were working on rituals of their own,” “exactly how the launch was arranged, i couldn’t tell you.” 

a piece of the traditional haunted house is a sort of timelessness, and mystery inherent in its building. hill house in shirley jackson’s haunting of hill house “seemed somehow to have formed itself, flying together into its own powerful pattern under the hands of its builders... it was a house without kindness, never meant to be lived in, not a place fit for people or for love or for hope.” the oldest house in the game control is malicious architecture at its finest, and it’s called the oldest house. it predates people. it exists as a giant piece of brutalist architecture smack dab in the middle of new york, but no one knows why or how it came to be. as a real-world example: the winchester mystery house is wrapped up in mythos about its creation. was sarah winchester just a lonely old woman with a hobby for architectural design, or did she create endlessly spiraling staircases and doorways with a steep drop into the yard to keep ghosts away? who knows! we sure do like to speculate, though.

yes, i’ve talked about this in tma metas before. highly recommend jacob geller’s control, anatomy, and the legacy of the haunted house for more of this content.

even manuela dominguez, the only person on the daedalus mission who actually knew what she was doing and wasn’t just there to be a victim of entities they did not understand, does not know how the mission came to be. 

and the entire purpose of this spacecraft is to be malicious to its inhabitants! the very architecture is meant to make the people within into perfect snacks for their respective entities! the station is cramped (”so cramped that i could only fully stretch out in the section used to exercise,” says jan kilbride), but when the vast takes hold it’s suddenly endless — “a hollow pretense of a shell that did nothing to separate me from the void.” (cue me shouting about how much trust we put in the places we live, and whether or not that trust is warranted, how easily it can be turned against us!)

a few other bits of this statement that really echo ghost stories: “twice i was woken up by the sound of the door opening, only to find it as tight as it had ever been. throughout the daytime i would occasionally hear footsteps, which shouldn’t even have been possible in zero gravity.” and then the empty, ghostly spacesuit that floats past chilcott’s window — there are so many stories about disembodied wedding dresses or mourningwear walking the halls silently, so why not a spacesuit?

i started this section saying this statement was more cosmic horror than ghost story but i’m finishing it by saying this is actually one of the clearest representations of haunted architecture in the whole podcast. (other examples off the top of my head include upon the stair & a cosy cabin, the latter of which i actually already wrote a meta about.)

MAG092: NOTHING BESIDE REMAINS

the moment i started thinking about the lonely-ghosts connection i remembered this episode, because it’s so clear. complete disconnect, existing entirely alone in a shadow of the world you once knew, unable to interact with the living in any way.

very small bit but. “as the cab pulled away, it seemed to have no driver that i could discern” vs the theme of ghost carriages in older ghost stories. i am looking directly at it.

barnabas bennett can “almost think i hear the mocking joy of my friends, but there is nobody here.” he can see evidence that life continues around him, unseen — “i know that what is done by those i cannot see might be felt here — i have found glasses broken and pages torn that were not so the night before.” just as a ghost is unseen to the living, the reverse is true: bennett can see others having an impact on the world in small ways, and his letter is found by jonah, but he can’t really affect the world in any real way.

MAG108: MONOLOGUE

this one is so exciting to me because theater ghosts are a huge trope in ghost stories! theater people are some of the most superstitious people you’ll ever meet! especially regarding ghosts having an impact on their shows — there’s the superstition regarding The Scottish Play™, the tradition of leaving a ghost light on onstage to appease the spirits. there’s that time all the kids in my production of brigadoon when i was in middle school circled around the makeup mirrors to play bloody mary and got thoroughly chewed out by the adults in the cast. theater’s full’a ghosts!

(i think it’s something about the intense amounts of history behind it — and how, in playing a part that a thousand people have played before, you’re echoing their exact words, becoming a repetition of those long gone. and on a stage, blinding lights in your face washing out any view of the audience — you could, technically, leave the stage and interact with the people down there, but it seems pretty entirely impossible when you’re up there. you’re being perceived but can’t see in return. you’re essentially a ghost putting on a show for the living on a loop.)

the statement-giver for this one, adonis biros, echoes a lot of those sentiments, actually. “your words heard by no one — and in that no one, an entire universe.” “have you ever had stage lights in your eyes? ...you can look out into the audience and see nothing at all. just you.”

i said before that “when ghost stories are told from a distance, they’re about the horror of it — disembodied howling, faces in the window that keep you up at night.” the disconnect between the anonymous audience and the singular actor onstage makes the distance here extreme — so this is the sort of ghost story that’s unquestionably a horror story, focusing on the most chilling aspects of ghosts. their inhumanity, their anonymity. the theater masks adonis sees in the audience are “empty. it was a hollow shape of a man that had no life, no presence to it.” even adonis himself says he “had no doubt that what i had seen was some sort of specter or omen.”

he sees a “masked mockery of a human figure” in a window while walking at night. ghosts looking through windows is enough of a trope that once, when i went on a ghost tour in williamsburg, at least half the stories were about people seeing ghostly faces in windows, and i completely freaked out when i saw someone moving around in one of the houses before realizing, oh, some of them are still actually occupied.

this one’s undoubtably a collaboration between stranger and lonely, but i think that intersection’s one of the best for ghost stories — something not-quite-human-anymore, if it ever was, haunting you.

MAG150: CUL-DE-SAC

a lot of the bare bones of this statement are things i’ve already covered, so i’m not gonna go too in-depth on it. herman gorgoli’s statement is about disconnect (from alberto, and then from the rest of humanity), about isolation, about houses-gone-wrong (his and alberto’s house in cheadle, which he views by the end as a place imprisoning him, and the titular cul-de-sac).

we’ve seen the malicious architecture trope in the form of the daedalus already, but this time it’s on earth. it’s something that should, by all rights, be familiar. the houses in the suburbs are all the same, but it’s at least a sameness you know. but they’re all bereft of any irregularities, ghostly echoes of what a house should be.”there were no lights on in any of the houses.” he even finds a dead body in one of the houses — but the woman who’s body he finds is not the one haunting them.

it’s herman haunting the neighborhood, until his love for alberto brings him out. herman making his way through houses he cannot interact with in any meaningful way, whos details he cannot interpret. “how many corpses lay waiting behind the placid facade of this endless false suburbia?” he wonders, and i have to imagine he’s also wondering if he’s already joined their ranks, if he’s the haunting in a haunted house.

and connection brings him back and the houses are no longer empty, no longer waiting for a ghost to take resident in their hallways.

MAG159: THE LAST   (& martin’s journey in season four, generally)

we’ve all analyzed 159 within an inch of its life but i’m here to do it again, with the context of martin’s whole journey into the lonely. because the lonely turns people into ghosts. the lonely takes away humanity and life and leaves a hollow echo in its wake.

literally the powers lonely avatars have involve turning invisible. what else is often associated with invisibility? ghosts. checkmate. i’m running out of steam a bit but i swear these are good points i’m making. trust me.

what makes ghost stories so good is that even if the narrator is not a ghost themselves, just experiencing a ghost puts them at a fundamental disconnect from society. it’s something disbelieved by so many people. (there’s parallels to be made with mental illness here, but i... don’t really feel like making them right now. they’re definitely there, as is the very potent lonely-depression connection that made ep170 hit so hard for so many of us.) in hill house, the more eleanor is wrapped up in the goings-on of the house, the less she’s able to relate to the other people there. the closer martin becomes to the lonely, the less he’s able to talk to the people around him — he’s told not to talk to them by lukas, but he’s also just... unable to relate. their experiences are different than his, at this point.

nicole @brunetteauthorette99​ said something really good in our conversation about this, about ghosts “being stuck in... spaces that have moved on without them, reenacting their defining moments in life over and over again without the possibility of change.”

martin is stuck in the institute. he probably has an apartment, but we don’t see it, and i can’t imagine he as he is by season four has put much effort into decorating it or making it feel like a home. every place is impersonal — somewhere he exists without really living.

and the institute moves on without him. jon goes into the coffin and martin doesn’t know until he’s already in there. and martin can impact his environment only in small ways — leaving tape recorders on the coffin in an attempt to anchor jon home, leaving the tape of jon’s victim for melanie, basira, and daisy to find. he will not or cannot speak to or touch other living beings, just move objects around in a desperate attempt to get a message across, a ouija board of tapes and post-it notes. his moment of rejecting the lonely’s plans in 158 is dropping the knife peter has given him — another expression more through his interactions with his environment than any human connection.

martin says the lonely always had him, and with how much his story revolves around people who may as well be ghosts, that’s true. his father disappeared and left only the image martin had of him in his mind, only the echo he himself provided in the mirror, the ghost of someone who hurt him overlaid on his own reflection. his mother was only present so far as she could be malicious, disapproving; a vengeful ghost, taking out the revenging instinct she had for martin’s father on martin. and then everyone else martin cares about dies — sasha’s gone and not!sasha acts as her malicious echo for a while; tim dies; jon dies. and yeah, he comes back — but he’s different. a ghost of sorts. martin’s already pretty ghostly by then, too.

so martin is, essentially, a ghost throughout season four, and probably beforehand, as well. jon literally! asks martin! if he is a ghost! in season one! which brings us to 159: “are you real?” martin asks the first living person he’s really talked to in who-knows-how-long. because martin doesn’t feel real, so how could anyone else be? “nothing hurts here” may be a contradiction of the literal experience of ghosts we see in tma (gerry saying “it hurts, being like this”), but is a very real perception of ghosts in ghost mythology as beings beyond pain, beyond the suffering of being alive. sometimes they exist to cause others that suffering they can no longer feel, but a lot of the time, they’re just melancholy, having forgotten what it’s like to be a person or hanging on just enough to yearn to return to that feeling of life.

“i’m the reason he... i did this to him as much as you,” jon says. in ghost terms: martin died for him. of course his connection to jon, then, would be the only thing able to bring him back.

mag159 is an orpheus/eurydice story — people have made posts about that before, i’m sure, and i have too, how jon and martin invert the orpheus archetype by being saved rather than damned by the act of sight. and it feels obvious to state it, but for clarity: eurydice dies. orpheus, alive, tries to save eurydice from the underworld, where she is a spirit, a ghost, an echo of herself.

MAG170: RECOLLECTION   —   (SPOILER WARNING!)

this episode is the reason i’m making this post, but i may as well copy-and-paste the entire transcript for this section, because there is truly not a single part of it that doesn’t resonate as a ghost story. 

the lonely house as a malicious location. the chairs are all uncomfortable, the house is large enough that just by wandering it (as a ghost might) martin grows tired enough to sit in them regardless. the decorations are wrong — all the rooms are the same and martin doesn’t like it, said he doesn’t know “why i’d decorate my house like this.”

it isn’t a small house. there’s a reason a lot of ghost stories take place in twisting mansions where you can never quite find your way back to where you started. ghost stories thrive on that isolation, that loneliness — if you see a ghost while you’re alone, are you sure you’ll be believed? doesn’t that just isolate you further? architecture can twist around those within it until they’re trapped, doomed to haunt it themselves. “it's such a - such a big house, my house, there must be other people!” martin says. 

but the only others in the house are ghosts like martin. 

“hundreds, thousands of lost souls, wandering the halls. hollow memories, with eyes full of tears. i’ve seen them. they’re all trying to remember.” 

“i found someone else, wandering around. they were all thin and gray. faded. like they’d been here for ages.”

the ghosts cannot remember their names, why they are there, whether or not it is their house they exist in. they’ve become near-inseparable from the fog around them and the architecture that holds them hostage.

and the house itself, it takes all of that, and its quirks — the size, the chairs, the decorations, all of which martin openly does not like — are all made from the people haunting it. the house is wrong because the people within it can no longer change it. martin’s comment on the decorations sticks with me because it’s such a simple example of this: presumably, he could affect the house in some way in the past, but he no longer can, and he’s stuck with the results of his past mistakes, echoing over and over from room to room. the impacts remain even when the people have faded so far as to be practically nonexistent.

and once again: love is what makes him remember, over and over. he remembers jon, and then the lonely steals that memory — but the remembering is what’s important, because the act of loving anchors martin, and it helps him remember who he is, repeating his name over and over.

ghosts lack identity. whether it’s because they’ve been forgotten by all who knew them in life, whether it’s because it’s too painful to hold onto that when they can no longer do anything with it — we assign names to ghost stories, connect them to the living, but there’s always a disconnect there.

and that’s what helps jon find him, helps martin keep himself from fading out again. and even jon says “you were faint” upon finding martin. martin was a ghost haunting that house.

but not anymore.

the lonely is a ghost story. the lonely is about people who’ve become unmoored from human connection and their own identities, who haunt places, or who’ve been lured into places that are hauntings in and of themselves and have no choice but to take up residence as ghosts within those walls.

and ghost stories, often, are love stories. love keeps us tethered to life, and love is what saves people from the lonely, over and over again.

[ffangirlingsince2001]

End of the Tunnel: XV

Description: It’s almost been a year since Fred Weasley was lost to the Battle of Hogwarts, and for George Weasley it might as well be an eternity. He is lost in the dark, no color to be found. Until suddenly there might be a light at the end of the tunnel.

Warnings: Fluff

MASTERLIST

***

Seven months later Hannah was staring at herself in the mirror, taking deep, calming breaths as she shook with excitement. Four women were rushing around the room behind her, panic pulling them back and forth as they struggled to get ready in time, but Hannah could only daydream, still wearing nothing but the satin robe Caroline had handed her that morning.

She had been dreaming about this day since George knelt down on one knee, and it would have been here much sooner had the combined forces of Mrs. Weasley and her own mother not demanded the celebration be grand. They had whispered about eloping as they laid in bed, wrapped in each other’s arms, but the idea had always vanished at the thought of their mothers’ wrath.

Now the day was finally here.

“Hannah, my god, do you even want to get married?” Sloane cried out when she finally noticed the daydreaming girl. Hannah giggled as she was yanked away from the mirror and to her feet by her maid of honor. They twirled around the room, laughing as they bumped into the edges of furniture. Sloane pulled Caroline into their little dance, and when the two mothers returned, they found a pile of giggling girls rolling among the bedsheets.

“It’s almost one,” Mrs. Weasley gasped, staring at the three girls, including the bride, who were the furthest thing from ready.

“I thought that was what magic was for, waiting until the last minute,” Caroline quipped from the sheets.

“It is, but last time I checked you don’t have any,” Sloane replied, tapping the younger girl’s nose before pulling her towards the wardrobe where their dresses were hanging.

When Hannah was younger, she had wanted nothing more than yellow bridesmaids’ dresses. When her mother took her to the shops, she took great pride in running her fingers over the yellow section of the store, determining exactly what dresses they would wear as they began the wedding procession. Today, that was a dream that would not be coming true. After a great many hours of fighting between what she had dreamed of for years and what present her secretly wanted. Sloane had finally stepped in and chastised her for her loyalty to nostalgia and that was all that was needed for the yellow dresses that refused to be any other color became powder blue. The color Ginny had informed her was Fred’s favorite color.

While her childhood bridesmaid dresses had been forgotten, her dress certainly hadn’t. The skirt was layers and layers of tulle that floated about her legs. The bodice was beaded into patterns of flowers, and the shimmer contrasted the stark white of the skirt. She let Sloane magic diamonds into the curls of her hair until she looked like the fairy queens she had read about in fairytales as a child. As she transformed, she stared out the window to the real fairytale, George.

He was waving his wand across the courtyard, summoning things beneath a silver tent. She craned her neck to see what appeared, but the angle was too harsh to ease her curiosity. So, instead she watched George. He wasn’t in his suit yet, opting instead for his sleep shirt and a pair of plaid pants she had bought him for Christmas. His feet were bare against the morning dew that hadn’t yet evaporated in the July sun. If she had been within earshot, she would have chastised him, worried he was going to catch a cold. Instead, because she wasn’t, she merely watched him, not entirely sure she could believe by the end of the day she would be Mrs. Hannah Weasley.

The last time she had dreamed about getting married had been Year 5 when Donald O’Donoghue had asked to hold her hand during recess. It was the only moment she had deviated from her yellow dress obsession, when he told her his favorite color was lime green; however, after realizing his hands were very sweaty (and viewing the dress options in his choice color) she realized they were not a compatible match. She had had other boyfriends of course, but she never was able to imagine them at the end of the aisle. She hadn’t even been able to imagine George, and now that the day was here, she kept pinching herself. He was so perfect, and so wonderful, and so incomparable that the fact he had chosen her was a miracle in itself.

Suddenly, he looked up and smiled as he caught her smile through the glass. She smiled back, heart still fluttering at the little grin he seemed to save just for her. She waved and tragically caught the others’ attention, who gasped before collectively yanking the curtains closed.

“You can’t let him see you,” her mother scolded, and she rolled her eyes, raising her fingers to peak out once more, disappointed to find he had disappeared from view.

“We’ll be okay,” she whispered, smiling when she caught a butterfly escape the confines of the tent and traipsed through her open window. It landed on the skirt of her dress and somehow, she knew it was all his doing, a small message that the butterflies were real. She felt herself tearing up, laughing softly to herself at the possibility that it might not even be him, but a simple butterfly.

“Oh dear, Hannah, are you alright?” Molly asked, taking her hand as she crouched down beside the teary-eyed girl.

“I just love him, y’know,” she whispered and suddenly Molly was crying along with her. They laughed as they wiped away their tears, muttering nonsense about eyeliner they both knew would be long gone by the end of the ceremony. “I’m glad you’re okay with me,” she whispered, and Molly instantly dried her tears, replacing profound joy with confusion.

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“Because I’m not like you, our children might not, and I’ll never understand everything,” she rambled, tears gathering again, and Molly pulled her into a bone crushing hug.

“Don’t you ever think that. I love you like my own, and it doesn’t matter as long my son is happy, and you make him happy,” she replied and then they were both sobbing quietly amidst the chaos of the morning.

A knock at the door startled them, and they both quickly dried their eyes as Caroline answered the door. A blond boy poked his head in and any worries that were left about the day melted away at the sight of her best friend.

“Can you give us a second?” she asked, and the woman filed out of the room, only Sloane pausing to kiss him hard enough his lips were printed with the lipstick she was wearing. When the door shut, she stood, and they stared at one another in comfortable silence.

“You look beautiful,” he finally said, and she laughed, brushing away a tear that threatened to fall. “I’m not kidding, and I’m glad it’s George. I never thought I’d say it, but if the first person who decided to care about me has to marry anyone, I’m glad it’s him.”

“My, my, when did you get so sappy?” she teased, if only to stop herself from shedding more tears and he rolled his eyes.

“Leave it to you to make fun of me for being heartfelt for once,” he replied with the same deadpan expression he always used in response to her teasing. She rolled her eyes and in two steps she was hugging him. He hugged her back and she smiled; it was all she needed to know that everything was going to be perfect. “Listen, this isn’t totally why I’m here,” he said, pulling out of the hug with a mischievous grin.

“Oh?”

“Yes, I’m the distraction.”

“The distraction?”

“For this,” he said before spinning her around to a freshly apparated George, wearing a suit and a blindfold. She giggled, stepping forward, barely aware of Draco leaving the room as she took George’s hands in her own.

“Hi George,” she whispered, and she could practically feel him shaking with excitement. She reached up to touch the fabric covering his eyes. “I like the blindfold, very kinky.”

“It’s the only way he would distract them,” he replied, “These people and their traditions.”

“Tell me about it.”

“Doesn’t matter of course, I don’t need to see you to know you look beautiful.” She could only blush, sure if she opened her mouth, he would know how choked up she really was. Even with the blindfold he was entirely too handsome. “And it doesn’t matter how pretty your dress is, because by the end of the night of the night I’m going to rip it off you.”

“I think you mean gently unlace it.”

“Are you marrying someone else today?”

“No.”

“Then when have you ever known me to unwrap something gently?” Now she was glad for the blindfold, that way he couldn’t see how brightly she was blushing. The sound of storming up the stairs caught her off guard and she suddenly felt like a child caught with her hand in the cookie jar.

“Kiss me.”

“What?”

“I can’t wait any longer, kiss me,” she gasped, panicking as the footsteps got closer. While she wanted to admire the little lopsided grin, he gave her, she took his silence as a moment to kiss him before shoving him back as he apparated back to his part of the house. When the door swung open, she was alone once more, only her guilty smile suggesting he had been there.

George landed in his room and ripped off the blindfold. Ron and Draco looked at him and he grinned. Bloody hell, he was lucky. Just as he had said to her, he didn’t need to see her to know that she was the most radiant thing he had ever seen. He just knew, he could sense it by the way her skin touched his and the way she felt when she kissed him. He adjusted his cufflinks, admiring the newest addition to the clock before making his way outside to the tent he had spent all morning.

It had been a task, convincing Hannah to let him decide the decorations, but once she had agreed it had been a breeze. It was easy pleasing the love of his life, especially when he had the best interrogators working in his favor. Sloane had pressed her for details about everything she wanted and then some, finding out all the creative workings of her mind before passing every bit of knowledge over to him. Now, butterflies that left gold trails drifted around the room and vines of orchids twisted into pillars that held up the tent. The white benches held their friends and family, some (his dad) already crying. He made his way around the room, checking to make sure everyone was seated, too nervous to sit around and wait for the ceremony to begin.

At the front, beside his teary father was an empty seat. He stepped forward, wondering who the seat could be saved for when his heart jolted. Emblazoned in gold across the back was the name that had once haunted him, and then a small table card caught his eye. He lifted it up with shaking fingers and almost began to cry in front of the entire congregation. In Hannah’s terrible handwriting were the words, “Wouldn’t want him to miss it.” He looked up, searching for whoever had placed it there and was only met with a wink from Malfoy. He offered him a grateful smile before placing the card down once more and taking his spot at the altar. He hadn’t chosen a best man, knowing that no one could replace who it should have been and having Malfoy as the other groomsman was the last thing he would have expected, but nothing could have been more perfect. No one had protested when the choice was made, and the confused boy had even been invited to family dinner for the rest of eternity.

Suddenly, the music began, and the crowds stood to watch as Caroline and Sloane made their way down the aisle in powder blue dresses. He lovingly shook his head at his soon to be wife. She never failed to surprise and replacing the yellow she never seemed to stop raving about with powder blue was certainly one for the books.

And then there she was, smiling at him like an angel. His eyes filled with tears to match hers, and he let them slide down his face without shame, because there she was, the beginning of profound joy and the end of the tunnel.

The End

[crazy-fangirl1245]

Here is my fanfic @plancesecretsanta for @its-ren-hakuryuu-me!  Per your request, I wrote about Pidge and Lance’s first date (*cough* which may or may not be inspired by an episode of Steins;Gate *cough*).  I hope you enjoy it, and Merry Plancemas! <3

“Allura, are you sure this is a good idea?”

Usually, whenever someone in the castle said those words, it meant that the suggested idea was most certainly not a good idea. But Allura was so excited that Pidge was about to go on her first date with Lance (and her first date ever!) that she had forgotten that little piece of information.  Not that anyone could blame her.  Pretty much the entire universe had been waiting for Pidge and Lance to go on a date for almost a deca-phoeb.

“Of course it is!” the princess gushed as she looked the tiny girl over.  “You look fantastic!”

Pidge turned around to look in the mirror and pursed her lips.  She knew she was supposed to feel pretty, but she just felt awkward.  It had been such a long time since she’d dressed like a…girl.

Allura had used some of the ship’s gadgets to fashion her a magenta knee-length dress with short sleeves and ballet flats.  She had then spent a couple hours pinning Pidge’s short honey-blonde hair back with a few tiny jewels.  Pidge knew that as the only other girl on the ship, Allura was really excited to have the opportunity to give her a makeover like this, but she was already nervous about this date and completely changing her entire look didn’t really help her anxiety.

When Lance had asked her for a date right in the middle of a mission (more accurately, in the middle of a particularly brutal fight), she’d been so stunned that she’d almost gotten blasted away and would have been if Lance hadn’t knocked her out of the way just in time.

