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absolutepokemontrash · 3 years ago

Note

The undatables as uncles need more love, so... What if L!MC and the rest of the children just go to the castle or purgatory Hall for a few days because the Bros got tired or just need a day of rest. Idk this makes no sense

Yes, more uncle shennaniganery!

A Day at the Demon Lord’s Castle

Masterlist

It was Demon-Flu season, and no demon in the House of Lamentation was spared from its sniffly wrath. It started with Belphegor waking up and sneezing right next to Beel, and it was all downhill from there.

Notice how I said “demon”, the dear little Half-Demons were all fine thanks to the efforts of M!MC who for some reason had bought a bunch of plague doctor masks the week prior.

“Why... why did you buy these?” L!MC asked, their voice muffled by the badly fitting mask.

“I saw em’ in a store window and I decided I wanted them.”

Three out of four of the Brat Brigade (plus the cat) were on their way to the Demon Lord’s castle to stay until the house’s little epidemic passed. Lord Diavolo had oh so graciously asked (begged) to be allowed to host the kids for a while.

What could go wrong?

Many things could go wrong.

For one, the first thing A!MC saw when they first arrived, was a rat. Not one of the gross scary ones, but one of the absolutely adorable ones that turns you into the ‘gently holds’ meme.

“I’m going to call you Templeton!” “*squeak*” “Yay!”

Barbatos of course came to greet the guests, and explained that they have a little... issue with rats at that moment. Butler-dad assured them it wouldn’t be a problem, just if the children saw any of the vermin running around to tell him and he’d dispose of them.

Templeton the rat was promptly hidden in one of A!MC’s pockets.

The Purgatory Hall crew was there as well, apparently Solomon decided to make brunch and Purgatory Hall’s kitchen exploded.

Lord Diavolo finally makes his entrance and declares that everyone should unpack and relax, his gorgeous/terrifying castle was their gorgeous/terrifying castle.

“So,” L!MC rested their head on their hand and rotated the knight in their free hand as they stared half vacantly at the chess board. “Did you take care of the snake in the labyrinth, Dia?”

Diavolo lit up when he heard his seldom used nickname. “Well, Henry 1.0 isn’t exactly bothering anyone down there at the moment, and I don’t think Levi is equipped to deal with a fifty foot long untamed snake.”

L!MC smirked and placed their knight down. “Yeah, at least not right now.”

The moment L!MC removed their hand from the knight, Diavolo moved his bishop and took their queen. Shit.

“Aw man...” L!MC mumbled, after a cursory look at the board, the poor thing realized that they had been screwed for the last five turns and Diavolo was just prolonging the match.

“Don’t feel too bad, L!MC.” Diavolo gave them a pat on the head. “Lucifer can’t beat me in chess either.”

“Hmph.” They wouldn’t admit it but... that did make them feel a little better.

“That reminds me, I have a favour to ask of you.” L!MC almost outwardly drooped at the mention of... ugh... a task. “Do you mind reviewing some dad-jokes with me to make sure they are suitably dad-like?”

“...what?” Quickly remembering they were in the presence of honest to God (poor choice of words... uh... Grandfather?) royalty, L!MC straightened their posture and tried their best to look respectfully curious instead of completely and utterly confused. “Pardon?”

“M!MC and several others have said I have ‘dad vibes’, so I’m leaning into it!” Diavolo smiled so brightly if L!MC hadn’t been the child of the Morning Star they may have been blinded. “My father wasn’t one for jokes, so I’d like to run these by you before I say them to others.”

Suppressing a snort of laughter, L!MC nodded. “Go for it, I’m all ears.”

Diavolo pulled out quite the long list and began to read out loud... L!MC quickly realized that this may take longer than expected. “Okay, to begin: I’m afraid for the calendar, it’s days are numbered.”

“Oh not-that-good-Lord...” L!MC muttered under their breath.

The dad jokes continued, some were funny, some were absolutely awful, some sounded like they were made for children in the Victorian era... overall, it was a good- holy shit that took over two hours...

“Finally,” Diavolo squinted at the last joke. “I went to the liquor store and they asked for my ID, while I fumbled for my wallet, my Blockbuster card fell out, the cashier said ‘nevermind’.”