“Is this really the right time for that?” she’d asked breathlessly.

“Well, I figured since we may or may not get out of this, I better stop putting off asking the question and just come out with it,” he’d answered in that infuriatingly confident voice of his.  “So how about it?”

After it was confirmed that the mission was won and they weren’t actually marked for death, Pidge had agreed.  It was obvious to everyone that she and Lance had a special connection, one she’d thought multiple times about furthering, but she was worried that taking the next step would ruin everything they shared.  What if this date was a disaster and they’d never be able to look each other in the eye anymore?  Or worse, what if their connection after tonight was so severed that they were never able to form Voltron again?

Pidge shook her head as she took off her glasses.

There was no use thinking of all the things that could go wrong. She might as well hope that everything went right.

But if the sinking feeling in her stomach was any indication, she had a bad feeling about this.

 ******

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Lance asked.  “I feel like a dork.”  He quickly turned to glare at Keith.  “Don’t say anything.”

Keith closed his mouth.

“You feel like a what?” Coran asked.

“Never mind.”

Lance looked in the mirror at the formal brown suit Coran had forced him to put on.  He felt so awkward.  When was the last time he’d worn a suit?  Had he ever worn a suit?

“I have read up extensively on Earth dates so we could ensure that everything goes perfectly for you and Number Five, and it is a well-known fact that you’re always supposed to dress your best.”

Lance supposed he should consider it lucky that Coran had dressed him in something normal instead of something outrageously hideous that was considered some kind of Altean traditional wear.

“Yeah, but I look…weird.”

“Nonsense.”  Coran turned to Hunk who was eating a snack in the corner.  “Will you tell him he looks great?  It’s also a well-known fact that one is supposed to have encouragement from his fellow men before one goes on a date.”

Keith shrugged.  “I’ve seen worse.”

Lance rolled his eyes.  “Perfect, that makes me feel so much better.”

Hunk smiled at his friend.  “Relax, you look awesome.  It’s about time you asked her out.”

Lance looked back in the mirror and smiled fondly as he recalled finally building up the courage to ask Pidge on a date.  Well, ‘building up the courage’ as in ‘being fired upon and wanting to die without regrets’.

He had to admit, he was kind of surprised she ended up agreeing. And even though he was nervous about taking this next step into the unknown with someone he admired so much, he was also excited about what might lay ahead for them.

“Well, I can’t keep her waiting,” Lance said.

He ran his hands over his gelled hair and went out to the main deck.

 *******

Pidge took a deep breath, and then walked out onto the main deck where she was to meet Lance.

She awkwardly cleared her throat, and he turned around. Her cheeks reddened when she watched him stare at her.  She noticed that he had dressed into a brown suit and gelled back his hair, and while she’d admit that he looked really handsome, it also felt strange to see him wearing something other than his gray t-shirt and brown jacket and his hair actually styled rather than him just running his fingers through it and calling it a day.

Lance wasn’t sure if he’d ever seen Pidge up close without her glasses before, but he’d never quite realized how pretty and striking her brown eyes were.

And he’d definitely never seen her in a dress.  He could feel his face warm as he looked at her shyly clutching the skirt of it in her hands and looking everywhere but at him.

Since when did she get nervous around him?

Lance confidently strode up to her and offered his arm. “Shall I show you to your table, milady?”

With a nervous and awkward smile, Pidge took his arm and he escorted her to the dining area where Allura, Coran, and the other Paladins had arranged a beautiful candlelit dinner for them.

Lance pulled Pidge’s chair out for her before sitting down himself.

It would be wonderful to say that Pidge’s fears were unfounded, the date went perfectly, and she and Lance chatted comfortably until the morning.

Unfortunately, this was not the case.

The dinner was a very long and awkward affair, and for both of them, it couldn’t end fast enough.  Neither of them seemed to be able to think of things to say, and there were so many stretches of silence that they both secretly hoped for a sudden Galra attack that would cut the date short.

Lance didn’t understand.  If Pidge was so against the idea of a date, why had she agreed in the first place?  Was it out of pity?  Did she just not want to hurt his feelings?  Had he read the connection between them completely wrong?

After what felt like an eternity, Pidge stood up from the table.  “I think I’ll head back to my room now.”

Lance stood up as well.  “Oh, let me escort you.”

“No!  No, that’s okay.  Thanks for the date, Lance.”

“Yeah.  Sure.”

Lance watched Pidge hurry away as if Zarkon himself was on her tail.  Geez, was he really that bad at dating?  Sure, he’d never actually been on a real date before despite being a (self-proclaimed) ladies’ man, but he didn’t think he would fail so spectacularly at it.

With a long and heavy sigh, he abandoned the table and the rest of their unfinished meal to go see Blue.  At least he still had a connection with her.

When he entered the hangar containing his massive mechanical lion, he felt Blue tensing up and getting ready to blow him to smithereens.

“Easy, girl, it’s me,” Lance said quickly.  “Come on, I don’t need you hating me too.”

He felt Blue relax.

“You didn’t recognize me in this getup, huh?”

A gentle prodding in his mind made him feel a need to explain why he currently wanted space to swallow him whole.

“I went on a date with Pidge.”

Lance could feel a jolt of surprise and then a kind warmth inside him.

“Yeah, well, let’s just say…it didn’t go well.  I don’t understand what happened.  We’ve always gotten along so well before.  Why should one date change everything?”  He flung off his suit jacket and leaned against Blue’s right paw.  “I mean, I’ve liked her for a while now which I’m sure you know.  I’ve been wanting to go on a date with her for ages.  I just wish she felt the same way.  Am I really that bad to hang out with?  I mean, that was one of the most painful experiences of my life.  I’d rather be shot by Sendak again than endure another dinner like that.  I just don’t get it.  We’ve always been comfortable around each other.”

Lance looked at his discarded suit jacket and recalled Blue’s feelings of unease when he first entered the hangar because she hadn’t recognized him when he’d first approached.

“Wait a minute…that’s it.  We’ve always been comfortable around each other.  But tonight, we weren’t our normal selves. We were trying to be someone else. No wonder it went so poorly.”

Lance quickly scooped up the suit jacket and started running out of the hangar.

“Thanks, Blue!”

With no time left to waste if he wanted to salvage what was left of their night, Lance changed back into his normal clothes, restored his hair to its usual mussiness, and rushed down to Pidge’s room.

“Pidge?” he called, knocking on her door.

No answer.

“Pidge, come on.  I’m not leaving until you at least give me a chance here.”

After a few more seconds of silence, the door slid open. Pidge had yet to change out of the dress, but she had put her glasses back on and had taken all of the pins out of her hair to let it resume falling naturally around her shoulders.

She looked down at the floor.  “What?”

“Let’s pretend that the last couple of hours never happened and completely start over.”

“Lance—”

“Come with me!”

Giving her no time to protest, Lance grabbed her hand, practically dragged her down to the hangar, and brought her onto Blue.

“What are you doing?” Pidge asked quickly.  “Where are we going?”

“Do you know why people date?”

The girl sighed.  “To get to know each other and see if they want to pursue a relationship?”

“Sure, that’s one reason.  Or people date because they genuinely enjoy spending time with each other and want a reason to spend even more time with each other and have fun together.  The problem is that we were doing things the first way.  We got dressed up and tried to make a good impression.  But we passed that stage months ago.  We probably know each other better than most couples by now. So instead of doing that, let’s go to the place where we’ve had the most fun so far.”

In a few minutes, Pidge’s lips curved up into a real smile for the first time all night.

Lance had brought her to the Space Mall.

“Do you think that mall security guy will remember us?” Pidge asked.

Lance shrugged.  “If he does, we’ll just figure out a way to escape before he can catch us.”

Now this seemed more like them: walking straight into the face of potential danger and deciding that they were just going to wing it.

Blue set down outside the mall and allowed her two passengers to disembark.

“We’ll be back in a bit, girl,” Lance smiled as he lightly rubbed his hand over her paw.  “While we’re gone, stay safe and don’t talk to strangers.”

Lance took Pidge’s hand in his and bounded inside the mall. Pidge couldn’t deny that she was rather charmed by his excitement.

“So where should we go first?” he asked her.

“We’ve only been to one store in here before.  I don’t even know what else there is.”

“Let’s hit up the food court.  I want to see if they’re still using Hunk’s dishes.”

Lance led the two of them down to the other end of the mall where several restaurants were advertising their various meals and desserts. Nothing looked particularly appetizing to them, but they nearly doubled over with laughter when they noticed that a poorly drawn rendition of Hunk’s face was hanging above the stall for Vrepit Sal’s along with the words ‘If it ain’t perfect, it ain’t coming out of this kitchen!’

“Oh, I cannot wait to tell him this,” Lance smirked.  “You want anything to eat?”

Pidge looked at a plate of what looked like tentacles.  “I think I’ll pass.”

“Probably a wise choice.”

When they passed by a clothing store, Pidge elbowed Lance and pointed out an utterly atrocious green full-body outfit with blue polka dots. “I dare you to try that on.”

“Dare accepted.”

So they walked into the store, and Lance tried on the outfit. Somehow, it looked even worse off the rack.  Pidge thought she might die of laughter when Lance stepped out of the changing room.

“You look like a sick leprechaun who ate too many marshmallows!” she gasped.

“All right, all right, you’ve had your fun, now it’s my turn.” Lance picked out a long tacky orange dress with horrendously puffy sleeves accompanied by a matching hat that was about the length of Pidge herself.  “Here you go.”

“I’m not wearing that.”

“If I’m looking like a fat, sick leprechaun, you can put on the universe’s worst red-carpet look.”

Pidge reluctantly took the dress from him and went into the changing room.  The beam overhead sized her up then zapped the dress and hat onto her body.

Pidge thought she might die of embarrassment when she stepped out of the changing room.  The dress was so long on her short body that it went well past her feet and the arms went so far past her hands that she couldn’t even roll them up.  The worst part was the hat.  Why anyone would want a hat so big was beyond her.  She couldn’t take one step without knocking clothing off the racks.

Lance tried to stifle his giggles but his efforts proved futile.  “This is worse than a failed red-carpet look.  This is like…this is like…I don’t even have any words.  It’s terrible!”

Pidge rolled her eyes and started laughing with him.  “I feel like an idiot.”

“Join the club.  I say we pick things we thing we might actually look good in now.  Here, try this on.”

Pidge took the new dress from him and quickly stepped back into the changing area.  She didn’t even care what he’d picked out, anything had to be better than this orange monstrosity.

The beam zapped off the dress she was half-wearing then zapped on the new one.  She was too nervous to look in the mirror, so she just stepped out.

Lance’s eyes widened when he saw her, and he could feel his face warm again.  “Whoa. Pidge…you have to get that.”

At his genuine reaction of admiration, Pidge turned around to look in the changing room mirror.  The dress Lance had picked for her was long-sleeved with a sheer neckline.  It faded between dark blue, indigo, purple, and pink, and stars clustered together all over it.  She looked like she was wearing a galaxy.

“You like it?” she asked quietly.

“It looks amazing,” Lance answered.

“I like it too.”  It definitely suited her much better than the magenta dress.  “I’ll get it then.”

“Okay, pick one for me.”

“But I like your shirt and jacket the most.”

“Well, then shirt and jacket it is.”

Lance went into the changing area and zapped out of the hideous green polka-dotted outfit and back into his normal clothing.

“As long as you don’t mind you looking so much better than me?”

“It’s not hard to do that,” Pidge smirked.

Lance laughed and went to the counter to pay for Pidge’s dress.

When they walked outside, he took her hand and smiled.  “Come on, we’ll go check out that Earth shop again. I want to see if they have any more video games.”

“Ooh, and I want to know if they have any add-ons!”

The two of them casually walked back to the only shop they were familiar with in the mall and once again happened upon the alien shopkeeper who dressed like a grandparent trying to fit in with the younger generation.

“Ah, welcome back, friends.  Tell me, how’s Kaltenecker?”

“She’s as beautiful and perfect as ever,” Lance smiled. “I’m not really sure why you gave us a free cow, but thanks!”

“Do you see anything else that interests you today?”

Pidge looked around the store.  “No, I don’t think we—Oh, my gosh!  You have Killbot Phantasm 10?  I didn’t even know there was a 5 through 9!  And look!  This one comes with 5 through 9 as an extra bonus!  How much is this?!”

The gray alien counted out on his fingers.  “That’ll be four thousand GAC.”

“Four thousand?!  Uh, will you take two thousand along with my sincerest thanks?”

“No.”

Lance gave the alien a charming smile and pulled out a small wallet.  “Relax, I’ve got this.  No more fishing for coins this time.”

He handed the alien the requested amount of money to pay for the video game.

“Pleasure doing business with you,” the alien smiled at them. “Feel free to stop by any time.”

As they left the store, Pidge clutched the video game to her chest.  “You didn’t have to do that.  You already paid for my dress.  We could’ve just come back later when I had the money.”

“But why do that when I have the money now?  Besides, you can’t think that you’re going to be playing that by yourself.  I’m going to be getting as much entertainment out of it as you are.”

“I think he overcharged you.”

“Probably, but I don’t think he gets a lot of customers. May as well let him have this.”

Pidge smiled to herself.  Lance had a pretty big ego and usually wasn’t afraid to let people know it, but that tiny act of kindness reminded her why she had fallen for him.

They continued walking through the mall and ended up at the same fountain they had gone searching for coins in the last time they’d been here.

Lance kicked off his shoes and jacket.

“What are you doing?” Pidge asked.

“I said we didn’t have to go fishing for coins again.  I didn’t say I couldn’t get in the fountain again.”

“But why would you want to?”

“Why not?”

That seemed to be Lance’s motto for life, and Pidge wondered how it hadn’t gotten him killed yet.

To the dismay of the aliens passing by the fountain, Lance ran up to it and splashed inside with a triumphant laugh.

Pidge rolled her eyes, hating how this kind of thing amused her.

“Come on!” Lance called as he ducked under one of the tiny waterfalls.  “The water is nice this time of year!”

Unable to resist, Pidge kicked off her shoes and set the video game down on top of their clothing.  Then she ran up to the fountain and jumped into the water.

As soon as she was standing in the fountain, feeling several new coins digging into her feet, Lance kicked a wave of water in her direction which drenched the entire bottom half of her new dress.

Pidge playfully glared at him and knelt down to splash him with both of her hands.  Lance ran around the fountain to come up behind her.  Then he put his arms around her waist, picked her up, and held her directly beneath one of the tiny waterfalls, effectively drenching all the places that had previously managed to stay dry.

Lance then gently dropped her, enough so that she didn’t hurt herself but she still fell over into the water.  Pidge kicked one of Lance’s legs out from under him and he fell down next to her with a large splash.  She laughed as she pushed his head under.

Lance came back up with small coughs and laughed even harder. “Hey, do you remember how I caught that one poor kid’s coin in my teeth?”

“I bet you couldn’t do that again,” Pidge smirked.

“Oh?  And what are we betting?”

“…A second date.”

Lance smirked back at her.  “It’s on.”

He hunched over and waited for a poor unsuspecting coin-thrower to approach the fountain.

Then he spotted one.  A small purple alien about the size of Pidge skipped up to the fountain and readied her coin in her four-fingered hand.  The second the alien flipped the coin, Lance leapt forward, burst through the tiny waterfall, and snatched the coin in between his teeth.

“Hey!” the young alien exclaimed.

Lance stood up on his feet again and flicked the coin back to her.  With a charming smile, he told her, “Sorry about that, I just needed to prove a point. Try again, I promise not to interfere this time.”

The female alien lightly blushed.  “Oh, that’s okay.”

Lance splashed back over to Pidge.  “And that is that.  So I believe that means a second date is on the table.”

Pidge couldn’t help smiling.  “I honestly didn’t think you were going to be able to repeat that.”

Lance swept his hand through his wet hair.  “I can’t believe you ever doubted me.”

“Can’t you?”

“Come on, let’s get back to the ship.”

Lance stepped out of the water fountain and held his hand out so he could help Pidge step out as well.  They retrieved the video game and their shoes but opted to continue walking around barefoot.  Instead of slipping his jacket back on, Lance lightly draped it over Pidge’s shoulders.

They were just about to step onto the escalator when they heard, “I thought I told you pirates not to come back here!”

Pidge and Lance frantically spun around to see Varkon on his tiny mall scooter.

“Run!” Lance yelled as he quickly snatched Pidge’s hand.

The two of them slid down the escalator railing and then booked it to the mall’s exit hallway, laughing the whole way.

Varkon stopped at the entrance to the hallway.  “And stay out this time!”

Lance turned around with a smirk.  “Never!”

“Why, you—!”

Whatever insult Varkon was about to come up with, which was surely going to be a terrible one, they never heard because they continued running down the hallway and didn’t stop running until they were back onboard the Blue Lion.

Lance quickly guided Blue back to the castle before Varkon decided to take any extra measures to ensure they didn’t come back to the mall (which they definitely were going to do).

Only moments later, they were back in the hangar in the castle.

“So how about we play some Killbot Phantasm 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, and 10?” Lance asked.

Pidge gave him a devilish smile, completely forgetting they were still soaking wet.  “I hope you know that victory is already mine.”

“I’ve already squashed your expectations once tonight. There is nothing stopping me from doing so again!”

“You’re on!”

The two of them quickly ran out of the Blue Lion and down to Lance’s room where the video game system was already hooked up.

It took about two minutes for them to become completely invested in the game.

“Hey, Lance?” Pidge said, her eyes still on the screen. It was going to be much easier to say this when they were mostly focused on something else.  “I had a good time tonight.”

“I did too,” Lance answered as he frantically pushed several buttons at once.

“I was…worried that us going on a date would…ruin things. I was even afraid we might not be able to form Voltron again if it went poorly.”

“Aw, Pidge, no matter how this turns out, I’ll never let our friendship be ruined to that extent.”

Pidge blushed.  “You know, for the record, I was going to go on a second date whether you caught that coin or not.”

This time, Lance blushed.  “Well, I think we can definitely agree on one thing.”

“What’s that?”

“Coran and Allura are not allowed to help on our dates anymore.”

 *******

Allura, Coran, and the rest of the Paladins found Pidge and Lance the next morning fast asleep in front of Lance’s TV.  With the video game’s main 8-bit theme continuing to play softly in the background, Pidge, still wearing his jacket, had curled up next to Lance and his arm loosely draped around her waist to hold her close to him.

“I think we should just leave them be for a little while longer,” Allura smiled.

[linkspooky]

Blood is Thicker

Jujutsu Kaisen Chapter 102 Shibuya Incident, Part 20 Analysis Jujutsu Kaisen is a manga that balances character development and thesmes with the fights. There are sometimes entire chapters built around one idea. Last week’s chapter was one such chapter as both fights that between Choso and Yuji, and Mei Mei and Getou centered around the theme of sibling relationships. 

Choso and Mei Mei are the literal definition of opposites. One male, one female. One is a curse human hybrid, the other a Jujutsu Sorcerer who exercises curses. One inherited a powerful curse technique from the Kamo Bloodline (blood manipulation) the other had to become strong through creative use of her traditionally weak curse technique. However, what makes them the most different is the way they approach their relationships with their siblings. 

Choso is genuinely saddened and vengeful over the death of his brothers, reacting to it the way any human might.While Mei Mei does the complete opposite, she tells her brother to die for her sake in the same chapter. Choso’s entire existence is dedicated to finding the rest of his brothers, and Mei Mei uses her brother as live bait to win against an enemy. There’s a lot we can learn from these two characters just from the way they treat their brothers. 

1. Choso the Human Curse

At the end of the Origin of Obedience Arc, Yuji and Nobara have a moral debate on whether they should feel any different about needing to kill the hybrids as opposed to exercising a curse. As despite the fact that they had to defend themselves and didn’t have much of a choice, they still killed something capable of crying for his brother who died in front of him the same way any human would. 

Curses are born from negative human emotions, but Choso and his brothers quite literally were born into this world with a mother the same way most humans were. Hanami was born out of a desire to save nature from human pollution. Mahito was born of the fear of other humans. However, during the origin of obedience arcs it’s not specified just what negative grudge gave rise to the curse spirits of the three brothers.

However there is important symbolism with them. One, they are represented by aborted fetuses (because that’s what they literally are) so symbolically they are children who were never given the chance to be born. Or even children who should never have been born. They were born into this world from a mother, and yet because they’re just the creation of some mad sorcerer’s whims they were never meant to exist. 

The only tangible thing the brothers have known for hundreds of years is each other. Which means the only motivation they really have is the connection they share with one another. 

Choso even says so outright. They don’t really believe the same thing that Jogo, Mahito and the rest of the curses believe that curses have the right to exist as the true humans, but a world where curses are in control without jujutsu sorcerers is a world where they’re allowed to exist. They don’t have to be sealed away as fetsuses whose only awareness is a psychic link with one another. 

So if you think about it that way, the goal of all three of the curse wombs is to be born. While their relationship mirrors that of human siblings, because all they’ve ever really had is contact with one another their relationship is closer than human siblings to ever are. They consider themselves three parts of the same body. Each member of the siblings would do anything for other two, because all of them are three equals, three parts of the same whole. They don’t even see each other as separate people, not really. 

These insane levels of devotion are why instead of retreating to live another day, both brothers fight until they die for the sake of completing the objective Choso gave them. They don’t really distinguish themselves as individuals so even if both of them died, and Choso lived on, then Choso would be living on for the both of them. 

 The irony of the three curse womb brothers is that despite them being freaks of nature, half human hybrid, they have the most human and relatable motivations of the curses so far. So much so it even gives Yuuji pause. Choso is trying to avenge his brothers, and then free the rest of his remaining six brothers from their seal so they can live. 

Choso’s entire character is designed around family ties and connection. The Kyoto student he foils and shares the exact same jujutsu technique and association with the Kamo clan with, also has a motivation that revolves around his attachment to his mothers. Choso manipualtes blood, blood ties are the symbol for family. 

Choso generally acts stoic and aloof compared to the other curses, and yet he’s also the curse to display the most raw human emotion so far. 

Choso is represented by ties, connections, restrictions and most of all the loyalty he feels towards his family. Choso is also the most powerful of the three and sees it as his job to protect / avenge them above all else. His duty is always towards his family. 

2. Mei Mei

Mei Mei is not a character we know a lot about yet, but there are two interesting facts established about her right from her introduction. If Choso is someone too connected to his own siblings, then Mei Mei lives disconnected from anyone around her. She even says herself she doesn’t understand any connections that aren’t based on money. 

The second hints at how ruthless she is. She seems to have noticed what was going on in Kyoto High School’s attempt to kill Yuji, but when confonted by Gojou she plays clueless and refuses to take either side. 

Mei Mei is then someone established to be always on her own side. That doesn’t mean she’s necessarily a bad person. Gojou himself is a character who has very selfish motivations, but he’s also an extremely moral person who always uses his tremendous strength for others rather than for himself. Her neutrality is in fact good in some ways, because she doesn’t seem to be alligned with the corrupt side of the Jujutsu world obsessed with family ties and tradition. The second thing to notice about Mei Mei is that she seems to value strength the same way that Gojou does. She doesn’t care about the Zenin family’s politics and only sees Maki for her strength. 

In Hidden Inventory, Gojou also identifies Mei Mei as someone strong who would never cry unlike Utahime. So, regardless of where Mei Mei’s loyalties lie she has a mindset very similiar to Gojou’s. She prioritizes herself and her own strength above everything else. However, she does get along with Utahime just fine, so it’s not like she’s incapable of making friends or caring about them as far as we’ve seen. 

Mei Mei is introduced in the Shibuya arc with her younger brother, Ui Ui. This is where her foiling becomes clear, Ui Ui says quite frnakly that Ui Ui doesn’t really love her family, that she cares more about work than anything else. The two of them are opposites, if Choso will always choose his brothers over everything else, then Mei Mei will always choose himself. 

Mei Mei’s fights later in the arc have been slowly revealing more about her character. That unlike Choso who was born with an incredibly strong and violent cursed technique, Mei Mei was born with one that you’d consider to be weak at first brush. 

Mei Mei’s Gojou-like fixation on strength most likely comes from having to survive in the world of Jujutsu Sorcery with a traditionally weak technique, especially since a lot of sorcerers value having a strong technique over everything else. 

Mei Mei also refers to herself as having almost given up after being crushed by her failure to improve herself after that, and is claims she herself had to go back and try something different in order to become a strong as she did today. 

At that point Mei Mei’s relationship with her brother becomes incredibly suspicious. Remember, Nanami said just a few chapters ago that it’s dangerous to drag children into combat. Ui Ui looks barely older than thirteen if that, and yet he’s acting like a miniature adult. Not only that but Ui Ui is completely obsessed with his sister. 

His entire sense of self worth is modeled around being useful to her. This is just speculation at this point entirely, but there’s a case for family members being used and abused in the Jujutsu World before this. Toji was going to sell his own son to the Zenin clan for money. Mechamaru’s parents kept their incredibly ill son in a tank and forced him to become a jujutsu sorcerer because his potential was so high. 

In the same chapter that Choso is mourning the deaths of his siblings, Mei Mei callously asks Ui Ui to die for her. She uses her own brother and his loyalty to her as the second half of her cursed technique, to use simple domains to cancel out domains. 

Once again this is just speculation but, considering Ui Ui’s unnatural devotion to his sister, the fact that he’s so young, and also the fact that Mei Mei once fell into despair over her inability to advance her own jujutsu technique could Mei Mei have purposefully raised her own younger brother as a weapon to be a part of her technique? Almost everything we’ve been shown so far indicates a really unhealthy and one sided relationship between the two siblings at least. 

It could be that Mei Mei is so convinced of her own strength that she doesn’t really see herself as putting her brother’s life at risk. Gojou pulls a similiar move in volume zero. He sends his students specifically into life threatening danger without supervision as a part of his plan. He didn’t necessarily intend any harm, he was just so confident in the fact that he was right he didn’t really see it as needlessly risking the live’s of children the same way Nanami would.

Nanami’s viewpoint that children shouldn’t be actively exposed to danger that’s out of their depth is being shown, more and more often to be a rarity in the jujutsu world. This is of course the same world that gave Yuji, Megumi and Nobara an incredibly dangerous mission just for the sake of killing Yuji not caring that there would be two other casualties. 

So even if Mei Mei doesn’t really specifically mean any harm to Ui Ui, she’s still being reckless with his life, in a way that contrasts how protective Choso and his brothers were of each other. In both cases the siblings are unnaturally close, but Choso considered him and the others all a part of the same person, all of them were equal, while Ui Ui seems to exist as an accessory to Mei Mei. 

That’s the contrast presented for us this chapter. An inhuman freak of nature curse spirit like Choso genuinely valued the life of his younger brothers in a really human way. While the human Jujutsu Sorcerer is cold and detached, using her younger brother as some kind of tool to benefit her. Choso who can’t get over the deaths of his two brothers, and Mei Mei who risks the life of her younger brother like it’s nothing to save herself. 

[blackscarabfilmz]

You Never Know What Someone Is Going Through by Michael Gleason

Another story based on a prompt, this time it was:

Write about a character who can suddenly see through another person's eyes — literally.

It's a well-known adage that “You never know what someone is going through”, usually used to encourage people to be kind to everyone. It's not a bad cliché, but it's not completely accurate either, as I can attest to. I'm not always the nicest person, and I admit that freely and openly, but I've taken strides to become nicer, although not for a totally altruistic reason.

You see, I've been afflicted with a strange curse, after a stressful interaction with an old woman whose slow walking was making it so that I missed out on getting the closest parking spot to my office that I'd seen in weeks, in which I used some choice words that I slightly regret.

“Get out of the way, you old crone! If you can't make it across the street, you should be in a home!” I'd shouted from behind the wheel of my BMW as I tried to swerve around her.

She just glared at me and seemed to mumble a few words, but I didn't stick around long enough to really notice, nor did I care. Afterward, I found that I'd gained the ability to literally see through another person's eyes.

I first noticed it right after arriving at the office that day, after getting a spot in a lot two blocks away, and I noticed that my secretary, Janice, was late for work – again. This was the fourth time that week and probably the fifteenth time this month, and I was pretty annoyed with her.

“If she wants that raise she asked for, she'd better start showing up to work on time. What else could be more important?” I thought to myself as I unlocked the door to my office.

Almost immediately, I was hit with the strangest sense of whiplash, because when I walked through the door, I wasn't in my familiar office, I was in somebody's bedroom.

“What the hell?” I turned around, but saw only a hallway behind me, and not Janice's desk.

The room looked fairly normal, and as I looked down at my hand for my briefcase, I instead saw something disturbing. It wasn't my hand! My hand was usually large and hairy, this was small and dainty, with painted nails.

“Nail polish? But...” I inspected the hand closely and realized I recognized the bright red color.

I rushed across the room, nearly tripping and falling as I also realized I was wearing heels, towards a vanity and looked into the mirror. Gazing at my reflection, my fears were realized and I was staring back at Janice's face. Thankfully, she was fully dressed and seemed to be getting ready for work. My eyes dropped slowly towards my, or rather Janice's chest, and I hesitantly reached a hand towards her blouse.

But I was taken out of my shock as I heard a baby's scream and the bedroom door suddenly flew open, revealing a haggard-looking man with a disheveled beard carrying a screaming child, who couldn't have been more than two. That was right! Janice had been pregnant when we hired her, and she'd had the baby not too long afterward. She came back to work pretty quickly after her maternity leave so I never really thought about her home life after that, her performance in the office was all that matters to me.

Janice's husband definitely didn't look like he was getting ready for work, so that explained why she was bucking for that raise. I made enough money for my wife to be a stay-at-home mom by choice, but my kids are almost fully grown, a daughter in college and a son in high school, so my wife's day can't be nearly as stressful as Janice's husband's.

“He's crying again! What am I supposed to do to get him to calm down, again?” Janice's husband asked as he held the baby out to me.

“I... Uh,” I stuttered, I didn't know the first thing about calming down a baby, that was my wife's department, I hesitated to reach for it. Not to mention hearing Janice's voice coming out of my mouth was off-putting, to say the least.

Suddenly, a dog rushed into the room, one of those small yappy ones, and started barking. The noises were incessant, the baby's crying, Janice's husband's whining, and the dog barking, it was driving me crazy. I clutched my hair with both hands, closed my eyes, and took a deep breath, before shouting from the top of my lungs:

“PLEASE, EVERYONE JUST SHUT THE HELL UP!” I shouted, in my own voice, and noticed that everything went silent.

I opened my eyes to see my office in front of me, and murmurs started up from the other members of the office staff behind me. I quickly rushed into my office and shut the door behind me, slumping down in my chair as I tried to rationalize what had just happened to me. I felt so real, but it had to have been a hallucination, right?

I quickly sat down at my desk and tried to clear my head, but my mind kept playing back what I'd experienced. I started working on what I'd needed to get done that day, looking over expense reports, and before long, I heard a gentle knock on my door.

“Come in!” I shouted, looking up to see Janice sheepishly walking into my office. “Glad to see you've decided to grace us with your presence.”

I noticed that she was wearing the exact outfit that I'd seen in the hallucination, but that had to be a coincidence, right? She'd probably worn that exact outfit dozens of times, and that's why my subconscious chose it. I think that's how dreams work, anyway.

“I'm sorry, sir. I really tried to get here on time, but my husband was having trouble with the baby, he was being very fussy today, and things have been really tough juggling that, especially with me working,” Janice explained.

I remained stone-faced, but that was more because her explanation directly mirrored the experience I'd had. But she took my silence as a challenge, to her, I was silent because I was dissatisfied with her punctuality.

“I know that it isn't any of your concern, but if I got that raise I asked for, I could afford to hire a nanny and that would take some of the burdens of childcare off of my husband and me, and I would be able to focus all my attention on my work here.” Janice declared. “It's not greed, and I really do love my job, but I can't be everywhere at once, and it seems like the universe needs me to be.”

After what I'd seen, I believed her, but I couldn't buckle to it immediately. I had a reputation to uphold, besides, a change of heart that drastic might cause people to question things and I don't want anyone to know I'd been in Janice's head.

“I'll consider it,” I said, flatly. “Now, get to work.”

“Yes, sir.” Janice turned on her heel in a way that shocked me, given I'd nearly killed myself simply walking in them, and walked out of my office, closing the door on her way out.

The rest of the morning passed without incident, and I thought that the entire experience was a one-time thing. By lunch, I'd figured out that it was probably tied into that old woman in the crosswalk, but assumed that I'd learned my lesson with Janice, and everything would be normal from then on out. And then later that afternoon, my phone rang, a call from my wife, Diane.

“Hey, honey! What's up?” I asked. “Is something wrong?”

“You bet there's something wrong, Clark! I got Nathan's report card in the mail today!” Diane replied.

“Oh, Christ...” I muttered. “How bad is it this time?”

“Nothing above a C- and most of it is D's and there's an F this time.”

I took a deep sigh and put my face in my hands.

“We are going to have a very long discussion about this when I get home. Is he home yet?”

“Not yet, he's at after-school tutoring, for all the good it's done...” Diane said.

“Make sure he knows he's grounded and won't be playing video games or watching T.V. until we figure out what to do about this,” I grumbled.

“Got it. See you when you get home,” Diane said. “Love you.”

“Love you too,” I said, ending the call. “What the hell am I going to do with that boy? Can't he just apply himself?”

As I turned my attention back to my desk, I again found myself in another location entirely. Although this time I recognized the room, I'd been in there enough times for parent-teacher conferences to know that this was Nathan's math classroom. I looked down at the desk and could vaguely make out a reflection, one that I recognized as my son's face.

“Not again...” I whined, in Nathan's voice.

“What was that, Mr. Wilson?” I looked up to see Nathan's math teacher, Mrs. Snodgrass, standing over me.

She was an austere woman, a very old and traditional teacher, reminded me of some of the teachers I'd hated when I was in school, but as a parent, I liked her style. It kept the kids in line. Of course, I liked that personality a lot less more when it was directed at me.

“Nothing, ma'am.” I looked back down at the desk and spotted a math worksheet sitting on it, half-filled in.

“Have you finished the assignment yet?” she asked.

“Not yet, I'm working on it.” I picked up a pencil and started to work on the problem.

Math was my best subject back in school, but the way they were teaching it now was... strange. I didn't understand what it wanted me to do! I did my best and finished the sheet, handing it to Mrs. Snodgrass. I was alone in the room, save for her, which made sense given that tutoring is usually only for those who are truly struggling.

I stood near the desk, waiting as she looked over the sheet. My face fell when she signed and rubbed her forehead with her wrinkled hand.

“Mr. Wilson, did you pay attention at all to today's lesson?” she asked.

“Well, I...” I started to reply. I didn't actually know if Nathan paid attention.

“I don't know what else I can do. I think we're kidding ourselves with the tutoring, it's clearly not doing anything, and I've exhausted all my methods. I'll discuss that with your parents at the next conference, but as for now, you may go.” Mrs. Snodgrass said.

She was giving up on my son like that? If he's not understanding the material, the teacher should be making damn sure she tries everything! Usually, I had the confidence and bravado to stand up to teachers like this, but in Nathan's body, my confidence evaporated, so all I managed to squeak out was a thank you, and I quickly collected his bag and headed home.

Already this experience had lasted longer than my time in Janice's body, and I was eagerly awaiting it to end. I figured it might end when I got to the front door, but it didn't. I walked into the house and found Diane standing, arms crossed, in the foyer. I knew why she was angry, and I averted my gaze.

“Your report card came in the mail today,” Diane said. “Do you have anything to say for yourself?”

“I know it looks bad, but...” I started. I wanted to tell her what I'd witnessed from the teacher, but she wouldn't let me speak.

“Wait for your father, he's on his way home now.” she pointed towards the living room.

I took Nathan's backpack off and sat on the couch, waiting for a few minutes until I heard my car pull into the driveway. I sat up, partly wondering if perhaps Nathan was in my body since I was occupying his, but one look at my face as I walked through the door, and I knew that it wasn't the case.

It's strange to see yourself from the outside, I don't think of myself as threatening, but clearly, Nathan did. His heart began racing as I took off my suit jacket and hung it up by the door. The other me, the me in my own body... “Clark”, he walked into the living room after greeting Diane and taking the report card. “Clark” sat down in my favorite chair, and Diane took her customary flank position next to me.

“What the hell are we going to do with you? Do you enjoy failing?” “Clark" asked. “I mean, look at this! Do you think you can get into a good college with grades like these?”

I couldn't believe it, would I really say something like that? Have I lost sight of empathizing with my son? Diane just stood by “Clark” and nodded along with what he said.

“The lessons are really hard, especially math!” I defended Nathan.

“If the lessons are hard, you've got to buckle down and study your butt off! I struggled in school too, you know what I did? I worked hard to not struggle! This is important, it's your future! Why can't you be more like your sister? She never had less than a B!” “Clark” shouted.

I was utterly speechless, not just because “Clark” wouldn't let me get a word in edgewise, but also because I could feel just how powerless Nathan felt, with his father, the person who's supposed to be on his side, chewing him out mercilessly. If this really was how I'd been treating him about his grades... that had to change.

“And don't even think you'll be seeing the outside of your room or a classroom until your grades improve. Now go to your room and hit the books!” “Clark” finished.

I felt tears welling up in my eyes and I stood up and ran towards Nathan's room. As I slammed the door, I felt myself crash back down to Earth as I rocked slightly in my chair. Diane put her hand on my shoulder.

“Are you okay, Clark?” she asked, concern in her voice.

“Yeah, I'm fine...” I replied.

“Are you sure you weren't too hard on him? I know his grades are bad, but...” Diane started.

“Yeah, I was a little too hard on him...” I sighed. “I'll handle it.”

I stood up and walked up the stairs, waiting outside Nathan's room. After a few minutes, I knocked on the door.

“Go away!” Nathan shouted.

“Nathan, I've... had some time to think, and I'm sorry. I just... I want you to succeed, but if you're struggling, I need to take the time to help you figure out the problem, not yell at you until it goes away.” I heard the door unlock.

I reached forward and opened the door, Nathan was sitting on his bed, wiping tears from his face.

“I guess I'm just stupid...” Nathan muttered.

“You're not stupid, we just have to figure out how you learn the best. If this tutoring isn't working, maybe we try something different. Say, I was pretty good at math when I was your age, maybe after dinner, I can look over your homework with you. You'll just have to teach me whatever this “new” math they're teaching you is,” I chuckled, and Nathan laughed as well.

“I'd like that, Dad.” Nathan said.

It was a strange experience to be sure, but it taught me something, that I had to be more empathetic and kinder to those around me, particularly when it comes to things outside of their control.

In the weeks following, I've made a lot of strides into being more understanding. With Janice, my other employees, my kids, and even my wife. Seeing things through her eyes is an experience that I've gone to a lot of trouble to avoid. But the curse hasn't gone away, either, because sometimes I'll find myself running out of patience with a cashier or a barista and suddenly I'm seeing things from their perspective. I guess the moral of this story is, “Be kind. Because you never know what someone is going through”.

And trust me, you really don't want to find out.

[thejollyroger-writer]

THE WASTELAND - Chapter Four: THE ATHENAEUM // THE CABIN, Part 2

Some triggers: this story is rated TEEN, mostly for violence. It takes place during wartime, and some of the characters go through some violence and torture. If you need more information about this, please just message me!

SUMMARY:  In a world that has been saturated in war for as long as anyone can remember, Emma Swan has rebuilt her life as far away from the chaos as possible, opening her own maternity hospital after spending too many years in makeshift battlefield aid stations. But one night, a bloodied and battered soldier finds her hospital trying to get away from an enemy with a penchant for torture and a personal vendetta against him. With the help of Emma’s childhood friend Prince David and a motley collection of humans and magic-wielders, the quest to save Killian Jones’ life from the poison used by the enemy takes them to places even beyond the known world.

a/n: Now we’re getting into some really deep worldbuilding shit, and even deeper magic. This chapter took me so long to perfect, continually questioning the viability of the magic and magic-teaching and the Atheneaum as a whole... hopefully it makes sense to everyone else! 

Header and the art for every chapter by the lovely @spartanguard – special thanks to @cssns for making this monster happen!

Prologue on AO3 // Prologue on Tumblr // Chapter One (ART) // Chapter Two (ART) // Chapter Three (ART)

Chapter Four on AO3

ART

– – –

“I’m so proud of you, brother,” Killian says, clapping his hand on Liam’s shoulder as he fixes his collar in the mirror of their shared barracks. 

Liam meets his eyes in the mirror, flashing a large smile before reaching around to wrap his arm around Killian’s shoulders. 

“Thank you, Killy.” 

If anyone else ever even tried to call him ‘Killy,’ he would probably throttle them, but no one has ever tried. Only Liam has ever come up with a nickname for him, and though he knows the tips of his ears turn red on the rare occasion Liam calls him ‘Killy’ in public, he would always take ‘little brother’ over that any day.

It wasn’t a lie, though: Killian is proud of his brother. Very proud. Today is his promotion — both of their promotions, actually, though Liam’s is a much bigger deal than his own. 

The youngest admiral the Nephilysis military has ever seen. The only dryad to even become a high-ranking officer in the navy. Gold’s son, Baelfire, even called him the ‘most skilled fae’ he has ever seen. All because he has honed his abilities in a way no one ever expected, combining his air manipulation abilities with his love for the ocean and working with an Elder and a Fae to create a whole new system for travelling: the airship. 

So today is more than a promotion for the elder Jones brother; it is also the day Liam gets a ship of his own, the perfect and pristine Jewel of the Realm, whose flying technologies include the best of everything Killian and Liam, with the help of Merlin and the rest of Gold's elders, have created over the last eight years working for Gold. 

The ceremony, though filled with age-old traditions, does not take nearly as long as Killian anticipated, even with both of them receiving promotions: Liam to Admiral of the Jewel of the Realm and a small fleet of ships equipped for air travel and Killian as Captain, serving directly under his brother for the time being. 

The ceremony does not take long, but the meeting that he and Liam have directly afterwards, where they are getting their first assignments in their new positions, is proving to be the opposite. 

Killian had assumed that the only business of the meeting would be giving them their assignments, and he had been dead wrong. Instead of only them, he and Liam found themselves meeting with Gold’s entire war council, which included the Elders for each Nephilim faction, other admirals and generals from all across the Wasteland — not to mention the Prince and his band of Elders and guards, much younger and less traditional than Gold’s men. It’s a stark contrast in the room, really, between the Elders who follow Gold and those who follow his son, between those in traditional Nephilysis uniforms and those in jeans and sweatshirts. Killian would never dare to show up to a meeting with Gold the Elder, the King of Nephilysis, the man that he serves under, wearing jeans. Hell, he would be embarrassed to even be seen by the King of Nephilysis wearing jeans — but he supposes that Baelfire and his collection of followers lead a very different, and much more privileged, life than he does. 

Finally, after what feels like hours — though, according to Killian’s wristwatch proves to only be an hour and a half — Gold turns his attention to the Jones brothers for the first time. 

“Now, as for the newest members of this council,” he says, his voice odd in a way Killian struggles to describe, though slimy comes to mind. He smiles, though there is not a happy thing about it, more sinister than anything else. “Many of you should already know about Admiral Jones’ work with his airships, so now it’s time to give him and his small fleet of Captains their first destination. I’m very pleased that we are now able to go to far-off places thanks to the hard word of Admiral Jones, and so it is an honor to finally announce that he will be leading an expedition to somewhere my advisors and I have had our sights set on for a while now.” 

He says nothing beyond this, waiting for every eye in the room to be on him. The last to look up, Killian notices, is Prince Baelfire, who rolls his eyes when he realizes what his father is doing, but looks up at him nonetheless. Finally, Gold turns back to Killian and Liam, that same sinister smile on his face again. 

“Neverland!’ he says with a laugh even more sinister that chills Killian to the bone. 

There is just something about him that Killian strongly dislikes but he can’t figure out what. He realizes, perhaps a moment too late, that he may have let his disgust with him show on his face, and tries to wipe off all expression --and then realizes exactly what Gold just said to them. 

When he turns to Liam, his brother looks just as confused as he feels. “How is it I’ve studied maps of the world practically my whole life and yet I’ve never heard of this place, this Neverland?” 

Gold’s slimy smile grows, somehow. It takes all of Killian’s energy not to cringe, though he’s useless against the confusion he feels when the Prince answers Liam’s question instead of the King. “Well, because Neverland isn’t on any map, it’s not somewhere you can navigate to.” 

It’s time for Killian to voice his concern, turning to the Prince. “Then how are we supposed to get there?” 

But Gold himself answers instead. “There’s only one man who has ever made it to the island and returned, so he is going to join you.” He gestures towards the door just as a young man — much younger than even the youngest recruits, Killian notices — pushes through the door, as if on cue. Out of anyone in the room, his eyes meet Killian’s, a smile just as sinister, if not more, than the King’s, spread across his face. “Admiral, Captain, this is Peter Pan.” 

 Liam slams the door to their barracks behind him, the anger that he’s been trying to keep off his face suddenly obvious. 

“He can’t be serious, can he?” he practically yells, furiously pacing between the close walls of their cabin. “That Pan, he’s — he’s just a boy. He speaks so highly of himself, as if he has more knowledge than anyone else in the room.” 

“I hate to say it, brother, but I do believe there is more to that boy than meets the eye,” Killian responds, sitting down on one of the chairs in their common area. 

Liam whips around. “What does that mean?” 

“I don’t — he could be…” He shakes his head, then rests it in his hands. “One of the books I read recently spoke of these… these beings who don’t age, who are from all of these weird lands, and I thought it was fantasy, just a myth, but then I saw this—this boy, and I got this… I don’t know, this feeling that he was one of them.” 

“Killy, that’s insane.”

“I thought it was insane, too, but now I’m not too sure.” 

Liam pushes his fingers through his hair, huffing, but sits down next to him anyway. “What else did your book say about them?” he asks finally, the words coming out slowly. 

“Dark magic, Liam. They’re creatures of pure black magic.” 

Liam shakes his head. “King Gold does a lot of things, brother, but I cannot believe that he would go to that extreme.” 

“That’s not all. Not only are they dark magic, but the places they come from are the same, are home to the darkest magics of the world, items and poisons and weapons. This Neverland, I’ve never heard of it, but I can only imagine that it’s one of these places.” 

He is still shaking his head. “No. No, I refuse to believe it. King Gold is— he’s corrupt, yes, but dark magic? That’s insane, Killian.” 

“I’m just telling you what I read.” 

Liam stands up again, continuing with his pacing where he left off. “Dark magic,” he whispers, scrubbing his face with his hand, then he starts to unbutton the jacket of his dress uniform. “You don’t think King Gold would send us on a mission to collect dark magic, do you?” 

Killian does, a fear that he feels seeping into the deepest parts of him — but he just shakes his head. He may think Gold is evil enough to send them to a land of dark magic, but to say it out loud, even to his brother, would be treason. Bad form. 

 The gates to the Athenaeum loom above them, shining in the golden sunlight of the dawn. It took them a whole day’s drive to get there, opting to go around the bulk of the city instead of through it, hoping to keep as much attention off of them as they can, even if it meant adding another four hours in the car. 

Regina has never much cared for the second entrance to the Athenaeum, never afraid to travel through the city because of her immunity, both an atheneid and an Elder on the Gale Council. But she understands how careful Emma and Mary Margaret want to be, being so close to the Prince himself. 