L!MC furrowed their brows. “What’s a Blockbuster?”

“That was what I was hoping you’d explain to me... is it a dad requirement to get a card for that establishment..?”

“Mmmm...” L!MC pursed their lips. “Probably not. I mean, Lucifer doesn’t have one.”

“That’s true...” Diavolo looked at the clock, then stood up and began to shoo L!MC out the door. “Look at me, taking up all your time that you should be spending with your friends. Thank you for your help, L!MC, now don’t let me keep you any longer!”

Giggling slightly, L!MC shot a wave over their shoulder as they left the room. “Bye dad! See you later!”

They were half way down the hallway when they realized their verbal slip-up.

“Oh.” L!MC’s face burned with embarrassment. “Shit.”

Dad-volo was totally delighted and very cool about it, don’t worry.

M!MC and Bean the cat were hanging out with the angels in the very pretty royal gardens when that mess was going down.

Luke was being absolutely adorable and was snuggling Bean while he and Simeon looked at the pretty plants.

In traditional M!MC fashion, they were engaging in an average game of ‘lightly tease the chihuahua’.

“It’s just... you’re so small.” M!MC took the opportunity to rest their arm on Luke’s head as he stopped to observe a colour changing flower bush. “How many years have you been this height? 100? 200?”

M!MC had taken the news that Luke was older than them in stride, finding new opportunities to make the little angel do his adorable angy face. They were obviously succeeding in their jerkwad-endeavours as Luke pushed their arm off and fixed his now smushed hat.

“You be quiet! I’m perfectly average height for an angel my age.” Luke huffed, petting the cat, who hissed at M!MC. The stupid cat absolutely hated them for some reason, it brought L!MC never ending joy to bring the cat into their shared room and watch it hiss and swipe at them. L!MC should really show some more respect for their older cousin!

“Are angels normally the size of a fifth grader?” M!MC snickered. “Is Simeon considered a freak for his height?”

“No, M!MC, I am not.” Simeon chuckled. “Rest assured, Luke will grow.”

“Yeah! And I’m sure I’ll be taller than you!” Luke added.

M!MC smirked deviously and pinched Luke’s cheek. “Well, I’ll have to take advantage of your smallness and baby face while I still can!”

“Hey! Stop that!” Luke tried to swat their hands away, but M!MC had inherited their father’s reflexes and his penchant for being a little shit every once and a while, so Luke’s swatting only resulted in more pinches.

“Never!” M!MC teased. “Surrender to your smallness!”

“No!”

Luke took off deeper into the garden, surprisingly quickly considering he was holding a cat that was hellbent on clawing M!MC’s eyes out. M!MC laughed and gave chase.

“Luuuuuuuke! Come back! I promise I’ll be nice!” M!MC lied right through their teeth like the little heathen they were, as they ran down the path they noticed that they couldn’t see Luke up ahead anymore, nor could they hear him yelling for Simeon to make them quit their teasing.

“Heheh...” M!MC wheezed as they stopped to catch their breath. “Luke c’mon, don’t be a baby. It’s real immature to hide like that!”

There was no response, which made M!MC just a little nervous, just a smidge. The plants had changed from pretty flowers and gorgeous trees to a much darker clump of vines and twisting branches. It all seemed to be the same plant, M!MC noted as they scanned the area for any sign of Luke and the cat, or Simeon for that matter.

“Luke? Bean? Come on! Haul your asses over here, this isn’t funny any-” M!MC paused and looked down as something coiled around their left leg. “-more?”

The vine tightened and yanked them backwards, M!MC fell right to the ground and clawed at the path to stop them getting pulled into the brush. Another vine wrapped around their right leg, any resistance that digging their nails into the ground was nullified as both vines yanked M!MC into the bushes.

Well, this was a nightmare of epic proportions. The vines continued to wrap around the helpless half demon until they were completely unable to move. As M!MC looked around frantically, they made eye contact with an all too familiar pair of blue eyes. Ah! There was Luke!

“Mmmph!” Only Luke’s eyes were visible, but the eyes are the gateway to the soul or whatever, and M!MC took an educated guess and decided that Luke’s soul wasn’t too happy with them.