With a huff, Regina checks her watch. It’s been almost a minute since she knocked on the door, and there has still been no sign of movement on the other side of the gate. Finally, one of the gates swings open, revealing a dark-skinned Naphilm soldier in a dress uniform — something Regina hasn’t seen for years, since she was a young woman studying to become an elder and an atheneid. Something she never thought she was going to see again once she left Nephilysis behind. 

"State your business." His voice is sinister, angry, but he is unable to deny them access once Regina shows him her credentials as an atheneid, which allows her access to the Athenaeum and no questions asked about her allegiance. He doesn’t let them any further than inside the gates, though, barring them from walking any closer to the building. 

Even still, Regina rolls her eyes when he stands in the middle of the path, keeping them from going any further. "We're here for a meeting with Magistra French, she's expecting us." 

He doesn’t budge. "You're going to have to wait here for her to come get you." 

Both Emma and Mary Margaret take a terrified look around, noticing all of the Nephilim in uniform around the building, both as guards and simply sitting in the gardens in the gated area around the Athenaeum, more than either of them have seen in a single place. 

Regina stands her ground, conjuring a fire ball in her right hand without breaking eye contact with the guard. "Both you and I know that's not the protocol." Her voice is hard, confident, one she has had more than enough practice with as a member of King George’s council. 

"Gold has changed the protocol," the guard growls. He tries to make himself taller, tries to tower over Regina, but he is still a few inches shorter than her in her heels.  

Her fireball grows bigger., her eyes wider "He doesn't have the power to do that, not here." 

"Tell him that yourself and see how willing to listen to you he is." 

A flash of fear crosses her face, and the guard laughs, only to be stopped by the doors behind him opening to reveal the Magistra herself. She, unlike the guards, is dressed much more casually, in a pair of black jeans and a yellow button-down top. After narrowing her eyes towards the guard, who has now stepped to the side, she smiles at the three ladies, her eyes landing last on Emma, holding there for a moment before returning to Regina. 

"Please, Regina, come in." 

She has a thick accent, different than Emma has heard, though she assumes it’s from the southern parts of Nephilysis, perhaps even the islands off the coast, knowing the accents get stronger the further from the Wasteland. 

“Thank you for travelling all the way out here, ladies,” she says, leading them through the entryway to the building and through the stacks. “And on such short notice.” 

“Thank you for seeing us,” Mary Margaret says, voicing the words that Emma is somehow unable to vocalize. 

Instead, she is focused on the sights around her, the wooden stacks of books that stretch to the high ceilings. Emma has been to some of the smaller universities around the Gale, traveling with Johanna while honing her medical and magical abilities, or with David after she formally became personal aide to the prince, but none of them are anything like this, even the biggest ones in the Gale. 

Emma has always wondered — silently, never voicing her questions — why this is the place that every Elder must come to study the arts under the Magistra, thanks to an order by one of the previous King Gold’s (Emma can’t remember which one, never needing to memorize it for academia.) 

But she understands it now, following the Magistra and Regina through the building with Mary Margaret taking the rear. There are rows and rows of books in every direction, seemingly endless in the monstrous building. Every once in a while, the repetitive rows are dotted with a collection of tables; broken by a staircase, leading to another floor; or a small study room surrounded by glass walls, some of them covered in writing from the people inside. 

Belle leads them up one of these sets of steps and down a small hallway, placing her hand against a biolock not unlike the ones Emma uses in the hospital to open one of the identical doors. Emma notices the large, intricate “M” carved into the dark wooden door as she walks through it, and her suspicions are confirmed when she finds herself in a large office, the walls lined with bookshelves only broken by a window that overlooks a small courtyard. The books, she notices, are some of the oldest she has ever seen, and meticulously organized in some sort of fashion that puts the dusty, cracked ones with pages visibly falling out near the edges of the bookshelf, allowing the bulk of the entire middle to be lined with matching sets and collections of different-colored leather-bound volumes. Many of them do not have words printed on their spines, some of them only letters, if anything at all. 

Belle sits down behind the desk, folding her perfectly-manicured fingers in front of her. She allows herself to look at each of them for a few seconds, once again ending with Emma, but this time she does not look away. 

"Your phone call sounded urgent, please tell me what I can do to help." 

Even though the call did not come from Emma, the question is obviously directed at her, but when Emma fails to voice any response, Regina speaks up. "Emma, this is your story, I think it's only fair." 

She takes a small breath, gulps, then clears her throat. For some reason, just the thought of relaying the story to someone as important as an Atheneid — as the Magistra herself — brings a new sense of realness to their situation. 

And with that comes a new sense of fear. 

From the first time she felt the way the wound on Killian's chest reacted to her magic, she found herself afraid to share it with anyone, sure that it was some sort of secret that she would never be able to discover the meaning behind. (Sure that Killian wouldn't be alive long enough to allow it, really.) And when she learned that it was her magic that did it, and not just light magic responding to the darkness and the poison in the wound, she was even more sure that this was not something to take lightly. 

So needing to recall the whole story to the most important fae in the world at the hunch of Regina made her a little uneasy. 

But she does it anyway, every eye in the room on her as she tells a shortened version: finding Killian in her office, her ability to heal his wounds save the ones seeping with dark magic, and describing as best she can what happens when she tries to use her magic on them, since this is the detail that made Regina so sure they had to come here. 

At this, Belle's eyes go wide, and she jumps out of her seat and starts to search the wall behind her for something. 

Emma is too stunned by her response to say even another word, though she did come to the end of her tale, save the very little information Regina gave them in the cabin before they left. Sensing either her shock or the fact that her recollection has come to its end, Regina takes over. "I remembered what you showed me once in one of the obscure healing books that you insisted I memorized, something I haven't thought about in years, and when I gave him a vial of SOMETHING she was able to extract the Dreamshade from his wound for just a moment." 

Belle turns around from the shelf, bright eyes wide with both excitement and awe. "So you're thinking she's—" 

Regina doesn't let her finish. "Yes, I'm almost sure of it, but I knew I had to bring her here to know for sure." 

“Has she tried it with other poisons?” 

Both Regina and Belle turn to her, waiting for an answer. “I’ve never dealt with other poisons. Only Dreamshade once before, and I never tried to do anything to it with my magic.”

Belle nods. “And what about this man? The one you healed? Are you also thinking that he's—" 

"The one from the—"

"Yes."

"I'm almost sure of it." 

“What about him?” Emma asks, having enough of their half-conversation. 

“Did you try any other magic on him? Any other strange reactions?” 

“What do you mean, strange reactions?” 

Belle's response comes in a rush, more words than Emma is able to focus on as she thinks back to try to answer the questions: “How about when you tried to heal him, did anything else out of the ordinary happen? Any… energies that seemed off? Weird feelings from either of you, but especially you? Did anything work better than you expected, or seem to happen instantly when you know it’s taken more time in the past?” 

The breath leaves Emma's lungs. She really wishes things would stop taking her breath away.  Belle must sense something, must know that this has riled Emma's memory, and she watches her in anticipation across the desk. 

"Well, yes," she says finally, once again able to regulate her breath. "Many of his wounds were less severe, just cuts and gashes on his chest, and many of them not only healed in response to my magic, but disappeared entirely. Not even a scar." 

Belle's eyes go wide, even wider than they already were, and she turns back down to the book spread across the desk in front of her.

Silence overtakes the room, and Emma tries to decipher some of the writing that Belle is looking so intently at, only to find it written in a language that does not look familiar to her at all. 

"Can somebody please tell me what's going on?" she asks, trying to keep her voice calm, but her heart is pounding wildly in her chest — another side effect from the events of the last two weeks that she wishes would just disappear. 

Belle shuts the volume in front of her, folding her hands on top of it. With her head hung, she takes a breath, obvious in the rise and fall of her shoulders, before looking back at Emma. 

"There's a prophecy," she says. 

Emma scoffs, stopping her mid-sentence. "You're kidding, right?" 

Belle shakes her head, but decides to tackle the subject from a different angle. "What do you know about your lineage?" 

Emma scoffs again, this time rolling her eyes. "No, really, you've got to be kidding." 

"I can assure you, this is no joke to me." 

There's something in her voice, a hardness and a seriousness (and perhaps a dash of magic) that makes Emma suddenly very sure that the Magistra is telling the truth. "I'm — I'm an orphan. I know nothing of my parents, or of any part of my lineage. I was left on the steps of a university outside of the Gale when I was a few days old, raised by the Elders there for a while until I took to the streets." 

Even after making Emma spill that, Belle says nothing for a moment, though her eyes search Emma's face for… something. Emma isn't sure what, and is even less sure whether she finds it or not. 

"And they were the ones who helped you hone your abilities?" 

Emma shakes her head again. "I'd left the university by the time my abilities started showing themselves, and it wasn't until David — until the Prince helped me find an apprenticeship with the palace healer that I started to focus on medicine." 

"And you've never attempted any art other than the one that showed itself then? Terren, or dryad?" 

The question catches Emma off guard. From everything she's heard about the Elders, and about the Magistra in particular, they are supposed to be able to sense these things about a person without having to ask. 

"Well, actually, I've — I've never really been sure. Plants, sure, and I've never much tried with the wind or whatever, but I once saved David by using a large boulder to protect us, and I've calmed some waters, but I've mostly just harnessed my own energy for healing purposes." 

"Plants, earth, water," Belle mumbles, turning her chair around to face the bookshelf once again, this time finding one of the more used volumes, with a cracked spine and unattached pages in every direction. She places it on top of the other on her desk, but does not open it. "Plants, earth, water… energy." With the last word, she meets Emma's eyes once more, her whole face seeming to light up. "Regina, I'm assuming you've come to the same conclusion I have?" she asks, not even looking over at Regina. 

But Emma does, and the wide smile spread across her face just makes Emma more curious. 

In the silence, Mary Margaret gasps, bringing a hand to her mouth. "Of course," she breathes. 

“What?” Emma says, at the end of her patience. “What conclusion have all of you come to that I somehow still can’t see?” 

“See,” Mary Margaret says, completely ignoring Emma’s question. “Emma didn’t have… formal education, really, so she was never fully introduced to all of the factions, and probably never really heard about all of it, so it makes sense that she never—” 

“I am right here,” Emma practically yells, stopping Mary Margaret’s words in their tracks. “Now, what the hell are you talking about?” 

“A Vis,” Belle says. “Emma, I think you have the Gift. I think you’re a Vis.” 

A Vis. She’s — she’s heard of them, sure, maybe read about them once or twice, but… 

A Vis. The rarest of all magic-wielders, with the ability to create their own energy instead of just using those around them. 

“As rare as Vis are, it’s pretty common for some of those with the Gift to simply go through their lives thinking they are just a simple fae.” 

Emma has so many questions. How, mostly. How has she gone her whole life without knowing this? 30 years, almost half of that time as a fae. 

As a Vis. 

She doesn't have enough time to process this. When Regina said they had to come to the Athenaeum, the last thing she expected was something like this. She assumed it was to find a way to save Killian. 

Killian.

"What does this have to do with Killian?" she asks, the first words spoken for almost a minute.  

Both Belle and Regina turn to her, wide-eyed, not understanding the question.

Mary Margaret does. "Yeah, you said he had something to do with this, right?" 

"Oh," Belle says, closing the book in front of her again. "No, that's not related to the Vis thing. If you're… well, if you're the Savior that the prophecy foretold, then there's reason to believe he's your True Love." 

"You can't be serious." 

"Athenaeid do not joke about prophecies, Emma," Regina scoffs, crossing her arms over her chest. 

"But true love? Is that — you can't mean —" 

Mary Margaret cuts in, stopping her sputtering. "Does that mean we can save him?" 

Belle opens one of the books in front of her again, silent for a few moments before shaking her head. "I really can't say for sure. True Love is a fickle thing, and Dreamshade even more so." 

"And True Love is the most powerful magic there is," Regina adds, a brightness in her eyes that Emma has never seen before. 

(She's not too fond of it, either.) 

"What the hell does this even mean? That I can—what—true love's kiss the poison away?" 

Belle and Regina share a silent glance. Belle wets her lips. Regina raises her eyebrows. 

"Well," the Magistra mumbles. "Yes, there's a chance of that." 

A loud, gasping laugh escapes her chest, one she just couldn't keep down. "This is crazy. Absolutely insane." 

"There's a chance it's much more complicated than that, too, though," Belle says quickly, trying to save Emma from spiraling too far. "In fact, it's much more likely to be more complicated. Something more along the lines of your being the only person who can save him." 

It works. This is much easier for her to wrap her mind around, unlike the rest of the information Belle and Regina have sprung on her in just the last half-hour. This, at least, makes sense. More sense than her being one of the most powerful types of fae, or the fact that there's a prophecy. This, at least, she can deal with. 

"So now, she needs to be trained, right?" Regina asks, and Emma feels her heart beat in her throat. 

How long could that take?, she doesn't have the ability to ask. There's a time crunch, she has to save Killian, she can't— 

"Well, if she wants to save this man from Dreamshade, she certainly doesn't have time to stick around here long enough to master anything," Belle says, once again saving Emma from the spiral she was threatening to get lost in. "Honestly, you should get back to the rest of your group and make way towards Neverland as soon as possible, in my opinion." 

"What?" Emma blurts out, even though she agrees with everything the Magistra just said. "You're just going to drop this information on me and… send me away?" 

Belle shakes her head. "Of course not," she says cheerily. "I have to come with you." 

Killian’s heart is in his throat as David knocks on the door to the cabin. He thought he was going to be okay, back here where Smee was killed and he was kidnapped, but he’s thinking the worst: that no one will open the door. That all of his friends, practically everyone he has left, are gone, taken by the same for that he barely escaped from. For what feels like forever (but in reality can’t be more than a few seconds) no one answers the door. 

And then there’s a thud on the inside, followed by the muffled “Bloody hell” that can only belong to Will Scarlett. Killian and David exchange a smile, an almost-literal weight lifted from Killian's shoulders, and the door opens. 

At first, Will can’t believe his eyes, which are practically bugging out of his head (Killian’s pretty sure it’s the longest he’s ever seen Will not speak). He doesn't blame him, though, because he can only imagine the conclusions they drew about Killian when they returned that day to find him missing, with Phillip dead on the floor of the kitchen. 

It's the first he's thought of this, really, since he has been spending so much time trying not to hype himself up with the thought of them surviving an attack from Pan and Baelfire, but now that he knows they did, he wonders. What did they think when they returned back that day? They all knew his history, knew that he spent the first years as a soldier working for Gold. Did they think him a traitor to his newest allegiance, think that he returned to the Nephilysis army that betrayed him all those years before? 

He hopes not. The only thing he has ever wanted to be is a man of honor, and he hopes that the men he has spent the better part of the last ten years with understand that. 

Killian is pulled from the worst-case scenario in his mind when, instead of saying anything, Will practically jumps through the door and wraps his arms around David, who, after a moment, hugs him back. 

Killian smiles. Even if they believed the worst of him in the weeks he's been away, returning at the Prince's side is a sure sign his allegiance has not shifted. 

"Holy shit," Will whispers, shifting his hug from David to Killian, then he says it again. “I saw someone coming up towards the cabin on the radar but I never expected—” 

From behind him, Robin emerges from the kitchen, dish towel slung over his shoulder. "Will, who was at the—" And then he meets Killian's eyes over Will's shoulder, then David's. "Holy shit." 

"That seems to be everyone's response here," David says, rushing through the doorway to embrace his oldest friend. 

"Why didn't you say you were coming? You could have contacted one of us?" 

"Honestly, mate," Killian says, taking his turn in giving Robin a hug. "We weren't sure if any of you would even be here, since I was kidnapped by Baelfire from here. If it was still safe, or if any of you were still alive." 

"Who else is here?" David asks, closing the front door as he finds a way to ask the question that Killian was too afraid to: was anyone else killed when they came for me? 

"Graham was out back somewhere, but I imagine he should be in any—" 

Robin's words are cut off by the man in question coming through the back door and calling out: "Is someone here? I got a notification that someone drove through the sensor in the driveway and I—" He comes around the corner, holding his phone out in front of him, but when he sees Killian and David standing inside the door, his words stop. For a moment, the entire cabin is shrouded in silence, waiting for someone to break it. 

“What are you doing here?” Robin asks, and David wraps his arm around his shoulder. 

“I think we should all sit down,” David breathes. “This might take a while.” 

 “So, what, we just have to find this Merlin guy?” Will asks, his mouth still full from the last bite of his sandwich. 

“Christ, Scarlett, don’t you listen?” Robin scoffs. “Finding Merlin is the first step.”

“And the easiest,” David mumbles. 

Killian leans forward on his elbows, momentarily forgetting about the worst of his injuries, though he is painfully reminded almost immediately. “Once we find Merlin, hoping he still has my brother’s ship hidden away somewhere, then we have to fly to Neverland.” 

“And what if — pardon me for asking, but what if he doesn’t have your brother’s ship?” Graham asks, always the most level-headed of them all. 

All eyes turn to Killian, who turns his gaze down to the table. 

But David speaks up with an answer: “Then we just have to find another way to get to Neverland.” 

The room is silent for a minute, until: 

“I thought you said this ship is the only way to get to Neverland?” Will asks, once again missing the feeling in the rest of the room. 

Killian nods. “Yeah, that’s what I said.” 

Another beat passes, all attention on Will, waiting for him to understand what Killian is trying to say. 

“Oh.” He scrunches his face, a soft embarrassed red spreading across his already-red face. “So what’s our plan then?” 

Killian turns to David, who gestures for him to take over. “Well, our only hope is Merlin, and I haven't been able to get a hold of him. There's rumor he's somewhere in the Northern Mountains, hopefully still with The Jewel of the Realm, and I have a pretty good idea as to where, so I suppose that's our next destination." 

The room falls silent again, each of the men around the table trying to decide just how to feel about all of this — Killian’s torture, the need to travel to new lands, to fly. But David doesn’t let them ruminate for long. 

"Pack your things, fellas. We probably have a few days still, but we leave as soon as the ladies meet us here."

TAGS: @shireness-says​​ @cssns​ @kmomof4​ @thisonesatellite​  @teamhook​ @darkcolinodonorgasm​​ @cocohook38​​ @ultraluckycatnd​ @facesiousbutton82​ @hollyethecurious​​ @stahlop​​ @tiguanasummertree  @angellifedeath​​ @pepperpottss​​ @mariakov81​​ @scientificapricot​​ @kday426​​ @xarandomdreamx​​ @ohmightydevviepuu​​ @xhookswenchx​​ @nikkiemms​​ @carpedzem​​ @superchocovian​​ @resident-of-storybrooke​​ @snowbellewells​​ @courtorderedcake​​ @captain-emmajones​​ @killian-whump​​ @officerrogers​​ – want to be added or removed? let me know!

[jess-the-vampire]

Sky and the Forces of the Multiverse, Chapter 41

Previous/ Next

"LANDON!?".

Landon seemed startled, sure, he was expecting maybe something when holding onto one of the most powerful magical weapons in the world, but this was still shocking to him. No one could've told him this was going to happen to him. He thought he was just going to take the wand for a minute, use it himself so celeste didn't have to, and hand it over when he and sky

both found bernard.

But his cheeks felt...warm?

Was this how his mom felt when their cheekmarks glowed?

His mom.

He was at a loss for words.

Years of feeling inferior to his brothers, and their superior mastery of their demon abilities, their father's.

How could he have never considered the weaker side he got from his mother might of led to this? His mother had markings, his mom used a wand before, he seemed in utter awe of this revelation, something he and no one else considered. Though considering his exposure to pure magic most likely only escalated this on him and made it worse, he reached up to touch his face, but his face felt normal.

But it was still glowing.

His face was glowing.

"Judas...I was just...i wanted to do the spell...the spying spell and find him and...judas what...how..". Judas wasn't even mad, reaching out to touch his brother's face, lost in thought, they had to tell their parents about this one. There was no way they couldn't mention this to them, landon barely knew what to do with this information and they would know better then anyone.

"Landon...I...", judas didn't seem to know what he should say, should he be impressed?

Scared? Should he do something about it right now?

Landon quickly put the violin and bow down on the bed quickly, heading over to a mirror to look at his face, "S-sky...celeste...how do you turn these things off!? You can turn them off right? Please tell me these aren't permanent!?". He was patting his face as if it was somehow a light switch that would just turn his markings off, but of course they stayed as it, glowing pure white as sky's would when performing much more powerful magic.

"Knowing your mom's...they're probably not permanent, but like, if you keep panicking they're not going anywhere, you need to chill and they should die down...".

"What?! What do you mean by that?!".

"Dude, magic and emotions are basically linked, if you keep panicking, you'll just keep them on!", she said, waving her arms, "Take deep breaths or something, don't panic! Once you chill the magic should fade down...hopefully...". It was probably hard for landon to just calm down though, his face was glowing and he had his own magical wand pop up in his hands.

Of course he was panicking.

Any reasonable person would.

Landon tried to calm down, breathing and thinking of words, but the marks had yet to fade, probably because landon wasn't actually calm and was just trying to force it. The boy's mind was not at ease and for now they were just going to have to deal with it as is, the wand was still sitting on the bed, shiny and fantastical. Of course landon would have a violin as a wand.She'd never seen it used by anyone who wasn't in her own family before, not even the one

Queen Lucitor had, so this was a new one for her. What was celeste's blue teardrop gem was now what seemed to be a beautiful ruby, the gold wouldn't really be the first thing sky would think of when it came to "Landon", but then again sometimes wands didn't look exactly like their wielders either.

Even Celeste seemed to like landon's wand more then her own.

Landon was so obsessed over what just happened he nearly forgot why he waned to borrow the wand in the first place, quickly turning to sky again in more panic, "Bernard! We need to find him...I need to...". Only for judas to quickly intersect, "Oh no no, we have our friends and grandpa out looking as is...right now we need to tell mom and dad what just happened...".

"Judas..", sky said, tapping his shoulder, "C'mon, it's his crush and best friend...maybe that takes more priority right now, we can do it right after...and tell them what we found...if we find anything.". Guess she had a point, it was just last time sky used that spell, they did get exposed because of it, then again they also saved angel because of it as well...

He gave in, if only because a life was possibly on the line if they did nothing.

"Alright...I guess you're right, but unless he's in critical danger...we don't go in immediately, we need a plan if he is...just...be careful", landon still seemed highly nervous, no longer confident he could actually use this wand to do anything, in fact he wasn't even sure he wanted to touch it even thought he knew he had to. Celeste sure seemed uncomfortable in giving it to him now.

Sky gripped her own wand, praying it worked and her lessons were paying off.

Now she was teaching others like eclipsa and her mom taught her.

Landon carefully grabbed ahold of his wand, because it wasn't a traditional wand it was hard to say if landon would even follow the same rules sky did, but they didn't have much of a choice here if they wanted to do this, and they didn't have a ton of time to goof off if bernard was in any sort of trouble either. They needed to get themselves together and hope for the best.

"Ok well...hold the wand like this...uh...get a good grip on it, point it away from you...please...", landon stared and tried to adjust his wand, not really sure which way the magic would be shooting from considering it's shape. This was probably not the spell he would learn first on a regular day but it would have to be the first one for this case, though celeste looked about ready to take her wand back and just suck it up and do it herself.

"Ok, just repeat after me...and just...concentrate on what you're looking for...you need to focus...we might not get it right away...", landon nervously nodded, "Sure uh...i'll try...". He better try, if he didn't they might end up looking somewhere else entirely and be entirely off track, though him being her partner in this only made sky more nervous.

Sure, others had done it fine before but-

Luna, was a professional.

Her mom, was a professional.

Eclipsa, well eclipsa made the spell, so yeah.

They just, well they had to be careful.

"Ok...follow my words on this...", Sky coughed, nervously eyeing landon, "I summon the All-Seeing Eye...To tear a hole into the sky... Reveal to me that which is hidden...Unveil to me what is forbidden." Landon attempted to speak the same words as she did but he clearly fumbled a few of them, resulting in a spark from sky's wand, a tiny hole appearing before vanishing...and a spark only from the demon's new wand.