“Mmth! Mmth!” M!MC tried to speak, but their mouth was covered by the vines. The two would have to communicate with their eyes only.

‘This is your fault!’

‘How the fuck is this MY fault?’

‘If you hadn’t teased me this never would have happened!’

‘Grow thicker skin, you chihuahua!’

‘Fuck you!’

Listen, Luke probably wasn’t capable of trying to communicate a swear word, but it was incredibly funny for M!MC to think about.

“M!MC? Luke?” Simeon stepped into their limited field of vision. “Where are you two? This plant is carnivorous.”

Oh... lovely. That was good to know.

“Mmemph!”

“MFTH!” Luke and M!MC tried to call out to Simeon, only for the vines to wrap around them even tighter. Wow, what a way to go... strangled by a plant... ugh. L!MC would never let them live that down...

“Hm,” Simeon looked down at the vine that was coiling around his leg. “What a bother.”

Quick as lightning, Simeon grabbed the vine and sent a burst of shining gold magic shooting through it. The magic quickly spread to the rest of the plant and the moment the magic slammed into M!MC they nearly passed out from the searing pain that shot through their entire body.

They clamped their eyes shut and clenched their teeth to stop them from rattling as they felt the massive wave of Celestial magic wash over them. It was weirdly warm, like a hug from a friend, but it wasn’t a pleasant sensation, at least not to M!MC.

The plant let out an otherworldly scream as it threw Luke, Bean, and M!MC back onto the path at Simeon’s feet.

Luke picked Bean back up and dusted off his clothes like he didn’t have a care in the world. M!MC lay on the ground, if you listened closely you could hear them sizzle a bit. Nothing like being nearly strangled by a plant and then roasted by holy ‘fuck you’ magic.

“I’m glad you’re both okay,” Simeon pulled Luke into a hug and helped M!MC off the ground. “Did I ah... use to much magic?”

M!MC half-scowled at their saviour and wiped down their outfit. “Yeah. A little too much.”

“My bad,” Simeon ruffled M!MC’s hair. “I hope this serves as a learning experience for you two, Luke, don’t run off like that, and M!MC,”

The half demon nearly jumped in fear and surprise as Simeon swivelled to look at them. The smile on his face was far from comforting. “Don’t tease poor Luke too much, okay?”

“Uh... uh huh.” M!MC quickly nodded.

“Good! Now let’s head back, I think we’ve all had enough of the Royal Gardens.”

As the group returned, they passed a very red in the face L!MC and wondered what exactly went down in the time they were gone.

It’s common knowledge that Barbatos hates rats, it’s also common knowledge that A!MC is the embodiment of a ray of sunshine.

What does this lead to, you may be asking, well...

A!MC and their dear rat Templeton needed to hide from the politely homicidal Barbatos.

“Sh!” A!MC whispered into their pocket, the rat responded with an indignant squeak.

The Demon Lord’s Castle was absolutely massive, and trying to navigate it without a map was akin to wandering around an ancient pyramid filled with death traps. A!MC and their dear companion were wandering the place without a map and trying to hide from a butler that had the power to see into the future. The two fugitives were at a clear disadvantage.

A!MC had managed to stumble into an area that had paintings and statues completely everywhere, it was then they realized they were completely lost.

While quietly perusing the room, A!MC took notice of quite the lovely portrait of a woman. She had long flowing locks of golden hair and the most gorgeous captivating eyes... A!MC nearly shrieked when the woman’s eyes snapped to their’s and her face contorted into a scowl.

“Do I know you?” The woman asked, A!MC gulped and shook their head.

“N-no ma’am, I don’t think we’ve met...” A!MC mumbled before sticking out their hand for a handshake. The painting woman stared down at their outstretched hand, very unimpressed. “I’m A!MC, it’s nice to meet you.”

The half demon offered their cutest smile, their dad had lovingly taken the time to coach them in the art of being so darn tootin’ adorable that everyone would fall over themselves to get A!MC to like them. The moment the woman registered the smile, her scowl returned for a brief moment, then vanished entirely.

“Oh,” The woman smiled sweetly. “I do think I know you, do you mind coming a bit closer so I can see you better?”

Suffering from a complete inability to detect red flags, A!MC happily moved closer.