"Sorry...", landon quickly started saying the spell under his breath to remember it, "I'll try again, i'm ready...". Celeste looked nervous nearby, it was a bad idea to let landon do this wasn't it? Not that she would be much better with this spell, but still, this was a rough spell to make landon do when he was panicking and not sure even what he was doing was good or not.

It was just more stress on top of stress.

"I summon the All-Seeing Eye...", both parties started off, slow, giving the other more time.

"To tear a hole into the sky... ", their wands started to spark, small glow coming from both.

"Reveal to me that which is hidden...", their eyes were shut tight, gripping for impact.

"Unveil to me what is forbidden!".

A reaction, both wands forming eyes, a purple portal opening before them and-It closes, it's shape vanishing from where it was and leaving the users again in the dust.

Again, they have to keep trying.

But the next try failed, and so did the next, the portal vanishing over and over.

However, it did seem to be getting better, small improvements, but they weren't fully getting it right, and even so...sky was doing better then landon.

They didn't have time for this, they needed to get it right.

He knew he was just starting out on magic he barely knew much about but he was quickly starting to feel just as useless as he did before, only he could possibly discover something about himself he hadn't known before and then proceed to screw it up when he needed it. He wasn't good before, of course he wouldn't be good now? What had he even expected?

His anxiety was quickly effecting his magic, and everyone in the room could tell.

This was a bad idea, and faint green light from his wand was a clear sign of it.

Landon was about to give up until celeste grabbed his shoulder from behind, "Do it again...c'mon, your boyfriend needs you right? If he's in danger you can't give up and sit here...dude just...have confidence in yourself. You did a bunch of dumb stuff but you can get better...don't give up, this is not the time for your to chicken out on doing something you care about...".

She was right, he was already giving up, and as sky started to raise her wand to do it again he started already chanting the spell again, sky being the one to try and quickly follow. Landon still wasn't good but it seemed having celeste helping him helped boost the power, a faint glow around the both of them to help make landon's attempt at a spell more powerful.

And this time, the portal finally stayed, sky in utter relief.

The portal however, showed very little, in fact it was too dark to see anything.

At the very least it ruled out a few options of where the human was.

"Bernard?", landon got closer to the portal before being pulled back by celeste, "Don't get close to it...you might as well be trying to die, we know that thing can at the very least see these spying portals...so if they break through we're out of serious luck". Landon backed off,

"So wait...he can't hear any of us through this thing?", and everyone shook their heads.

"The whole "Spying" thing is kinda pointless if the person being spied on can see a giant spying portal in front of them, that was why it was a shock when she tried to break it before...she shouldn't see it", landon looked at the dark portal more skeptically, if bernard was in there he wouldn't have any idea anyone was even looking at him. Or maybe they got it completely wrong and weren't tracking him much at all.

After last time, that masked person was sure to have put extra measures up so they never spied on them again.

"Well, now what? should we just-".

That's when the door finally opened, a spider prince and half-slime princess returning with a pile of snacks, accompanied by a server who had some on a small table. Clearly they had expected to come back to everyone as they were, quiet and waiting, but with landon...how he was, everyone up and freaked, and well y'know...the giant portal sitting in the center.

And judas worked fast.

The two were pulled in with the table and the worked was shut out, with a quick "Thanks" from the demon prince as the bewildered royals nearly dropped the goods they were carrying on them. The food was put down as the two royals took in the scene before them, their faces had entirely dropped, and though they were looking at the portal, landon was definitely more of interest right now.

They were just...staring at him.

"So...landon wanted to find bernard...and well...yeah", sky said, rubbing her hands together,

"Look...we're all a little freaked out right now, ok?". Angel was quick to come close, all his eyes directly on the glowing cheekmarks, "Wait...he can do that? I mean sure, i've seen Queen Lucitor with them despite being human...i've never seen them on well...a monster before...".Considering meteora had them, and no one in this room had seen her, yeah, this would be everyone's first occurrence seeing this on a monster.

"They're not permanent...I think...", sky tapped her chin, "Queen Lucitor's aren't...but when you use butterfly magic or maybe get a little emotional, they'll act up...mom always told me they were more of y'know...a tracing of a mark since you guys aren't really mewman...but still marks anyway. But yeah, guess landon's gonna be getting used to this...".

Landon felt his face, "I have marks, i used a wand...and I did magic...".

"How did it feel...?".

Landon paused.

"Weird...but...I guess not...terrible either...".

Nora approached the portal, curious, though there wasn't much to see.

"Nothing?".

"Nothing...it seems".

Angel took a look at the portal next, contemplating what he was looking at, his ears flickering. "Well, I think you mentioned before last time you tried something like this a counter spell was used...right? To make sure you couldn't see what you were looking for...so...I guess it figures they'd be using one now. I'm not exactly an expert on your magic but well...that seems to be the case". He was right, they weren't stupid, whoever they were, of course they had protection up just to be safe.

"Yeah, but how do we counter a counter spell?!", sky asked, frustrated, "Even luna had no idea how to really fix this thing, not that he had a chance before they tried to break through, so what we were supposed to do about it?". Luna sure wasn't here to help them either, so it was all up to them to figure out something soon if they wanted to know what was being blocked from their eyes.

But what?

Judas came closer to the portal, thinking carefully before taking out the charm he had gotten from luna. This was possibly not going to work, he didn't exactly know what would happen, but it was at least worth trying just to text. At worst it didn't work and they had to try something else entirely, he hesitated before reaching out his hand to touch the strange portal.

he felt a strange stinging sensation as a finger touched the portal and he felt as if his arm would trigger from the sensation, thought upon closer look it did seem the mere touch of his finger left a small see through hole in the counter spell. Judas was purely experimenting but he actually felt impressed with himself, and so did sky who nodded with approval.

"Huh...nice thinking, guess it wasn't all bad you saw luna today...".

He clutched his arm, "Well, if this actually works, I-I can try to open up a bigger hole in this spell and we could try and peek inside and see what's happening, but...we'd need to be fast...it's not exactly the best feeling...". There seemed to be an agreement on this as the right solution, and judas looked to landon before looking back at the portal awaiting him.

He kinda wondered if maybe he should hand it to someone else, especially if this could trigger his arm into a reaction.

But he felt himself push that out of his mind, was he an idiot? Someone's life could be in danger here.

He gritted his teeth and went in, if he had to deal with the arm because of this, it would have to be a risk he was willing to take.

He pressed his palm flat against the portal, the stinging remaining as he gritted his teeth and closed his eyes. Sky and Landon were the ones to approach to get a quick peek inside, the sooner they did the sooner judas could get off before he couldn't anymore. Inside of the growing hole in the blockage they could finally get a view of whatever it was they wanted to hide.

Before their eyes they could spot stone walls, rather old ones by the look of it, the room itself was not very defined and seemed to be small.

But that's not what mattered, because their eyes quickly too attention to the main event.In the center of the small room, annoyed and lost in thought, was a very familiar pierced, sweater wearing human.

Bernard was playing with what looked like cuffs around his arms and legs, and landon only stared at him, not sure how to react his expression was quickly twisted into one of serious anger, though upon closer inspection he seemed to also be crying. He was going through so many emotions at once and as judas removed his hand from the portal he had to pull landon away from the portal.

But not before sky snapped pics with her compact of the scene.

"Landon...are you-?!".

"WHERE WAS THAT!? I'm gonna CRUSH THEM!".

His eyes were glowing in anger, flames around him explosively that everyone had to stand back from his outburst. This was the maddest anyone had ever seen landon, and with his marks it looked like he might combust. Judas rubbed his arm before quickly trying to calm his younger brother down with a hug, pulling him into a tight embrace before his anger got the best of him.

"JUDAS LET GO OF ME! I NEED TO- I-I need to..." back to tears, as his eyes stopped glowing and he was crying into judas's shoulder, where were they supposed to go now? That barely told them anything about his location! Bernard being locked up anywhere really tugged at landon's heart, just thinking about how long he might've been in there, was he even eating?

What if he was hurt or-?

Sky's compact buzzed, she quickly pulled it out and her blue eyes widened.

"Hey uh...sunny texted me...they know as well...", sky gritted her teeth, "He was taken to be held ransom...".

"Held ransom for what?".

"They want a wand...".

Angel stiffened, considering how in the dark he had been about Her's plans, hearing this must've been making him rethink a lot of things. Though considering how much they seemed to thought they had targeted a rather powerful item in the underworld, and how loki had gone for celeste's own wand awhile ago, there did seem to be a high interest in magical weapons for whoever this was.

"Why? Aren't they powerful enough without one?", celeste grumbled, "They never needed one to do magic before...what could they possibly need the wand for?".

That...was a good question actually.

They clearly had shown to be rather powerful magically, whoever they were, they had no need for a wand to do spells, so what was the point in even having a wand at all? Most of anyone who wanted the wad simply wanted magic and to perform magic, something most beginners needed a wand for. There was little benefit to owning a wand unless you wanted to become powerful with magic.

Guess for the time being however, that didn't matter, what mattered was they wanted the wand for the boy.

And no one in their right mind wanted bernard in danger, or for this person to have an all powerful wand in their possession. This all seemed to be familiar to sky, her mother told her story once about giving up her wand for queen lucitor once, who had also been kidnapped and held ransom for a wand. Her mother had chosen her friend over the wand, a bold move, but if possible they wanted Bernard back and the wand.

Besides, sky might need her wand to bring her sisters home.

It would be no use with someone else.

But what could they do?

Well one thing was clear.

"C'mon, we need our parents...now...".-The removal of the bugs sent the couple out of control, they talked over each other, were constantly panicking and asking questions, and overall all their emotions were let out to everyone. The diazes had no idea what had been happening, so even they needed to be a bit filled in on what they were missing. This had gotten chaotic rather fast and now they were overwhelmed by bernard's family.

Though their reaction was fair.

Dave would be the same if tom was kidnapped like that.

Sunny was texting sky and carefully slipped her compact to her grandpa, sky had sent them the pic which he carefully kept away from the distressed parents.

They didn't need to see that, they were under enough stress.

"Tell sky to talk to tom and marco...we should stay here...just in case that thing notices we destroyed those bugs and come back...", the parents were in danger too and leaving them here alone was out of the question. Though as sunny texted dave whispered to her, "for the record, I'm impressed with your skills finding those bugs, well done back there..".

"Well...it's something you and papa taught me back home...I'm good with this stuff...".

"I can tell, and I appreciate it...".

Sunny beamed.

"And mason...?", he turned to look at his grandson. "Despite what happened earlier...thank you for helping out too in this..". He reached over and fluffed his grandson's hair, "You did good...thanks mason.". Mason seemed actually rather flattered, even if what he did to help was small at best. At least this time around he didn't get caught and make things worse.

"What are we going to do?", he asked innocently, Curious what their plan even was at this point.

"Well, we're just going to stay back for now, keep them protected, sometimes the best thing you can do is put it in other's more capable hands.", he sat back and watched the couple talk to the diazes, "Marco and Tom are experts on going out on missions, if they can figure out what to do i think they can handle this well...". His attention turned to bernard's family, tapping his fingers.

They turned to him, still incredibly uncomfortable and anxious as any couple would be under these circumstances. But at the very least they were talking and giving them some sort of assistance instead of pretending there was nothing wrong while obviously acting like something was probably wrong. The former king of demon still lined with more questions about the kidnapping.

"So...question, this was all done for the sake of ransom...correct? We never received a ransom before this point so i was curious about how they thought we'd hear about this?". The couple exchanged looks, "Well, with your grandson and our son being friends they thought we'd tell you... or he would find out, but well...we never were sure how to get in contact with you...I think they assumed we all in really good contact".

Dave pointed to the diazes.

"Oh...right, that might've worked...we were well...a little panicked at bernard being taken by a magic flying doll...sorry.", they shrugged their shoulders sheepishly, "Bernard...tells us stories sometimes about well...landon, but we never thought this would well...lead to something like this. Granted, him going to a demon realm probably wasn't rather safe to begin with."

"It's a bit safer then it used to be...", the old king quickly added in, "My kid in law really knows a lot about making things safe i'll tell you that. Bernard was safe being there...but unfortunately it seems someone took notice of him.". Honestly after this they were lucky if Bernard would be allowed back on mewni considering how going to mewni led to him being kidnapped.

The man couldn't even completely defend his own kingdom, he nearly died several times down there, some of which were doing rather simple tasks.

But it HAD improved, and it didn't seem they were the direct cause of this situation themselves, bernard seemed to have just been unlucky as the captive for this. He however, had not been harmed by the looks of it so at least he was still better off then what had happened to angel, though they were on a time crunch and who knows what would happen if they didn't act now.

No one wanted t think on that.

"How can we guarantee his safety?", Mrs Lydia nervously twiddled her thumbs, "We don't know anything about your...weird world how do we know he'll be back in one piece.".

There was really no easy way to say it honestly.

We can't", the man said plainly, "But...honestly if we don't get him back safe and sound I don't think landon will ever forgive us, and that's enough for my family to make sure of it.".

They didn't seem to know how to react to that, but they didn't have much of a choice but to trust in them for the time being. Lydia let out a weak laugh, "Bernard used to hide chocolate bars around the house...since we weren't fond of him having sweets...I remember cleaning his room to find one hidden in a show box...he's such a smart boy...though strange.".

"I see you miss him.".

"Any sane parent would...I just wish we hadn't fought before the kidnapping...".

"You had a fight?", that seemed to make everyone pause for a moment, as if wondering if something more had happened during this whole thing.

The couple exchanged looks, "We aren't big on his well...magic thing, we don't find it practical, he's always been upset about it with us.". The mention of it seemed to get sunny's attention, who frowned and bit her lips. "You mean you don't support his hobbies? But he's really passionate about them! Why wouldn't you support something that makes him happy?!".

"Well...it's just not practical as a career...few make it and he could work on something else...prepare for something more...helpful for his future".

They said it so casually and it really seemed to bother sunny in particular, not that it didn't bother the others, even the smiley diazes were feeling the tension in the room from that comment. The couple seemed to have noticed they hit a nerve with the people who were here to protect them and seemed to fall silent, no one in this room knew Bernard that closely but they did know his magic seemed to make him happy.

"I'm a prince...", mason said, his legs swigging off the side of the couch," I like to garden...I know I'm not built to garden and I know being a prince gives me an advantage, but...being able to garden just means a lot to me...it makes me happy. Bernard has magic, magic makes him happy, why don't you want to do anything that makes him happy?".

"Well it's not that-".

"Pardon me Mrs Bonderio", The diazes finally spoke up, Angie raising her hand, "But whether or not your son makes it as a performer, if he decides he doesn't want to do that, maybe it's best for him to figure that out himself instead of picking that for him? Raf here paints for a living and I do lectures, they're not the kinda jobs you would expect typically but they made us rather happy anyway...sometimes the best jobs for us are not the ones people first think of".

"If you ask me...", dave interjected, "I think bernard would prefer to come home somewhere he could enjoy what he enjoys...i'm sure he knows he's loved but...supporting your child is just as important...I promise you that.".

They didn't say a word, though Mr Bonderio said less then his wife, preferring to let her speak.

Must be a rather quiet man.

"We'll find your son, but I think you all have some stuff to talk about once you reconnect.".-

Tom and Marco were handing some meetings in tom's office, signing some paperwork when judas came in, the demons they were talking to leaving and shooting the prince glances as they headed out. Honestly it was embarrassing to interrupt his parents like this, but it was for important reasons, so there was no time to waste anyway. They had to get this done now before things got worse.

"Judas! Alright, what happened?".

Judas shuddered, "It's a long story but...don't freak...ok?".

They shot him confused looks as judas motioned for landon to come inside, accompanied by celeste and sky.

Wand and marks in full center.

The reactions between the two were mixed.

Both started in shock, as anyone would, marco pressing a hand to their lips as they processed what they were both seeing. Landon felt so uncomfortable, he wasn't sure what his parents were supposed to think about this, his dad was already upset about what happened to judas when he was created. How was he supposed to process landon having cheekmarks?

Marco walked over first, reaching out to touch landon's face, their marks lighting up immediately at the meer touch.

Then they began to cry.

But their face had warped into a smile before landon was crushed in a hug.

"They're beautiful...".

Landon was frozen stiff, not sure how to react to that.

"Oh landon...you performed magic!? I'm so impressed! What spell did you learn?", the boy seemed rather overwhelmed, stumbling on his words, red faced. "Uh..well...I um, I wanted to find bernard and-". Marco looked at him dead in the eyes, "The all seeing eye...that was the first spell I ever tried as well, you...did the all seeing eye too?! To find bernard? Landon that was both irresponsible...but...also rather impressive".

"You're not mad?", he said, eyes shifting.

"Mad that you discovered something about yourself through the love you have for someone you care about? Well, we'd be hypocrites to be mad about that...at least you didn't do anything super dangerous...". They ushered tom to come forward, and tom was still gawking at the sight in front of him, the purple and pink demon coming closer and looking carefully at the boy's marks.

"You're so much more like marco...I...wow...".

Landon was crushed from a group hug with his parents, judas's face twisting into a smile behind him at the sweet scene before him. He knew their parents couldn't ever be mad at landon for this happening, but landon had every reason to be anxious about it and to feel anxious about it. As his parents gushed about landon's cheekmarks, judas coughed to get their attention.

They had other matters to get to.

Judas held out his compact, the picture sky took and sent to the other plain in view for the couple to see, tom immediately taking it from his hands, "Y'know, normally I might get mad you did this without saying a word but...if this saves his life...I can't get too mad...just tell us next time." He took the compact from him as marco further looked over landon.

Tom rushing to get in contact with star to further identify this location.

"I'm sure you feel a little strange...", the human mumbled, thumbs tracing over the markings,

"Don't worry, you'll get used to them...they're not permanent anyway." As if to demonstrate, marco's own moon marks vanished, only making landon more embarrassed, "I-I can't seem to turn them off...I think i'm panicking so much I can't seem to control them at all-".

"It's ok, this whole thing is kinda freaky...take it easy...ok? Don't stress out. We'll handle this".

"You sure you're ok?".

"Landon, we love you now matter what...all your imperfections, all your weird quirks...you don't have to be afraid about dealing with this alone or being a freak...your are important to us and we aren't gonna get mad at you for something like this. You look fantastic and we'll help work through it so it doesn't feel nearly as scary...you got it?", they waited for landon's answer.

His shoulders relaxed, nodding.

"Yeah star, come over as soon as possible, if we can identify the stones we might know where he's being kept...but the sooner the better, call your mother if you have to, we need to act fast.". Landon was torn between his emotions about his marks and his emotions about his crush and best friend being in danger, he was a mess of anger, sadness, and anxiety.

Judas could tell too, his arm still in a bit of pain, and he was trying hard to keep it from getting any worse.

His brother was in no emotional state to go anywhere right now, and he probably wasn't either.

Marco ushered them all out of the office for now, surprised to see celeste sitting outside of the door, next to sky who was still holding her own wand. They were eating from one of the trays angel and nora brought them, angel and nora next to sky and also eating, startled by marco's sudden entrance. It didn't take long for marco to put two and two together when they say sky with her own magical weapon.

"He's using your wand...isn't he?", they asked celeste, who didn't look at them, but nodded.

"Landon, maybe you should give it back to her...for now...", Landoned stared at his wand and bow before handing it over to his half sister, the girl taking it from him as they transformed back into her red, blue and gold rainmaker wand in a flash. Landon's cheekmarks finally fading down without the wand under his control, though with his emotions right now, they could easily come back.

But his mom being here did seem to help.

Angel reached out, offering landon a roll, the boy taking it and biting into it.

All they could do was wait for now.

Star was quick to send guards out almost everywhere she could after seeing that picture, though tom had to tell her to minimized most of them, considering whoever kidnapped the boy could catch on and either hurt him or go somewhere else. This was their opening to find him and they could easily lose it if they knew what was happening and for all they knew they had ears in many other locations.

They needed an idea where to look and they needed to go there without looking suspicious.

With jackie gone, Kelly was already here to help out, right next to katrina.

They were already both giving out plans of action and marking off locations they knew were not this one.

But considering how big mewni was, this didn't help as much as they liked, there was no reason to believe bernard was still even on mewni and not in an entirely different dimension.

"Maybe our best approach is lucy...even if she is a well...rather large and easy to spot dog...", tom scratched the back of his neck, "Or we wait till the ransom arrives and have her come to us while the rescue happens...without a clear idea where he is a rescue is going to be even more tricky...maybe if had had something on him that maybe we could track...".

"His cell phone!", marco said suddenly, "Maybe he still has that! We could use that to go and find his location!".

"Marco, he has a human cell phone! It's not like a compa-".

"Landon provided his number, if we have his number, we can find his phone...", Star looked outright surprised, guess there were still things about human tech she still didn't know anything about. Tom on the other hand, well aside from being impressed marco could hear him mumbled under his breath a little, "Well...that's a little bit creepy...actually...maybe more then a little...".

"I'll go get this sorted out...we'll meet back here with a plan...guess we'll be skipping on dinner tonight...Tom, get your mom, star you outta find eclipsa and janna, kelly and katrina? See if you can get ahold of jackie. "., marco raced out of the office and the group disbanded for now, all with a mission on their hands and no time to goof off. The kids all watching them pass by.

They didn't even protest at not being in the meeting.

They were tired enough as is.

Judas himself was trying to go back to sleep, clutching his arm, though even sky could notice his arm was acting funny, like it was trying to shift but resisting heavily. It probably was not making it any easier for her best friend to get any rest. Honestly after doing that she probably owed him quite a lot, even if he did it not expecting anything in return.

Angel was sharing food with her, everyone back to sitting around and talking and contemplating everything happening.

Especially landon.

If Sky could read his mind right now she was sure it'd be full of anxiety and tons of overwhelming thoughts, he was mostly staring at the floor. His parents probably wanted to spend time with him in his time of need but with bernard at risk they were just going to have to leave him with his brother and his friends, there must've been something strange about going through your life seeing yourself as unremarkable.

Only to find through your mistakes you were more special then you knew.

But landon didn't seem...happy about it, anyone might of found having secret powers exciting.

He wasn't sure what to make of them.

Was he happy? Terrified? Sad? Angry?

There was so much to think about now, more then ever.

And the thoughts of bernard in trouble were only making those new emotions more complicated.

He was hugging his body and squeezing his shoulders, wishing he had confessed before this all went down just in case he never got the chance to confess. If Bernard was brought back he HAD to confess, after he rested, well...after everyone rested. He might never get a chance and his parents might never let him see landon again after this entire thing and-

"Landon...for the record...what you did back there was pretty cool."

Sky offered him a donut, the demon taking it without looking much at her.

"I had help...", he was quick to dissmis exactly what he did it seemed, kinda reminded sky of herself a little.

"Still...pretty cool for a first spell...".

"Thanks...", he said, though his voice was still on the downer side, sky had dealt with landon for years, his bitter attitude and grumpiness were common to her. Though she really had no idea how to deal with it, sitting there and twiddling her fingers. She kinda wanted to cheer him up, something she usually never did but felt inclined to considering how upset he was but she didn't know how.

"Hey...um...landon...I know this whole things is sorta...freaky...I...got mad when angel was well...almost killed...I went off the edge too...wanted to hurt her for what she did.", landon eyed her, wondering where exactly this was going, "So I just...while you're dealing with these new...emotions and stuff...just...be careful...i'm not a demon but...I know magic can get out of hand if you're not careful...".

"We both should want to crush her...", he added, "Does it matter if they're hurting someone we care about?".

"I dunno...but like...when you start hurting people with green magic around here, they tend to make you out as the bad guy...not to mention when magic goes green...well...anything can happen...you don't think I wanted to break the chandelier right?". Landon went quiet at that, he clearly knew internally sky probably didn't, though what if she did?