“Ah, just as I suspected. You look like Asmodeus.”

“You know my dad?” A!MC asked.

“Yes,” The woman’s eyes narrowed. “I know him quite well.”

A!MC was suddenly knocked off balance as a massive gust of wind shoved them closer to the painting. They frantically clawed at the stone ground as Templeton squeaked and squirmed in their pocket.

“Your father is the reason I’m stuck in this painting,” The woman explained coldly as A!MC tried to scramble away. “He escaped the labyrinth twice, but I don’t plan on letting you escape.”

“I-uh- m-muh-my dad’s probably really sorry about whatever he did! There’s no need to be rash!” A!MC stuttered.

“Yeah, no.” The woman huffed. “He had his chance to fix things. I’m getting even.”

“Not right now you’re not.”

A!MC swivelled their head around to see Barbatos calmly holding out a pair of scissors.

“Now Helene, I’d recommend releasing the child before I’m forced to take drastic measures.” Barbatos clicked the scissors together twice, and Helene paled. The wind pushing A!MC towards the painting dissipated and the half demon ran and hid behind the butler.

“Th-thank you...” A!MC mumbled.

“It’s not a problem, A!MC. Now I believe it would be a wise choice to move to another room.”

The two, (plus the hidden rat) ended up in the kitchen. A!MC shifted nervously as Barbatos began prepping lunch.

“Is there something you need to tell me?” Barbatos asked suddenly, A!MC straightened their posture and nodded.

“I um... promise you won’t be mad...” A!MC mumbled.

“I can assure you, I won’t be too upset.”

“I made a friend.” A!MC took Templeton out of their pocket and held him closely to their chest, Barbatos’s calm smile froze on his face. “He’s really sweet, please don’t kill him!”

“...A!MC.” Barbatos began slowly. “I’m not mad... just make sure it doesn’t escape and run rampant... now... please get it out of my kitchen.”

“Yes sir! Thank you sir!” A!MC turned and sprinted to their room.

Ugh... Barbatos, haven’t you ever watched Ratatouille? The rat can cook dammit!

When Luke went in to bake with his second dad he was very confused as to why Barbatos looked like he was having war flashbacks.

Huh... weird right? Anyway...

Good ol’ weird uncle Solomon suggested that after dinner everyone should get together and watch a movie.

L!MC and Solomon suggested that they watch The Conjuring and that idea got immediately shot down.

M!MC brought up that the most “family get-together” movie they could think of was Star Wars.

So they watched A New Hope.

“We could be watching the Conjuring right now.” L!MC murmured as they watched Luke Skywalker fumble his way to Obi Wan Kenobi.

“Yeah.” Solomon whispered back. “You know, I met Ed and Lorraine Warren.”

“Cool,” L!MC smiled. “My ren took me to their house once, when I went in to see all the haunted objects all the demons inside wanted to hang out with me.”

“Huh,” Solomon snickered. “Did they think you were Lucifer?”

“Yep. It was funny, Annabelle’s a pretty big asshole though.”

“I’d be an asshole too if I were stuck in a raggedy Anne doll since the 60s and not allowed to leave.”

“Both of you sh!” M!MC hissed, they threw some popcorn over their shoulder, which L!MC threw right back.

A while into the movie, M!MC elbowed Solomon and pointed at one of the aliens. “That’s you.”

“I’m so hurt…” Solomon pouted.

“And that’s you.” L!MC pointed at a stormtrooper that had just gotten shot with a blaster. M!MC scoffed and rolled their eyes.

“I’m not some dumb stormtrooper.”

“Yeah, you’re a little short for a stormtrooper.”

“HEY!”

“SHHHHHHH!” A!MC and Luke turned and started throwing their own popcorn…

The mess that they all had to vacuum after the movie was much more terrifying than The Conjuring ever could have been.

So, after a few days, Lucifer called to say that everyone was back to normal and the last remnants of the Demon-Flu were gone.

Yay! The kids could go back to their really overcrowded house!

The goodbyes were something to behold.

“Goodbye everyone! Come back sometime soon!” Diavolo waved from the doorway.

“Bye, Lord Diavolo!” L!MC smiled brightly and returned the wave. M!MC snickered and nudged them.