What if she did and didn't know she did? Had some sort of urge to hurt someone but was unable to really control it before it got out of hand?

"Look, it's just...magic is complicated...and you know less then I do about it...if you ever use that wand again...just...be careful...you don't wanna attract the wrong kinda attention...", though the demon crossed his arms, eating his snack, "Not like I get much attention anyway...right now I just want to save him, that's it...that's all I care about...I want him to be ok...".

"I'm sure he's thinking about you throughout all this...".

"Knowing him...he's not scared...well...not showing he's scared...but he's thinking of some way out of it...", something about that seemed to almost make the demon smile, a faint redness on his face, "He'd never just sit there and let his happen...he'd want to figure out an escape plan himself...like any magician would. Though he'd have to improvise.".

"You think he is?".

"I know he is.".

He sat back and kept eating, "I-I...I'm going to tell him...".

"What."

"I'm going to confess...as soon as he gets back.".

She looked at him like he was crazy, probably because she thought he was, "Not sure after a kidnapping the first thing he wants to hear is a love confession from his best friend there bud...". She didn't meant that to sound rude or anything, it just did baffle her that he intended to do this after bernard hopefully survived a kidnapped and dangerous rescue.

I'd be like her telling nora she was in love with her right after saving her from where she was locked up while her parents were still missing.

There were times where it was best left secret for the time being, even if she admired his boldness here.

Did landon even seem sure he was ready?

He'd never confessed to anyone before, and this was a big moment for him in general. His hands seemed to be shaking and sky only could scratch her neck as a response, "Just uh...be careful...". She left the boy to her own devices only to find angel was staring at her, quickly turning his head, embarrassed to have been caught eavesdropping as his ears pressed to his face.

"Uh...sorry...".

"You heard your name and got curious didn't you?".

He turned redder, "Y-yeah...sorry for eavesdropping on your conversation...".But sky simply shrugged, "Whatever, it's fine, I could talk if you want...like maybe how you and nora seem to be getting close...". Angel stiffened in his seat, his legs twitching a little,

"Oh? Uh...yeah...I guess we are...working with you guys has just uh...kinda brought us together...she admires you both and I went from fighting you to getting along with you so...we've become friends because of you...".

"Well, I think it's great".

"You do?".

"Hey, seeing you and nora go from no friends to a ton of friends is nothing to scoff at...trust me...", she leaned back against the wall, "A lot has changed since we were fighting...don't think we'll ever be the same after all this is over...". She was right about that for sure, no one would get out of this the same as ever, it was far too large to really do that.

"I um...I'm sorry we never became friends before this point...I would've liked being friends for much longer...", he seemed to still have some regrets only for sky to pat his shoulder, "Best not to worry about it too much, judas regrets a lot just as much...now that we are friends, better that you make the most out of it instead of think about what could've been...maybe we needed to fight to learn something or another...".

"You think so?".

"Judas told me his parents were originally enemies, now judas fussing about how lovey dovey they get every time they're in the same room together. Like they're first date was literally his dad tricking his mom into helping him win a badge or something and then that led to them somehow singing to each other? Anyway point is, well...I kinda felt like a total jerk to you...".

"Yeah well...so did I...".

She found herself laughing to herself, "Yeah and y'know...i'm really glad we're not doing that anymore...fighting like that. I'm actually really happy that we're well...friends...it's weird to say but...I like working with you...". Angel smiled softly, he liked hearing that honestly, "Yeah It's a bit...odd...all things considered but...I do prefer this over you and judas pining me down...".

"Eh we can still pin you down, just...not from fighting like that...", she joked, "Yeah...it's well...I'm sorry If i ever...said anything mean or stuff...before...I don't...want to be like that...not again. Maybe it was justified to be upset about my mom and that you were attacking others...but I just mean...I'm sorry if I ever went too far, you shouldn't have to be the only one to apologize for all that...".

"That's...really nice of you...", he clutched his knees against his chest, "Thank you.".

"Y'know, with eclipsa teaching us magic and landon now having well...THAT...maybe we could sorta teach him or something? Together, i mean you're magic isn't the same as butterfly magic but y'know...you learned a lot about it with me...so...maybe we both can help him out.

I mean, if mom is gonna be busy and eclipsa well...yeah...maybe keeping landon from using the magic he has badly might be a good idea...".

He seemed to like that idea, though sky got a sneaking suspicion he was a little worried about it.

She had used it badly too after all, not all on purpose.

It was a nice thought, but how could she teach someone something she didn't even fully know how to do? She'd have to think more on it, she just knew looking at landon himself, that if they weren't careful, landon could abuse the new power he's discovered. Her mother could also do it, but better to be around her in her eyes then her mom at this point.

At the very least, everyone HAD to keep an eye on landon from this point forward.

"I think bernard will make it...", sky mumbled.

"How come?".

"Galexia has a drawing of um...a hug...everyone is in it...including him so...he has to make it...I hope.".

Angel was silent at that, but a nod from him said he trusted her on that, even though he knew as well as she did by now that not all of lexi's drawings would come true or not into the world. In her own eyes though, there was no reason to hurt bernard, the masked being only attacked angel because he planned to expose them and tried to attack her.

So they didn't hurt just to hurt.

If bernard didn't do something stupid, which from all her encounters with him told her he usually didn't...no harm should come to him.

But then again, she couldn't promise that,

What she could promise was everyone here would be here for landon no matter what throughout this, there was no way even his parents could kick him from helping out now . He was in too deep, and he was much too important to be neglected. Even angel seemed nervous around landon, knowing the pain of a loved one being in danger and feeling helpless all too well at this point.

Judas slept nearby, grasping his arm in his rest.

At least he was getting rest at all right now, though the way it was acting put sky in worry, she still had the device to zap him if needed, she still had her tazer, but would that do anything? If that portal situation told them anything, pain only provoked it, it didn't send it back. Angel and Nora looked just as concerned about the arm, the necklace clearly wasn't doing much to affect it.

It seemed to be hard as is to keep it from coming out by force at the moment.

Though the shifts in purple and the fingers unfusing and fusing together was not pleasant to look at, in fact it was shocking judas could sleep with it happening, unless it wasn't as painful as it looked. Though as Sky looked it it, it almost seemed to move in line with judas himself, not entirely, but it did make her wonder a little. She'd never seen judas force back a transformation before.

Curious.

Though soon enough, the adults started to return, the most important and first being marco themselves.

"I HAVE IT!", quickly heading inside the office, Tom following them behind soon after, ushering the kids inside to update them. Judas had been awoken by his mother's loud excited boasting anyway. The Queen quickly put the phone out for everyone to see, and sure enough, it had marked a location for bernard's phone. "I might've went to the compact store and had them track it down...compacts and cell phones connect after all...he seems to be...in the musty mountains somewhere.".

The news seemed to bring some light into landon, but also some fury.

"So...what now?".

"Well, star's already sent some spies over there...when they find his exact location, we go in for the attack.".-

Marco smirked as his mask magically appeared on his face, his eyes glowing and his mask ready for action.

Tom already getting dressed up in a cloak to better hide his face.

Star in armor under her own cloak.

And Janna...well janna was already wearing a cloak before they even told her what was happening.

Today they were going to save a child, and maybe catch a criminal.

And the kids?

Left behind, as they expected they would be.

Left in worry and in anticipation.

They trusted their family would be fine, it was more, well...what if they were walking into a trap or something? Or maybe she was one step ahead of them if they had figured out her location? It was always scary when your parents went out, cause sometimes you never knew if they'd come back. The kids left to their imaginations at what the adults were up to.

And as they were stuck there, their parents were already walking through the musty mountains, following marco's tracker closely and hiding themselves as much as possible. This was far from their first rescue mission, would unlikely ever be the last, though it was tense each and every time. They were tough fighters but they'd had their fair share of defeats as well.

And they were almost going into deep waters on this one.

There was a sense of dread, unsure of what they were to find when they found the boy, they knew he was unharmed, sure. But even if she weren't there waiting for them no doubt it would be full of traps just in case someone like them found their way or the boy himself attempted to escape. They were all on caution, well, everyone except for janna it seemed.Janna was cautious, but she was always loving every minute of this.The musty mountain town was quiet, they were more eventful with their underground mountain city then on the outs in most cases. Making this town in general incredibly scarce in people. It was hard to say where bernard was, he could be in any of these buildings, but he could also be buried deep underground in a hidden cell. There was no way to be sure without more investigation.

Their spies pinpointed them here, but while they were out to make sure no one escaped and look out for further info, it was time the royals stepped in to get into the action.

"We might have to split up...", Tom acknowledged, "You and janna? Me and Marco?".

Only for janna to snicker, "Really? If we let you two go together you won't be able to keep your hands off of each other.". Tom blushed and Marco patted their back, Yeah, but i'm not going with you because you can't seem to keep your hands off me now can you?". They looked to Tom and the idea of working with Janna didn't seem to please him too much either.

"Actually, let's just go with the first option...", star piped in, "I have better control over janna then you guys anyway, just stay focused on the job, we gotta hunt for the juicier details". Marco rolled his eyes, he and tom could focus on the job if a boy's life was in danger, they weren't that love struck. As long as star and janna didn't get into too many hijinks.

Which always happened with them, no matter who they were working with.

They split off, one team going one way and the other team going another.

They knew from the tracker they were close, but a tracker could only do so much unless they knew where the phone itself was.

And they didn't.

Tom almost felt relived seeing the woman head off, the less pressure on him during all this the better. He didn't need star or janna judging how he and marco handled things like this, hopefully both of them could come back with joined info of the next step. Tom turned to his partner and sighed, "So...where should we start? Got any good ideas fof where someone with a murder boner for spider teens would hide someone?".

"Honestly maybe the best thing we can do is ask some locals, see if they've noticed anything strange".

"How do we know none of them are working for...you know who?".

"Well tom, the glowing eyes might be a dead giveaway, though last we heard from angel he was the only one who did it willingly.", there was a chance there was more and angel never met them but still. Granted, with how much of a criminal they now were, anyone would be a fool to trust them at all. Angel was a fooled teenager, so they could go a little easier on him.

But anyone at this point who went on their side...

Well they'd have to meet the wrath of some of the most dangerous rulers in mewni.

Their first stop to investigate? The local tavern, a place where many criminals they could interrogate could be. Not that they expected to just spot a masked being getting drinks at the bar but it was good a place as any to ask about anything weird and suspicious from people too drunk to remember what they said. Granted, they could also send them on a wild goose chase by rambling stuff that didn't actually happen.

They'll just have to take their chances for now.

The bar was mostly mad of stone, with a wooden roof lines with straw, on the inside it actually looked rather beautiful all things considered. It had a fireplace, plenty of tables, a warming atmosphere. Well, the pigoat's head on the wall wasn't exactly very welcoming, but other then that it wasn't too bad. Even though the people occupying it were a varity.Some looked intimidating, some were just casually hanging out, others were dancing and singing to music nearby.

The Musty Mountain Kingdom were a kingdom of mole creatures mostly, it was a mining kingdom for the most part. They weren't close with the butterfly or lucitor kingdom overall, keeping mostly to themselves and themselves only. At the very least that decreased their chances of being recognized, if they had gone to something like the mer folk kingdom they'd been lucky to make it out unnoticed.

Tom nodded to marco, who headed to the bar as tom took a seat at a table, watching some of the residents, some had looked upon them as they entered, but went back to their own tasks soon enough. Marco themselves had been to plenty of bars in his life, they kinda had a knack for places like this, and how to mostly act so no one noticed what they ere up to.

And the mask on their face certainly made them intimidating for anyone watching them.The bartender gave marco a look as they cleaned some mugs, mugs that seemed to be made of skulls actually.

They seemed to be worried marco was about to start something with how they were eyeing them, before sitting the skull down and looking at them in the eyes. "Can i help you?", they weren't being rude, but not being nice either, in fact marco thought they were trying to our-intimidate them. Just judging from the way they squinted their eyes and leaned across the counter.

Marco shrugged, "Oh, just hanging out, looking for someone...".

"Oh?", they snorted, "Well if it's the person who gave you that face, then better look elsewhere."..

Marco assumed the guy was talking about the mask, but who knew at this point.

Regardless, how rude.

Marco ignored that comment and proceeded to move on with the ask at hand, "No, not them, see, I'm looking for someone in black, wears white mask, perhaps has magic powers...".

They were slightly deepening their voice, hoping maybe it would be enough to send some shivers down the moleman's spine and hide their identity just that much more.

They snorted in response, "Who are they, your lover?".

"Nah, trust me, I have someone way better...but enough jibber...have you seen them?", marco's face turned cross, his eyes glowing a little more as the moleman started turning away from their gaze. "Well, a lot of strange people come in and out every day, can't be expected to remember all of them, might of had a few weirdos like that come in...like you for example.".

"Yeah but this weirdo is pretty hard to miss, i don't see many people around here in big black dresses and doll masks...".

The guy was clearly trying to avoid telling them something, and marco wasn't going to fell for his mind games. The moleman went silent, continuing to clean a clearly already clean mug, marco glaring at him. "Sir, if you have any updates...I'd like to know, this is important, I don't think you'd want to cross me if you can help it. If you have any info, I'd like to hear it.".

He coughed, "Are you gonna buy something or not?".

Marco continued to glare, getting drunk would only make it harder to get things done, instead a glare of magic coming from their hands, getting the bartender's attention. He gulped, "Look...someone might of come in looking like that, but only for a day, we haven't seen them since...they're probably long gone by now...might as well head out somewhere else.".

"You're not being honest with me, I can tell.".

The monster snarled, "Look pal, if you wanna find your friend you're better off heading out and looking for them yourself...not bothering me about it". Then the bartender's attention turned elsewhere, to tom in fact. The king was talking to a few of the the people at the bar, and in fact, they were all smiling and laughing together, tom cracking jokes at them and making them holler.

Well, good to know tom wasn't taking this seriously.

Marco shot him a look as one of the bigger and scarier mole people put an arm around him,

"Yeah that freak of a woman went off about some underground house she stays in, I think that's what it was, either way she was obsessed with it!". Then another piped in, "That creep can't leave anyone alone, wants to shut us up they do! No one can talk squat about them!".

Marco was baffled.

Of course Tom figured out info from just talking and making friends with some drunk criminals, of course. Tom even looked at marco with an awkward expression, like he hadn't even expected this to work all that much. Marco sighed, tom was too cute sometimes, at least they got something good from this. Though the bartender looked utterly horrified about the scene.

"Get out", he said, rather rudely, more then he ever had been before.

Marco turned back to the mole, who pointed at the door, "The lot of ya! Get out! We're closing early today!".

And despite the protest, tom and marco and the rest of the crowd were quickly moved outside, the door slamming shut behind them. Leaving them all back outside, and a little frustrated they couldn't explore the place further of dna or any clues of the thief's whereabouts. Marco simply shrugged, "Well, he was pretty close to kicking me out honestly anyway.".

To be fair, it wasn't the first time marco had been kicked out of a bar.

Tom snickered to himself, "Well, that was fun...didn't realize how much of a charmer i was...", he sent marco a wink and marco rolled their eyes, smiling. "Well, at least that wasn't a total waste of time...we outta meet up with star and janna, wherever they went. We can exchange anything we've found and maybe we'll be a step closer to his location.".

Maybe, it depends what the girls had actually done with their time, for all they know they went widely off track, which was very accurate for the both of them. In some way marco wished he had taken their son along, judas was not someone they ever wanted in danger but they could trust judas to keep focus on their task. Though if star truly cared about something, she'd get it done.

That he didn't doubt.

Tom talked more to his new bar friends to gather any further information on the masked being. Apparently they had indeed been spotted, but not wearing the same mask, they were talking about someone in a dark cloak and cat mask. But they considered it to be the same person judging from tom's description, people had mostly seen them as a ghost.Seems the knew look kept them from being spotted as the wanted criminal they were.

But an underground house? Were they living inside the mountain ?

They had to take a chance that this was real and not the rambling of a drunk mole monster, just because the bartender seemed rather bothered by it being mentioned. They were just going to have to do some digging, maybe some actual digging at one point. "We've never seen the house, there are just rumors going round about hearing chanting under the ground...and since that thing is a new addition...we assume they're connected.".

Another one of the crowd piped in, whispering, "The town's been a little...antsy about that gal, something about her seems...off...unsettling even. No one can talk around her...and no one wants to cross her...frankly hearing someone come by with answers is a relief.". Marco seemed to be thinking hard about this, seemed the being had relocated here to stay in hiding after they say then last, knowing the people hear knew little about them.

Clever, that means while they never found her old hideout, she had a new one within their reach.

"Has anyone ever...seen them without their mask?", tom hesitated to ask, but it was worth bringing up despite him knowing what the answer would be.

"Sorry, no, no one dares to challenge whoever that is...not even the toughed among us.", nodding to their fellow monsters, "Ripping off a mask is just asking for a fight, but i tell you, they must love it enough to keep it on all the time, who goes into a bar with a mask all over their face...honestly!". Tom furrowed his eyebrows, "You're right...that...is strange.".

"But well, we're heading off to the next tavern, you coming big guy?"

The gang of scary looking mole people nodded to tom who sheepishly shook his head, "Uh sorry, not now, maybe later...uh...thanks for talking to me!". The mole people waving him off as tom sighed, amused. But his face shifted, really considering what was just said,

"Marco...most people go to the bar to have fun, party sometimes, but usually to eat and drink...".

"Yeah?".

"If this person isn't there to eat or drink, and clearly not since their mask never came off, and they are mostly definitely not there to party...why do they go into the bar?".

Marco scratched his chin, looking back at the tavern that kicked them out, "C'mon, let's go meet up with the girls and contact katrina, but we have to be fast...I think we're not done in there just yet.".-

Meanwhile Star and Janna found themselves nearby, checking out everyone's homes door to door, partially because janna probably just wanted to get into people's houses. It wasn't going much anywhere so far, unless you counted scaring some of the residents, but you couldn't prove the thief wasn't hiding in a regular old house nearby unless you made the effort to check!

Though they probably wouldn't be invited back inside anytime soon.

Another door slammed in their face as star check another one off of the list.

"I don't think this plan is working janna, we might have to go try something else if we wanna get a step closer to saving bernard...and...janna?". Star turned around to find janna speaking to more residents a smirk on her face and a terrified one on theirs, when you wanted to intimidate someone, you called janna, even tom wasn't nearly as scary as she had made herself out to be.

She had a presence about her, she always tended to scare the living heck out of anyone that crossed her just by standing in the same room as them. It's probably one of the reasons she made such a good queen, no one wanted to cross her. If she didn't intimidate them then she had plenty of others ways even without magic to help her out with the most unruly of mewmans and monsters.

If she was taking this whole thing seriously she had a good chance of getting some real info from these people, if they didn't keep slamming doors in their faces over and over again to avoid eye contact. If they didn't make progress soon, well they'd meet up with the others empty handed, and they couldn't afford to do that. Not when someone's life was in their hands.

They were going to have to figure out a whole new plan if they wanted to find what they needed, this was getting them nowhere and they didn't have all night to keep running around like earth girl scouts.

Star tapped janna on the shoulder, getting her attention away from bothering the townsfolk who were more then eager to get away from her. Janna crossed her arms and seemed to realize star had a few ideas of what they could do next. Star nodded to some kids playing nearby, maybe the adults would refuse to say something, but kids? Well who knew, maybe they had a better chance.

She knew how they were as kids after all, if they weren't getting into trouble, trouble usually found them.

Star dragged janna long over to the kids playing with a rock, smiling at them as they mole kids started at her in confusion. She kinda stood out with how colorful she was in this grey and dirty town, and so did janna. If they weren't careful, they might scare the kids off thinking these two weird woman were up to no good , star quirk to get to the point.

"Um hey kids! We're looking for someone...you seen someone creepy with a mask around here?".

They kids looked at each other, then at the queen, "You're weird".

Janna snorted and burst into laughter, "I love them already.".

Star tried again, coughing.

"Um...I'll give you candy if you tell me...with insect cores?", bribing tended to work with most kids, janna sure knew that well enough.

The kids looked between the three of them and the middle one stepped in, "The witch doesn't want to be seen...she lives under the dirt and speaks to no one, anyone who meets her gaze may suffer a terrible fate.". The kids's eyes seemed to be darting around the area, as if expecting said witch to come out and grab them and punish them for speaking about them.

"She doesn't talk...to anyone?".

They shook their heads.

"Momma sees them at the tavern, they go in, and rarely come out...they're like a ghost.".

"Tavern?"., that wasn't really what star had been expecting to hear, if anything.

"Yeah, the PigGoat's demise, it's haunted.".

Star looked over to janna, who as already heading out on her way to said tavern, star almost running away she she remembered her promise, reaching into her bags. "My wife kinda likes passing these out to gross people but glad someone likes them!". She eagerly headed out some scorpion lollipops, finally happy to be rid of those things, the kids taking them before stuffing them...into their ears.

Ok...

Star, maybe a tad grossed out let out an awkward wave before running off to find janna, knowing janna would very much get herself into trouble if star didn't catch up with her in time. Janna tended to like finding trouble, and knowing her she was already prepared to break inside of this tavern. That is until star found the woman lying on the ground .

Two familiar royals under her, one holding their talkie with katrina on the other end.

"JANNA!", marco said, annoyed.

"Hey marco!", janna said, brushing off her outfit, "Good to know you guys weren't too far, better watch where you're going though, there's 5 eyes between the two of you.". Tom shot her a look before star approached, "Guys! We thinks we might have a lead...there's some tavern...that she goes into...we should check it out...we should...guys?".

Tom and Marco exchanged looks, sitting up in the dirt, concerned.

"Which tavern exactly?".

Star looked spooked, as if she said something particularly awful to them, and it didn't take long for marco to get ahold of katrina again, their heart beating fast.

"Katrina? I think we found the exact location, get over here fast, we should strike right away."

[zalrb]

I would love to hear your thoughts on Selah and the Spades if you ever get the chance to watch it! It’s on Amazon Prime

OK so. This movie was one of the rare movies I watch where I cared more about the setting and the environment than I did about the characters; the cinematography in Selah and the Spades is gorgeous and it’s poignant and it’s artistic, almost literary, I found myself lost in all of the luscious colours and the striking shots, every shot could be a painting

but all of the emotion, all of the energy that’s in the movie, I got more from the direction than I did from the actors/characters and even from the script.

I believe there’s a connection between Selah and Paloma because of the close-ups and the way the camera lingers on them, the direction indicates to me that there’s an intimacy there but I’m only willing to go with that so much because I don’t see how we get to certain moments; I believe it when Selah says that she’s glad she’s met Paloma but I don’t believe it when she says she doesn’t know what she’d do without her (even if it is manipulation, which I don’t believe it is).

I believe it when Maxxie says that he’s known Selah their whole lives and I do get a sense of them being friends, of course, but to a point, I don’t see how he’d believe Selah would always go back for him because I never got the ride-or-die vibe from them.

For as intriguing as Selah is supposed to be, I didn’t find her to be all that interesting. The way the camera captured her with this poetic gaze was intriguing but as a character?  Not so much.

Objectively, I understood. It would be/could be fascinating to see the way that Selah battles her sort of inner-darkness, how she goes from being warm and tender and seemingly open to harsh and cruel and bloodthirsty --- especially when her mother talks about how she needs to save Selah from herself --- but this is when an actor really has to shine to kind of capture that emotional nuance and I didn’t think Lovie did, the switch between her two natures wasn’t smooth and it wasn’t embodied, her tone kind of remained monotonous throughout the movie to me, I mean everyone’s did (which isn’t to say they aren’t good actors -- Jharel Jerome, for instance, has shown us what he can do in other projects) and she never really leaned into her breaking points. Like if she’s going to cut up the sweater then have her actually break down while doing it? She can start off methodically and get more and more frantic and that’s what was supposed to happen but it remains very contained and if the point was for her to have a sort of inner breakdown while remaining outwardly calm then Paloma wouldn’t have rushed over to her and tell her to breathe so the fact that she didn’t really dig into that kind of frenzy didn’t sell the scene or this aspect of Selah’s character to me. 

Writing-wise, it would be/could be interesting to see Selah’s facade juxtaposed against her vulnerabilities but I never really saw her facade; I can infer that she’s meant to be seen as perfect, her mother questions her about her 93%, it’s been said that she has the best faction, we see her practice smiling in the mirror but we don’t see that facade put into play, we don’t see her navigate the world with that facade. For instance, in Cruel Intentions, we see Kathryn enact a facade

we see Sebastian enact a facade

I do not get this with Selah.

Even when Maxxie tells Selah that she can’t stand anyone being better than her or prettier than her, that she can’t stand someone else having his attention a) we haven’t seen him act in a way where he always put her first before he got a girlfriend b) we haven’t really seen the way the school responds to her, one note saying that she’s the best faction isn’t enough, we haven’t seen her be the Queen Bee so to speak so it all just comes across as throwaway and typical. Even when she’s walking to her dorm to cry in it, what would’ve made it more poignant for me would be to have her not be able to wait till she gets to her dorm and actually have her run to a bathroom stall (as a throwback to her judging girls who cry in bathrooms) and to have not one person say “hey Selah” on the way but a bunch of people trying to get her attention, trying to call her over or trying to say hi to indicate just how popular she is.

Paloma’s motivations seem entirely tied up in how captivating Selah is meant to be but considering that as a character I didn’t find Selah to actually be captivating (although I did really like their chemistry together) I was just like ... I’m sorry, why are you doing this again? In the beginning it is sort of implied that she hasn’t made any friends and she could potentially feel left out as a scholarship student but it’s also not like we see her yearn for inclusion and I didn’t need much to indicate this, instead of her walking through the halls, we could see her eating by herself and glancing over at students who have friends. I just needed an indication that she was missing something that she thought Selah filled but Paloma seemed quite self-sufficient on her own and I didn’t believe the “sway” of Selah so it just had me ask questions that I shouldn’t be asking, like where are her parents, does she not need to check in with them when she stays over at Selah’s, is she poor or just not rich, is there no one else in the newspaper office etc. etc.

Also the idea of Paloma vs. Maxxie or Paloma being too good at being a Spade i.e. “Don’t let Selah tell you otherwise” or Selah drugging Paloma was clunky to me since the whole point is that Selah is graduating and she needs someone to take her place, her competing with Paloma or anyone competing with Paloma when they’re not even going to be around anymore is weird, which leads to me not understanding why Selah finding a successor is super important to her. If it’s the idea of leaving a legacy, I’m going to need to know more about the Spades and the factions, is this something that Selah built herself and it’s the one thing she thinks she’s good at, the one thing she thinks is her own while her mother dominates her life outside of the Spades? Or is it something that’s a school tradition because if it’s simply a school tradition I don’t see why it has to be that deep. It’s not like Paloma is phasing Selah out and rendering her obsolete when she’s leaving anyway.

I also thought it was interesting that the “war” between the faction happened in sophomore year (also what exactly did this war entail) because that means junior year had to have gone by but they’re acting as if the whole thing with Tila (Teela?) happened a year ago, I also expected there to be a more devastating/sinister consequence to Tila (yes, drugging someone is already sinister but I did expect something a little more dramatic).

In terms of factions, I mean the idea was interesting but I actually thought Brick did the whole concept of a seedy underworld in high school better, like instead of just outwardly being like “Factions. Park.” or whatever, they used signals and codes, which adds to the mystery of the whole thing:

and I kept thinking back to Brick especially with Bobby since she’s a drama student and Brick had Kara who was also a drama student:

I’m also not a person who likes themes explicitly stated so the monologues about power had me like, OK. Sure.

All in all, I would give it a B- if the cinematography and direction wasn’t so spectacular so I’m giving it a B.

[yeoldontknow]

Totem

Author’s Note: this story is entirely an act of fiction. it contains strong, mature themes and features subjects which may be triggering or uncomfortable to read. these themes include, but not limited to: themes of abduction, references to ptsd, extreme trauma, and paranormal activity. please take these warnings seriously and do not read if any make you uncomfortable. | this story is written as a script, rather than a traditional prose fanfiction. even though its unusual, i still hope you enjoy it <3 happy spooptober! Pairing: Hoseok x Reader (oc; female) Genre: horror; suspense; thriller; haunted house au; light romance; au Summary: What follows is an account of YouTube vloggers Euripet3s1 and theJungProject. This is a report of the last known whereabouts of Jung Hoseok. Rating: M Warning: themes of abduction/ghostly possession; references to ptsd; extreme trauma; paranormal activity; explicit language; non-explicit nudity; graphic situations Word Count: 5.5K

Towards the end of my research for my Ph.D, I became fascinated by what has recently been cited as the "second wave" of realism films in production, thanks, in part, to the advent of creative social websites like YouTube and Vimeo. The introduction of reality and scripted reality television, alongside its relatively unilateral conjunction with the internet, sparked a new direction in filmmaking that prided itself on low budgets and the autonomy of immediate authorship. 

Where Vimeo encouraged, and favoured, well produced filmmaking and art house developments from a range of semi-professionals to professionals, YouTube saw a strong dynamic shift in what eventually was defined as vlogging. Video series like Marble Hornets, Fewdio, and curiously chilling uploads by users such as EverymanHYBRID became cult canon amongst internet users. Instead of humour posts, video game plays, and make-up tutorials, users sought creative expression in 'noise aesthetics' and the horror genre. 

On April 30, 2010, YouTube user Euripet3s1 (full name: Y/F/N Y/L/N) uploaded a video entitled #184-190 to her channel of 12,413 subscribers. It would be the final upload she would make before deactivating the account three weeks later, eventually removing herself from social media altogether. The video itself is an account of her trip to England to visit fellow YouTube vlogger and boyfriend theJungProject (full name: Jung Hoseok), who was residing in the country while finishing his degree, depicted through seven pieces of footage taken from video cameras and mobile phones. 

Euripet3s1's channel was a comedy and lifestyle channel, in which she would present everyday information in a humorous way. Therefore, the unsettling events in the final video left both fans and casual viewers stunned. Avid fans of the Marble Hornets series were the first to draw attention to the video, before it went viral on hundreds of forums, including Reddit and BuzzFeed. When the users’ account was deactivated, the video was removed from the website only to resurface two months later by user TwerK (full name: Kim Taehyung). There are only two videos on TwerK's channel: #184-190 and Help Explain This. 

Help Explain This was filmed in August 2011 and is the last surviving footage of Jung Hoseok.

Numerous attempts at paranormal investigations have occurred in the last two years with no results. Psychics have been brought to every location depicted, though their efforts have been futile. The pocket watch in the film has been defined, by paranormal researcher David Kelwayne, as a totem. To quote David:

 "A totem is an item left behind by the dead which they had ascribed deep personal meaning or symbolism during their life. To come into contact with a totem is to contact the spirit attached to it, even if said contact is relatively erroneous; to become connected to the totem is to become connected with the spirit, often permanently" (Seeking Answers: Beginner's Guide To The Paranormal, 54)

This report exists only to present the video as it was found, in its untouched manner, for archival and historical purposes. The research to be found on the events, people, and locations involved has lead many in vast circles and down endless rabbit holes. It is my hope that the academic world will provide its resources for the many seeking answers about what truly happened to Jung Hoseok during that week in April. 

 ~~

Editor’s note: Heretofore, the speakers will be quoted using their first initials rather than their usernames.

#184

Duration: 1:46

[Exterior. Night-vision mid-close up of dirt path. Leaves cover the ground and crunch audibly. Feet remain in view as two persons walk the path in brisk, even steps. A low male voice is heard, his accent distinctly Korean. ]

H: Are you filming, Y/N?

[A second voice speaks, female. She is American]

Y/N: I have no idea. Your camera is weird.

H: It's no different from any American camera. It's a SONY. Has the green dot gone on?

Y/N: Well, it's different in the dark. Yeah, it has.

H: Then it's filming. Point it at your face, dummy.

[Camera is lifted and spun towards the holder's face, the night vision on the camera giving her a blue glow. She is young, no more than 24. The fringe of her hair gets caught in her eyes, trapped there by the hood of her sweater. She smiles brightly, waving at the camera momentarily.]

Y/N: And so we meet again! Today I am joined by theJungProject -

[camera pans left. A young man, also no more than 24, is walking briskly with his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket. He squints at the light of the camera and pulls a face by sticking out his tongue]

- say hi, Hobi.

H: [nods once] Hello, Tiddy Harem.

Y/N [sighing]: Must you call them that?

H: [shaking black hair out of his eyes; he sniffs, not looking at the camera] You have thirteen thousand subscribers and 12,950 of them are men. Yeah, I'd say it's a harem.

Y/N: [snorting] I do not have thirteen thousand. And that's an insult to my fifty female subscribers.

H: You know I’m playing. [sniffs] You have fantastic tits, though.

Y/N: You’re literally disgusting. [turns camera back to her face] So, as you all remember I landed last night in Heathrow, after which I got embarrassingly drunk on incredible beer. We spent most of the day being hungover before getting on a train from - what station was it?

H: [in background] Liverpool Street.

Y/N: Right, yeah. We got a train from there to here, [pulls camera back to wave hand, denoting surrounding location] which is apparently Suffolk…specifically Sudbury. We had a grand idea to go to the Borley Rectory because I'm in England and apparently that means it's okay for Hobi to go on a midnight ghost hunt.

H: I'm not ghost hunting, I'm just…exploring.

Y/N: [faces camera; raises one eyebrow]

[Camera turns off] 

~~~

#185

Duration: 7:08

[Interior; night. Camera pans from left to right as Y/N breathes heavily. The windows of the rectory are shattered. Leaves scatter the concrete floor. What little furniture existing within the house has been tattered and worn over time, the sheen of its once extraordinary grandeur decayed with dust and time. Y/N walks to her right, into a small dining area. The camera pans over a wooden table that is badly scratched, three long distinct marks marring the mahogany. A hand comes into view, Y/N’s, as she runs her fingers over the marks. The camera pans up and to the left, showing cabinets that are missing their drawers. She leaves the room, slowly walking towards the foyer. A mirror hangs on the wall, the light reflecting off the glass into the lens. She waves.]

H: [distantly; calling] Baby, come up here.

[Y/N head turns right, facing the direction of Hoseok’s voice. The camera turns right as she walks straight back toward a carpeted staircase. Slowly, she ascends it, her footsteps quiet and muffled by both the camera and the foliage. She sniffles. As she approaches the landing, a painting of a pasture comes into view. It is crooked. When she reaches the landing, the camera moves from right to left. There are three bedrooms]

Y/N: [loud whisper] Where are you?

H: [voice from left] In here.

[Camera passes through a doorway. Long shot of Hoseok at chest of drawers to the left. There is an empty bed on the right side of the room, the mattress bare and torn. The video pixelates for approximately two seconds, correcting itself. The windows of the bedroom are in tact, though the carpet has been ripped up from the floor in a seemingly random pattern. Y/N walks to where Hoseok is standing. Atop the chest are several items: a broken hairbrush, a small empty picture frame, an empty ring box and a pocket watch. Y/N zooms in on the pocket watch. Hoseok picks it up, his grip indelicate. Y/N turns the camera, and zooms out to a medium close up of Hoseok’s face as he inspects it]

H: [whispers] This rectory had hundreds of residents before it was condemned. I wonder whose this was.

Y/N: [also in a whisper] Hobi, this place was destroyed by a fire in 1939. Isn't it weird to you that there's still…..things, objects…belongings in here? Nothing seems terribly ruined.

[Pause. Hoseok does not reply. Y/N returns the subject to the pocket watch, appeasing him by maintaining focus on the object though her discomfort is evident.] It looks really old. Can't be from any time after 1920, look at the design. Early surrealist or something.

H: [humming in interest] How do you know that?

Y/N: I’m taking art history for my electives. I’m just saying it looks like something I’ve seen.

[The camera zooms back on to the pocket watch in Hoseok’s hand. There is a patch of dirt along the rim of the cover, but an intricate design of intertwined clock hands and numbers is distinct.]

H: This is mental. You know the more you look at it, the more it resembles a kind of face. Like from a masquerade. 

[Long pause]

Y/N: I don't see it. Where are you looking? 

[Hoseok’s thumb comes into view. It presses the button on the side to open the watch. The cover pops open with a soft click, revealing an elegant Victorian clock face.]

H: Too much to ask for it to be working, isn't it. [laughs]

Y/N: Probably needs to be wound. 

[Hoseok closes the pocket watch.]

[Cut. Interior. Y/N thuds down the stairs after Hoseok, hands clasped and both laughing They come to a stop in the parlor. Hoseok inspects bookshelves, looking for something or nothing, running his fingers over the dusted wood. Y/N turns the camera away and zooms in on a picture frame. It is badly singed. The image of a woman, who looks almost sad, is barely discernible.]

Y/N: [muttering] Something about this……isn't……

[The sound of piano notes echo loudly through the room. Y/N screams loudly, swears, and is visibly shaken as she turns toward the noise. Hoseok sits at a piano by the back of the room, playing Erik Satie's "Gnossienne No. 1." He is chuckling. Y/N approaches him.]

Y/N: There's a fucking piano?

H: [plays uninterrupted] Scare you, did I? 

Y/N: Hobi, is there anything about this that's ok? You said this place was destroyed by a fire and has been abandoned. Logic this out for me: why would there be a piano in a burned down house? Wouldn't the city have this cleared out?

[Hoseok shrugs]

Y/N: I think we should go. 

H: Don't want to spend the night here? We haven't seen anything yet.

Y/N: I paid £35 for a train ticket to this hell. I'll cut my losses and say we’ve seen plenty enough, okay? 

H: [expression softening, he stops playing. The silence is deafening.] Okay, baby, we can go.

[Cut. Exterior. Y/N and Hoseok walking along a residential sidewalk. Hoseok is holding the camera this time, pointed at Y/N in a long shot. Night vision is switched off, faces now illuminated by street lamps they pass. He whistles seductively.]

H: [whispering] Don’t tell anyone until she watches this guys...but I think I’m in love with her. [He turns the camera to face him. The camera zooms out to fit his face.] I mean it. [He looks over the camera to her.] I love her.

Y/N: [distant, off camera] What are you whining about back there?

H: [laughing, he catches up with Y/N and aims the camera at her profile] Say what you said again. 

Y/N: [biting her cheek, but smiling nonetheless] I said you're a twunt.

H: Look at that! Y/N has spent 30 hours in this country and is already adopting its language. 

Y/N: Yeah, well you are. Tell the audience what you did.

H: [turns the camera to his face and holds it out. His leather jacket is unzipped, revealing A Horrors band-tee shirt] I've been a naughty boy. [His other hand reaches into his pocket. He pulls out the pocket watch] Y/N’s upset with me because I wanted a souvenir. 

Y/N: It's not yours, Hoseok.

H: [turns his face to Y/N, camera still aimed at himself. He puts the watch back in his pocket] It's technically not anyone's. Besides, this is one thing we could at least fix. 

[Camera turns off]

~~

#186

Duration: 2:01

[Interior. Hotel bedroom. Y/N sits at the desk provided, laptop open as she uploads footage from the video camera onto her computer. Her back is to the camera. The pocket watch twirls in front of the screen. Hoseok hums. The camera flips, revealing his face. It is clear he is filming on his iPhone. He starts to mouth lyrics to "Don't Stop Me Now," which is playing in the background. He flips the camera back to the watch.]

Y/N: [turns her head quickly over shoulder] Holy shit, come look at this.

[Hoseok drops the pocket watch and hoists himself off the sofa. He is wearing plaid flannel pants. He approaches the desk, leaning against the back of Y/N’s chair and extending his arm as he films.]

H: [kissing Y/N’s head off camera, voice muffled] What is it?

Y/N: You tell me. [looks back at Hoseok, anxious]

[Y/N has Final Cut open. She presses play on footage taken earlier in the evening. She has selected footage from when he ascended the stairs and entered the master bedroom. It plays without sound.]

H: What am I looking for….I don't…

Y/N: [quietly] Just wait. 

[The footage shows the camera panning through the room. As it comes to the bed, the footage warps, revealing a figure wearing black sitting on the mattress. It turns to look at the camera. It is wearing a white mask. The footage warps again. The figure is gone]

H: [reels back] What the fuck is that?! Did you put that in there?

Y/N: [turns to look at Hoseok] No. How would I do that? 

H: [words unsteady] I don't know, you're the film wizard. I still use iMovie. Maybe you have clever special effects or something. 

Y/N: I can assure you that I have no idea how to superimpose an image that clear onto digital footage. I took one semester of New Media, I'm hardly advanced.

H: How did you not see it when you were filming?

Y/N: I don't know, the camera went all pixelated when I was filming but I just thought the battery was running low or something. 

H: You better not be having me off.

Y/N: [brow furrowed, disbelieving] What does that sentence even mean? 

H: Is this punishment for taking the pocket watch?

Y/N: [pursing her lips briefly before she speaks] I'm really not that upset about the pocket watch. Why would I do that?

H: Whatever. Let's just go to bed and forget about it. I don’t want this to turn into a fight.

Y/N: Fine by me.

[Video ends] 

~~~

#187

Duration: 0:53

[Interior. Mid-Day. Close up of Y/N’s face. She stares at something out of view. Behind her, the scenery has changed. Band posters line the green wall, gig tickets and setlists framed next to them. This is what many assume is Hoseok’s bedroom.]

Y/N: [whispers] He's been like this all morning. I have no idea what the hell is going on. He was fine yesterday when we got back from Borley. Fine when we went to lunch, fine when we went to The Borderline for the Lescop gig. Now, he won't stop staring at that goddamn pocket watch. Look.

[The camera is flipped, again the film is from an iPhone. Hoseok sits shirtless on the bed, hickeys dotting his neck and collarbone, the pocket watch in his left hand. He stares almost impassively at it.]

Y/N: [loudly] Hobi.

[Hoseok does not respond]

Y/N: [louder] Hoseok, what the fuck are you doing?

[Hoseok does not respond]

Y/N: [mutters quietly] Jesus Christ.

[The camera tilts and wobbles, tipping down for a moment as Y/N bends to pick something up. A shoe is thrown in frame and lands on the bed right next to Hoseok. Hoseok lifts his head, dropping the watch. He smiles]

H: Want breakfast, baby?

Y/N: [long pause; quiet breathing] Uh huh.

[video ends]

~~~~

#188

Duration: 3:21

[Exterior. Mid-Day. Extreme long shot of Hoseok as he stands in front of a wooden sign that says Boxer's Lake. From the pockets of his leather jacket he pulls the pocket watch]

H: [looking over his shoulder; calls] You sure this is a good idea.

Y/N: [loudly; voice garbled by wind into microphone] You should have seen yourself, Hobi. It's gotta be the watch and I don’t want to go back there to return it.

[Hoseok reels back and throws the watch into the lake. He stares after it, shoulders drooped and jaw tense]

[Cut. Interior of a car. Hoseok is driving. Y/N points the camera at his face.]

Y/N: How do you feel?

H: Like my soul has been ripped from my chest.

[Pauses. Looks at Y/N]

H: [bursts into laughter] Chill out, baby. I feel fine. 

Y/N: [laughs weakly]

[Cut. Interior. Hoseok’s kitchen. Y/N films as Hoseok brews tea.]

H: You want any, love?

Y/N: Nah, water is fine.

H: [looks up at camera] Are you going to film everything? 

Y/N: We have an interested audience. Need to keep them satisfied. And besides, I’m only here for a week. I want to remember everything with you.

H: [begins to pull off shirt, suggestively wiggling his eyebrows.]

Y/N: [laughter] Don’t start with that!

H: [straightens and flattens shirt] You said satisfied! Y/N: [still laughing] Yeah, well, that’s just for me and I’d like to keep it that way.

[Hoseok bites his lip, happy, and walks to a cabinet to the left. He makes to open it, but his attention is brought to something on the counter beneath it. He pauses. His hand slowly drops from the knob of the cabinet. The colour drains from his face]

Y/N: What?

[Hoseok brings his eyes to the camera, lips parted. He is visibly disturbed. He lifts his right hand. He holds up the pocket watch. Y/N’s breath becomes heavy and labored]

H: [voice small] What the fuck.

[Camera shuts off]

~~~

#189

Duration: 8:32

[Interior. Mid-Day. Hoseok’s car, again. Y/N holds the camera as Hoseok drives, lens pointed out the windshield] 

Y/N: Slow down, Hobi.

H: [voice hollow] No. The fucking watch is ticking…and existing. How is any of what just happened possible?

Y/N: I don't know, I don't know.

H: This is fucking twisted.

Y/N: What are you going to do?

H: Leave it in a field? Pawn it off? Whatever, as long as it's far away from me.

Y/N: Why not burn it?

H: Any fire I make wouldn't get the metal hot enough.

Y/N: Just don't get reckless. [Pleading] Please, baby?

[Cut. Interior. A Pawnshop. The camera pans along a shelf. Various objects come into focus. A door opens and an older man comes into view from the back of the store. To the left of the frame, Hoseok walks over and introduces himself]

H: Hi. Uhm, I'm Hoseok. I need to sell a pocket watch?

[The store clerk looks from Hoseok to Y/N]

Clerk: Get your mate to turn the camera off and then we can do business. 

[Cut. Interior. Hoseok’s car. Y/N has rested the camera on the dashboard, pointed at the passing scenery]

H: WOOOO! £650 for a shitty old watch!!

Y/N: I think the fact that it was still working was what sold him.

H: Who knows how long it will work for. We practically robbed him.

Y/N: You practically robbed him. I almost got thrown out for having a camera.

H: Eh. He was probably drunk from boredom. I would be, too, if I had to sit in silence eight hours a day. 

[Cut. Interior. Night. Hoseok’s kitchen. Hoseok presses play on his answering machine as he takes off his coat. Y/N sits at a chair at the kitchen table and zooms in on a Sainsbury's frozen dinner.]

Y/N: Mmmmmm.

[In the background, a voice is heard on the answering machine.]

Recorded Voice: Mr. Jung. It's Geoff. You sold me a watch not two hours ago. I’d like to make it clear I don't appreciate being fucked with. [Y/N brings the camera around, landing on Hoseok who is paused at his refrigerator staring at the machine, frowning.] I get enough shit in my town, and I certainly don't need non-locals breezing through and pulling pranks. I'm giving you twenty-four hours to return the watch or my money to the store. If you don't, I'm calling the cops and we can settle this with legal action. [Machine beeps]

[Hoseok remains paused at the refrigerator - frozen. He begins to visibly tense and Y/N gets up from the kitchen table. She approaches him slowly, before Hoseok slams the refrigerator door shut and rushes into the living room]

Y/N: [shouts] Hoseok!

H: [yells] Where the fuck is it? WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU WANT WITH ME?

[Y/N enters the living room and turns right. Hoseok is standing in front of his mantle, hitting his chest with the flat of his palms. He stares at the ceiling and screams]

H: [still yelling] YOU CAN HAVE YOUR FUCKING WATCH BACK, I DON'T WANT IT.

Y/N: [yelling over Hoseok] HOSEOK, THERE IS NO ONE ELSE HERE.

H: [looks at Y/N] Of course there is! How else would any of this be happening? [Turns abruptly and heads down the hallway. He disappears into his room.

Y/N: Fuck’s sake. 

[Y/N follows and enters Hoseok’s room. Hoseok is pulling books out of shelves. He abandons that project and quickly goes to his bed, where he up-turns his mattress]

H: [yelling again] WHERE IS IT, HUH?

Y/N: Hoseok, calm the hell down!