“That’s a pretty cold way to say goodbye to your dad-”

“Shut up…” L!MC growled.

“L!MC, what are they talking about?” Lucifer asked.

“Nothing!”

M!MC looked like they were weighing the pros and cons of surviving the conversation, then shrugged.

“M!MC, no, you have so much to live for!” A!MC pleaded.

“L!MC called Lord Diavolo dad!”

Mammon erupted into hysterical laughter while Asmo giggled and half heartedly patted L!MC on the head. Lucifer was not impressed.

“You know,” L!MC sighed. “I’m moving out. Lord Diavolo can I come live here?”

“L!MC, come back.” Lucifer trailed after his very embarrassed spawn.

A!MC pulled on their dad’s sleeve and cleared their throat.

“Yes sweetie?”

“D-dad, do you have a vehement hatred and or fear of rats?”

“Um-”

“Meet Templeton, he’s adorable and my friend.”

————————

Author’s note, The next part of the main series is coming next week… or this week… idk how long things take.

(Probably this week)

#the next mission is making sure the rat doesn’t get eaten by Detective Toe Beans…#Obey me #Obey me!#Obey me Fic #obey me shall we date #Obey me! headcanons #obey me! shall we date?#obey me headcanons #Obey me MC #Obey me Diavolo #Obey me Luke #Obey me Simeon #Obey me Barbatos #Obey me Solomon #Obey me Lucifer #Obey me Mammon #Obey me Asmodeus

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joysmercer · 3 years ago

Text

someone is on your side, no one is alone

a 3x21 patricia/eddie fic.

It’s weird, this semi-friendship they have right now; she knows exactly how he’s feeling, every thought that’s probably running through his head, but she’s not allowed to acknowledge it.

Read on Ao3

“Hey, Patricia, are you done unpacking? Trudy’s been baking,” Mara says, peeking her head into their room.

Patricia slams her wardrobe door shut. “Yup, just finished.”

She looks around. It’s strange that, despite spending all but two of the last seven years in this room, it feels far less like home than the triple. Especially since half of her belongings are still in boxes stuffed haphazardly under her bed.

She briefly wonders if KT would be open to swapping but immediately rejects the idea. Willow somewhat scares her, and Joy’s barely said a word since the eclipse that didn’t have to do with her expulsion. At least Mara stays out of her way when she’s got Sibuna stuff to do.

“C’mon, smile.” Mara laughs, grabbing her by the elbow. “We won! Let’s go celebrate!” Patricia groans but lets her roommate drag her down the stairs and into the living room.

Avicii blasts from a speaker and Jerome and Alfie are engaged in a dance battle of epic proportions (epically embarrassing, that is) with everyone else gathered around them, filming or cheering. Everyone, but one person.

Patricia nudges Fabian with her shoulder. “Where’s Eddie?”

“Hmm? Probably still sleeping. I couldn’t unpack because I didn’t want to disturb him,” Fabian says, before turning his attention back to Alfie’s feeble attempt at The Worm.

Sleeping? It’s not like him to miss a party, especially with sugary desserts involved. Patricia looks around the room, but Fabian’s right—there’s no Eddie in sight.

“Someone should go check on him,” she says, but no one seems to pay attention.

Sighing, she grabs a plate of brownies and ventures out into the hallway herself. Just as she suspected, the first door on the right is closed, though a light faintly shines through underneath it. Patricia walks up and knocks twice before gently turning the handle.

She walks in to find Eddie lying face-up on his bed with his arms crossed. He lifts his head slightly when she peeps in, only to grimace and flop back down again when he sees her.

“Hey,” she says, setting the plate on the edge of his bedside table. “I brought you some food.”

“Thanks.”

“Okay. Well, Fabian left his light on, do you want me to turn it off?”

“Nope.”

“Eddie,” Patricia starts, but she doesn’t continue. It’s weird, this semi-friendship they have right now; she knows exactly how he’s feeling, every thought that’s probably running through his head, but she’s not allowed to acknowledge it.

There was a time, many moons ago (really, just a few months back), when she would have immediately laid down next to him, knowing her mere presence would be enough of comfort at this moment. Now, she stays rooted at the front door instead, one hand gripping the handle in case he asks her to leave.