[Hoseok turns and rushes past Y/N. Y/N follows]

Y/N: Hoseok, ripping up the house isn't going to solve anything!

H: It's not in my room, it's not in the kitchen. It makes itself known, right? It wants to fucking be seen. The goddamn ATTENTION WHORE.

Y/N: It's an inanimate object, Hoseok, stop!

[Hoseok stomps into the kitchen and picks up his jacket. He pauses for a moment, softening, and reaches into a pocket. He pulls out the watch]

H: [staring at the watch] Something…someone…whatever…wants me to have this. I don't. Fucking. Want it.

[**In the recorded footage, a voice is heard. It clearly says “But you took it.” Neither Y/N nor Hoseok reacts to it and neither has spoken. This voice was pointed out by YouTube user Sarkozam12**]

[camera turns off]

~~~

#190

Duration: 8:00

[Interior. Night. The couches and chairs have been removed from Hoseok’s living room. Two pillows are placed on the ground, side by side, beneath the coffee table where a ouija board as been set up. The scene is lit by numerous candles along the floor and mantle. Fingers over the microphone cause muffled noises and garbled sounds. Hoseok enters from frame right. He sits, in jeans a tee shirt, on one of the pillows. He takes a swig of cider before setting it next to him. He looks slightly above the camera.]

Y/N: [off camera] This is a terrible idea, Hobi.

H: [solemn] Is the camera set up?

Y/N: [pauses, sighs] Yeah, it's just about.done tightening the tripod.

H: Good.

[Y/N enters from the bottom of frame left. It's a long shot of the living room. Y/N sits next to Hoseok. They look at each other briefly. Hoseok draws his eyes away and onto the Oujia board. Y/N’s brow furrows, and she reaches to twine her fingers with Hoseok’s. The contact has him return his gaze to hers, smiling before he leans in and kisses her deeply. Pulling back, he kisses her knuckles three times. Hoseok’s expression hardens]

H: [quietly] I love you.

Y/N: [smiling; quietly] I’m still not used to you saying that. [pauses] I love you, too.

H: [inhaling deeply] Let's do this.

[Y/N pauses. Hoseok looks at her, concerned.]

H: Don't tell me you're quitting on this.

Y/N: [looks at the ground] Ouija boards are scary, serious shit, Hoseok. I don't think we should fuck around with this. We’ve already fucked up so much shit.

H: [shaking his head] I fucked up. And I just don’t know what other choice I have.

[Y/N pauses briefly, hesitating before leaning in to kiss him once more. They whisper to one another as they break apart, kissing for a few more seconds before separating fully. Pulling her hand from his, she sighs and places both hands on the planchette. Hoseok follows suit and does the same]

H: [uncomfortable] What do I say?

Y/N: [loudly] Is there anyone here with us?

[They remain quiet and wait. The planchette does not move.]

H: What if we contact Zozo? That's the opposite of what I want.

Y/N: [giggling, though her sense of amusement is unconvicing] Don't be stupid. 

[Both are silenced by the planchette which has started to move in swirls across the board.]

H: Is that you?

Y/N: No, I'm barely touching this.

H: [shaking his head] It's not me.

[The planchette stops on the word 'Bye']

H: [pauses] Well, that's sinister.

[The video warps into pixels and corrects itself. Three candles have been blown out. Y/N is panicked]

Y/N: What the fuck did that?

H: [loudly] What is your name?

[The planchette moves, quickly. Y/N says the letters it stops on.]

Y/N: L…A…I…R…R…E. D…D…D…E…A…T…H.

H: Lairreedddeath? The hell?

Y/N: I'm busy focusing on the part that - [The video warps. the masked figure from #186 appears behind Hoseok, getting closer after each pixel correction. A white hand with sharp nails reaches for his neck. It disappears] in the fire?

[The Marimba ringtone of an iPhone goes off]

H: Shit. That's mine.

Y/N: Leave it.

[The planchette spins out of control and falls from the table onto the floor. All the candles are blown out at the same time, though there is no wind to disrupt the atmosphere. The camera shifts to night vision. Both draw their attention to the bright light from the camera]

Y/N: Does your camera shift modes automatically?

H: No, what -

[A loud thud is heard, the sound of a door slamming open to the left, its metal knob hitting the wall. The door to what is considered a broom closet has flung open, but its interior is black and occasionally blurred by pixelated static. Y/N turns to look at the noise, but Hoseok disappears from view. We hear him scream]

Y/N: Hoseok?!? [Y/N searches frantically for where the sound is coming from. She turns her attention back to the door, eyes wide in alarm.] Hoseok? 

[Y/N gets up and approaches the closet but the door slams shut. The lights of the house come on. Y/N opens the door to the closet. It is just a closet. The tripod falls over. The screen goes blue and flashes NO BATTERY]

~~~

Given the found footage nature of the editing and the allusion by Hoseok that Y/N was proficient in film editing, at least once mentioning the capability of using special effects in post production, many of the initial viewers of #186-190 believed the story of Hoseok’s disappearance was a clever hoax. While this report remains unbiased, it is important to point out several facts. 

Firstly, it is true that Jung Hoseok went missing from his shared home April 25, 2010. The phone call received on his mobile during #190 was from his mother, mentioned in Y/F/N Y/L/N’s police report, who had not seen her son since April 11, 2010. Secondly, the pocket watch, and the clothing in which Hoseok disappeared in, have never been found. Until August 2011, the footage captured during #190 depicted the last known whereabouts of Jung Hoseok. 

When Y/N deactivated her account, #184-190 was removed from YouTube in accordance with YouTube’s privacy policies, however not before user TwerK had downloaded the video to a flash drive. In June of 2010, the video was uploaded to Kim Taehyung’s channel, with reasons citing the urgency for fans and interested parties to continue to study the video - i.e in search of clues or proof of a hoax. It is worth noting that while there is a well documented friendship and romantic relationship between Euripet3s1 and theJungProject (ie: both were subscribers to each other's channels, the earliest comments on each party's videos date back to 2008, Euripet3s1 tagged theJungProject in a video called Top 10 Films of 2009, etc) TwerK did not subscribe to either channel, nor has he confessed to knowing either personally. 

It is because of these reasons that the footage in Help Explain This is, in a word, astounding. The film itself was uploaded with a description consisting of a personal plea from Taehyung to help explain what he had caught. Once the video was live, Taehyung experienced a brief period of notoriety on the internet, while simultaneously going under fire by those close to Hoseok who called his video 'tactless and offensive.' 

It is also worth noting that Y/N has become reclusive since these events and has not been available for comment since late 2010, on advice from her therapist.

~~

Help Explain This

Duration: 4:03

[Interior. Mid-Day. Footsteps thud up the stairs of Borley Rectory. The camera is pointed at the landing, but the painting is gone. The person arrives at the landing and he speaks. He is Korean.]

T: Okay. So. Kim Taehyung here. I’m sorry in advance for any English mistakes, but a few subscribers wanted me to visit the rectory while I am here on vacation. Yes, yes, I know it's weird that my YouTube channel only has one video on it, but some of you on Reddit convinced me to make this.  Here we are [Camera pans right to left, light pours in from holes in the ceiling. The home appears to be empty.]. Exact same spot where Euripet3s1 stood. As you can see there is no painting on the wall. Ehm.

[He turns to his left and enters the bedroom, panning the camera right to left as Y/N had done. A naked figure stands in the back right corner of the bedroom, his back to the camera, facing the wall]

T: Again, the room is completely empty. The walls are badly burned. I know you all want to believe this was a hoax, but there's no way these two had the budget. You can't even get up the stairs easily without worrying about falling through.

[He turns left, zooming to an extreme long shot. The right side of the room out of frame.] 

T: This is where theJungProject found the pocket watch. No chest of drawers here. [Camera pans down, showing his feet] You can see the boards of the floor are burned. I'm too afraid to even put weight there. [He presses his foot to the floor, retracting it immediately.]

[Raising the camera, he turns the camera back to right, slightly, showing the whole of the room. The figure from the corner has turned around and is standing naked in a full body shot. The camera pixelates. The figure is now close to the lens, able to be viewed from the middle of the waist up. His mouth and eyes are wide open, but blackened as though holes. The figure is clearly Jung Hoseok.]

T: That's it, then. Sorry the video was so lame.

[He turns and leaves the room. The camera does one last pan from the landing back to the room. The foyer below is empty. The room he had just exited is empty]

Fin.

Author’s Note #2: The locations in this story - Borley Rectory, Boxer's Lake, Liverpool Street Station, Suffolk, and Sudbury - are all real places. Borley Rectory was known as 'the most haunted house in England' and it did get severely burned in 1939. There is actually a woman who haunted the building named Marie Lairre. 

[tellthestoryofmybrokendreams]

Shadow

Fandom: Avatar: the Last Airbender

Pairing: Zuko/Katara

Status: Complete

Words: 1,860

AO3 Link

Previous Next

Desc: Sometimes Zuko just needs to be reminded that he’s loved, and won’t be abandoned again. Luckily, he has Katara, who’s made it her mission to do just that.

Or, married Katara and Zuko being supportive and loving.

A/N: Salutations my darling readers, and welcome back to 25ish installments of Zutara cuteness! Remember that these are in track order, not chronological order, and that I am an absolute slut for Zutara. Enjoy!

Katara winces as she hears her husband slip back beneath the covers. Her eyes are still closed as he attempts to settle back into bed, but she’s been awake as long as he has.

Earlier, she guessed by a half an hour based on the movement of the moon, he’d shot up from his sleep whimpering and panting heavily, waking her up. He’d sat there for a few moments and gently run his fingers through her hair, then slipped out into their room and paced, muttering fiercely and repeatedly conjuring large balls of fire just to snuff them out.

Now, as he turns and wriggles around trying to get comfortable, she lets out a tired whine and rolls over. Taking care to still appear to be asleep, she tosses an arm around his bare torso and lays her head right over his heart, forcing him to settle back into bed. He snorts, and she can hear the soft smile he now wears, before wrapping his arms around her and pulling her so she’s almost on top of him.

“It’s almost like how a child holds a stuffed toy,” she thinks, until she feels him brush over the hem of her nightgown, which happens to be only a breath away from where her ass starts to curve.

“This one’s my favorite,” she hears him mumble, and she has to suppress a smirk. She knows.

His breathing evens out, and she falls back asleep to her favorite lullaby: the steady sound of him.

Usually her nighttime subterfuge is enough to counteract his nightmares, but she notices the glassy look in his eyes as she spreads moon peach preserve on her pastry the next morning.

“You’re nothing like your father my love,” she assures as she sets down her knife, and then takes a bite of her breakfast.

Zuko chokes on his tea, but tries to cover it, “What?” he rasps, clearly holding back a cough.

“You had another nightmare last night didn’t you,” she phrases it as a question, but they both know what she’s really questioning is if he was going to try to lie.

“Yes,” he sighs, “I was sitting in the Throne Room just like he used to, and Aang was trying to get me to do something, I don’t remember what, but all I could see was the Wall of Flames getting bigger and then you were there, and you were pregnant, and you said you should have known I’d be just like my predecessors. Then you-you turned and left, but you just looked so much like my mother did when she left and I knew that I’d done something to you, I’d hurt you.”

Katara reaches her hand across the table and takes his, smiling a sad smile as she does so. He looks up at her and smiles back, weakly, giving her hand a squeeze.

“That would never happen,” she declares, “Aang would never ask you something formally, he’d wait for you two to be hanging out as friends so you forget you’re the Fire Lord.”

He laughs, and she continues, relieved it’s working. “I don’t know about the Wall of Flames, but even when you’re in the Throne Room I’ve never seen it get bigger than a comfortable hearth fire. And ultimately, the entire thing comes apart because you’d never hurt me. Even all those times we tried to kill each other, you never hurt me. I mean, that was more because I kicked your ass, but the point still stands. And even if you had, you wouldn’t see me insulting and leaving you, Sokka would have already taken you out with his boomerang and had Toph trap you in quicksand, and then I’d kill you. Overall, two out of ten, tell your subconscious to do better.”

Zuko shrugs with a grin, and tells her he’ll pass along the message. But she can tell something is still bothering him. Rising from the table, she walks over to him and caresses his cheek. He takes a hold of the hand in question and presses a kiss to her palm. Closing his eyes, he takes a few deep breaths. The candles lighting their chamber reflect them

“I’m terrified of losing you,” he admits, and she’s a little surprised. She knew that, of course, and she was scared of losing him as well. But he’d never really seemed scared of losing her by his own fault. The amount of nobles and important military figures who’d been jailed for conspiring to put Azula on the Throne, or kill their non-traditional Fire Lady, was something they were well aware of, and Katara knew Zuko was scared of her death at their hands. She’d always assumed that he’d known there was just about no other way to get rid of her.

“Zuko,” she whispers, and he looks into her eyes with tears in his own, “there is nothing you could ever do to make me stop loving you. Even if you lost me, which you never will, even if I had to leave you, which I never will, I would still love you. Even if I die tomorrow and you have to go on I will still be there. I will never leave you.”

He chokes out a sob and pulls her close, scooping her up and plopping her in his lap. Even as he continues to cry, even as tears fall from her own eyes, she cradles his face in her hands and gently runs her fingers through his hair. They stay there all morning; a simple look from her tells all to the servant who’s come to fetch them for a meeting that they will not be attending. Her head now rests in his shoulder, and his is partially buried in the loose hair she hasn’t yet pulled back.

Finally, Katara wiggles and pokes at his stomach, “Zuko.”

“Hmm?”

“Zuko, you’re gonna have to let go of me.”

“Why?”

“I have to pee.”

“No.”

“No? No you won’t let go?” she laughs in disbelief.

He shakes his head into her curls, “Nope. You don’t have to pee.”

“Tell that to my bladder.”

“Katara aren’t you a master waterbender? Couldn’t you like bend it-”

“Zuko, my love, that’s disgusting. Also, do not doubt that I had that conversation with Sokka multiple times while we were traveling. The answer is not something I am willing to find out.”

He sighs and loosens his hug, pressing a kiss to her lips before standing up and stretching. She chuckles and heads off to relieve herself, shaking out her legs as she walks.

Heading to bed early that night, she is far too tired to bother with a proper nightdress. She simply falls into their bed naked and slips under the covers. Zuko had let her know that he was going to be making up for the time he’d missed that morning and she shouldn’t wait for him. Usually she would, but today she’d had to don one of her heaviest Fire Lady outfits and parade herself around the city to rub elbows and kiss babies. The nation was getting restless without an heir, and most of the people who lived in the city already disapproved of having a foreigner as a Fire Lady, let alone a waterbender. They’d all wanted their daughters to marry them into the Palace. It was always a bit jarring to see the blatant resentment of her position in Caldera since the rest of the Fire Nation loved her, especially after hearing about her adventures as the Painted Lady.

She falls asleep almost instantly, face buried in Zuko’s pillow so she can still smell him like usual, but is awoken at midnight by her husband closing the door behind him. Katara is a heavy sleeper, but she and Zuko had always been so attuned to each other that it was impossible to sleep when the other was nearby and restless.

He removes his robes as she had, and pulls on a loose pair of sleep pants. Pulling back the covers to slide in next to her, he sees her and stops dead, sucking in a breath. She grins and rolls slightly to look directly at him.

“Hey hot stuff,” she croons, and immediately falls into a giggle fit as soon as she hears herself. Calming down, she takes a deep breath and looks up at Zuko.

He snorts and shakes his head, raising an eyebrow as he flicks his eyes over her naked body again. She sighs and rolls her eyes, pretending to cross her arms over her breasts and turn away until a warm hand shoots out and grabs her shoulder to hold her in place. “Not so fast,” he growls, and she grins at him through hooded eyes.

“What’re you gonna do about it?”

He’s on top of her instantly and she sighs as he kisses down her neck and shoulders, her energy renewed as a fire blooms in her belly and spreads through her body.

Nightmares continue, for both of them. Katara can’t even count how many times she’s shot up in bed choking on her tears and needed Zuko to light a few of the torches in their bedchamber and breathe in her ear, just so the vision of her not being able to save him from Azula will leave her mind. Zuko’s own dreams are haunted by his old life, and she knows he’s glad she saw the worst of him before the best.

But they love each other. They are yin and yang, fire and water, spark and shadow, and she would not have it any other way.

When she feels the blood pulsing in the veins of those around her on full moons, he listens to her fears of being a monster. He holds her and traces patterns into her skin, tells her everything he loves about her. He tells her how the first time he saw her bloodbend he thought it was one of the hottest things he��d ever seen. When he is flooded with guilt at the thought of all his past wrongdoings, she admits that when he’d caught her arms, tied her to a tree, and taunted her, she had been sure he’d used his firebending to set a fire in her core and make her knees shake with anger and arousal. She braids his hair in Water Tribe fashion, smiling as he looks in the mirror and chuckles.

She remembers all those times Aang had looked at them with jealousy, or when Mai had pulled her aside and reminded her how hard being the Fire Lady would be for a girl of the Southern Water Tribe. She thinks of the dirty looks she’d gotten as she’d held his hand throughout his coronation, of angry rich Fire Nation girls her age calling her dirty and suggesting she clean the “filth” off her skin.

But then and now, always and forever, they were at each other’s sides. They were soulmates, she was sure of it. They loved each other at their lowest and brought each other to their highest, and really, there was no sort of relationship that was better.

[florbelles]

❄️🔪🍂 for Lyra! Had to go ahead and get the sad one out of the way first, because I've come to accept that it is simply part of the Lyra experience whenever I ask these things. (The date is June 17, 2020 and I still have not recovered from "yes, darling, I know he's dead, do you think that makes me love him less?")

thank you lovely 💕 when i said i’d answer this in five to six business days i was fully joking but i’m pretty sure it has now in fact been five to six business days. embarrassing

❄️ What makes your OC sad, so sad that they can’t help but cry all day? How do they cheer themself up? Does their sadness upset any of their loved ones too?

we’re gonna subvert expectations, no dead husbands shall appear in this answer! 💕 

lyra would tell you it's cheap whiskey and gas station sushi and hope county street style, but honestly, she just desperately wants to be liked and loved and accepted, so rejection in any form -- from anyone, even those sinners and nonbelievers, even her sworn enemies -- wounds her. (she’s really out here at 3am like john? john are you up? because i don't think hurk sr likes me, he was extremely rude today while i was threatening him in his home)

(the rest is going under a cut because tolstoy has nothing on me. tw for references to lyra typical self-destructive behavior, drug, sex, alcohol, serial murder mentions)

having said that, it doesn't normally affect her -- she doesn't care or think enough of most people for it to have a lasting impact, and it just increases animosity and disdain where it already existed. when it is someone she cares about, though, or comes from someone who’s meant to care about her, it's emotionally devastating.

the most extreme instance came in the form of her parents disinheriting her when she was 16 years old. it was a formality more than anything else -- she was nearly 17, she’d run off the year before and cut off all contact -- and in many ways she’d expected or even attempted to deliberately provoke it, since it would force them to acknowledge what she’d always known, that they didn't see, know, or care about her. it was impossible for them to love her; her father was a narcissist who prized her insofar as he could project onto her as a version of himself, and her mother was so far gone on designer drugs she was apathetic to nearly everything else, her unwanted trophy daughter most of all.

still, receiving confirmation in the form of a notice that caught up to her while she was crashing at one of her favored ex girlfriends' family home -- that they went to that effort just to ensure she knew they no longer recognized her as their daughter -- gutted her. later she’d say that it was what she’d wanted, that they were already dead to her, and thank fucking christ she wasn't a member of that sick miserable family any longer. in actuality, she locked herself in the guest bedroom, curled into herself on the floor, and cried for three days straight.

and then she stopped.

she doesn't get cheered up, honestly, she just has to go through straight through it. if there's an action she can take or vengeance she can exact somehow, she’s eventually able to drag herself out of the comatose state she goes into when she’s grieving; lyra feels everything very deeply, so she’s physically crippled by emotional pain in a way that she never is by external injuries. (break her leg and she’ll drag it behind her, but if her heart’s broken, she won't walk for a week.) because of that, she absolutely tries to fight emotional pain with physical pain -- she doesn't self-harm in a direct way, but she does seek out risky or destructive behaviors (trysts in back alleys with strangers, binge drinking, drug use, getting in fights, reckless driving) until she finds somewhere else to channel that energy. god help anyone who's in her way when she does.

🔪 Has your OC ever killed someone? Ever had to defend themselves against violence? How did this make them feel? Or, alternatively, has your OC ever attacked someone? Seen someone die?

no,  lyra has never killed anyone in her life, why???

she killed seven men before she came to hope county. the first was a known predator at the strip club where she worked when she was 18 -- she propositioned him and then stuck a knife in his throat.

she fully believed that she was acting in defense in all seven instances, albeit not necessarily her own. each of the men she killed were especially dangerous or vile predators/abusers/otherwise corrupt and exploitative who were considered untouchable -- to the law, maybe, but not to her. (she never killed the relatively harmless philanderers who made up most of her targets; she just seduced, robbed and humiliated them).

her last kill before she flees to montana -- the reason she flees to montana, in fact -- is the man in idaho, and it’s a huge fucking mistake, one that almost gets her caught. it’s messy and impulsive and she does it because she’s shaken up and triggered af from her recent vegas trip. she’s fully spiraling. like this can't be it, this can't be all there is, this can't be all i am, this can't be all that's left for me, and part of her Wants to get caught on a subliminal level; some part of her Wants to die just to have an end. she’s tired. she’s jaded. she was at that gas station where she found him in the first place buying two bottles of tequila, but then she could just Feel the way he watched her and kind of hovered over her and she just. left the bottles on the counter and followed him out the door and stalked him for deadass fifty miles until he finally pulled off at a truck stop.

that and her first kill mirror each other in that they weren't calculated and she did it in a Rage.  she was purely driven by anger and hatred and adrenaline, she was shaking, her body just completely Flooded itself and so honestly? she’s a little hysterical about it -- both times she started to sob at first and then she just. laughed, she couldn't stop laughing, and that’s the only time she’s truly afraid of herself. usually she doesn't feel anything but relief and vindication when she kills; she’s doing it for a reason and she believes she’s justified so she doesn't feel any haunting guilt. she’s like this is what i am, this is what i can do, this is how i can be good even though everyone has always told me i was born bad -- maybe i was but maybe i can use that, maybe i can do what others can't

obviously in the holy war of 2018 she kills Hundreds of people, both heretics and defecting (or potentially defecting) peggies. she doesn't feel remorse about any of that tbh, she never will. she was protecting her family, it's not a question to her, it's not something she has to think about

🍂 What are their opinions on the different seasons? Which one do they hate and which one do they love and why?

lyra loves the summer best. she always has. as a girl,  summers were when she was home and could at least pretend her family wanted her, and if nothing else, she could go run free and become a menace on the island. she first ran away in the summer, she found her home in hope county in the summer, she fell in love in the summer.

(also homegirl's wardrobe is like. entirely sheer dresses with high slits and bare arms and plunging necklines she floats through life in silk and tulle and lace and strappy stilettos and she’s happiest in the sun out lying in a meadow or wading through the river or leaning out the side of her car with the windows and/or top down do you really think this bitch thrives in the colder months)

she’s a daughter of spring, she was born mid-march, and she does love it -- she’s a flower hoe, she likes watching the world come back to life and the smell of blossoms in the breeze and the crisp air in the mornings

same with fall, she loves her bonfires and hot coffee and her furs and her cider. she got married in the fall, the best months of her life were in the fall. she lost her heart in the fall. she dies in the fall.

winter can go fuck itself

i jest she thinks the snow is pretty aesthetically and she likes holiday events & attire & traditions and mulled wine and chestnut praline lattes and her furs are lovely and expensive and she might as well break them out, but the cold is Not her friend and neither is the snow. like. does a bitch look like she shovels. do you think she owns snow boots, do you think she owns thermal clothing,  no she does Not so overall winter gets like a 2/10