“’Tricia,” Eddie murmurs.

She kicks her shoes off and joins him without another word.

The bed is much too small for the both of them, and it takes most of her strength to not fall off, but when he turns his head to face her (wearing an expression full of sorrow no seventeen-year-old should have to bear) she knows she made the right decision.

“Do you think it was dad’s idea? Letting us stay?”

“I don’t know,” Patricia responds, somewhat untruthfully. In all the time she’s known Mr. Sweet, he’s rarely admitted to a mistake, and reversing an expulsion would definitely amount to doing so.

“No, it probably wasn’t.” Eddie sighs. “I wish I could tell him, let him know what we know.”

Patricia doesn’t respond. How could she, when the fact of the matter is that his father simply will not believe his own son over his friends?

“If it’s any consolation,” she says instead, “We can’t tell mine anything either. All of our parents are in the dark, not just yours.”

Eddie rolls his eyes. “It’s not funny, Yacker.”

“I didn’t say it was.”

Eddie’s gaze softens with her words, and she immediately looks down and away from him, embarrassed. Every one of her instincts is telling her to run. They’re not together anymore, he’s not entitled to her thoughts and feelings, and she’s under no obligation to provide them.

Then, Eddie brushes his index finger against hers (barely a graze but still generating enough contact for her to know it wasn’t an accident), and all notions of fleeing disappear.

Memories of breakups and men in tanks have almost completely left her head, leaving behind a badgering, vague idea at the back of her mind urging her to stay right where she is. She squeezes Eddie’s hand without thinking, trying to convey everything she cannot say out loud. I’m glad you’re here—we’re here. Together. She swears he squeezes back, just for a second.

Despite their precarious positions in relation to each other (both physically and otherwise), Patricia’s oddly and completely at ease in the calm silence that now envelopes them.

Eddie eventually sits up and reaches for the brownies she’d forgotten she’d brought for him. “Want one?” he asks through a mouthful of the dessert, precariously holding the plate toward her with one hand.

“That’s alright. There’s more in the kitchen,” she says, shaking her head and quickly hopping off the bed before he drops all of them on top of her.

“Oh, yeah. I hope Trudy’s made a cake, too. I’m starving.”

Patricia laughs as she pulls her shoes back on. She feels his eyes on her as she walks toward the door and tries to force down the blush slowly creeping up her cheeks.

She’s about to exit when the nagging feeling in her head finally forms itself into a coherent thought. She stops and turns around. “By the way, Eddie.”

“Yeah?”

Patricia purses her lips for a second, choosing her words carefully. “Everything that happened today—it isn’t your fault.”

“Ha, sure. All I do is ruin my dad’s plans or make him upset. Or both. No wonder he wants me gone,” Eddie replies hollowly.

“That’s not—Eddie, I’m not sure that’s true.”

“Then why—”

“He’s been under a lot of stress lately. His life’s work just failed, remember?” Patricia shrugs, though privately, she doesn’t think this hypothetical excuse of his father’s is as valid as she wants him to think.

“Mhmm.” Eddie nods, but it’s clear that he doesn’t fully believe her words, either.

Patricia’s heart sinks. She hates that he feels that way. Time to switch gears.

“Still, him not showing up today was a dick move, and you’re allowed to be sad about it.” She takes a deep breath. “But you also don’t have to hide that. We have your back, you know? All of us.”

Eddie smiles faintly. “Thanks, Yacker. You go, I’ll join in a bit.”

Patricia nods and returns his smile, then turns and leaves the room, feeling both lighter and more grounded than she had all day.

Everyone she cares about is safe. No one’s going anywhere. Now, they just have to figure out how to keep it that way.

#house of anubis #hoa fanfic #peddie #patricia williamson #eddie miller #myfics #my writing #myposts

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drivingsideways · 3 years ago

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Hey talk to me about your top three favourite kdrama women. What makes them special? What's a fic you would like to write about any one of them?

Mystery anon! :D What a lovely ask.

I’m going to cheat a bit and divide my answer into characters I loved a lot, but do not want to write fic about, because I think the canon gives me what I need; and characters that I loved a lot but NEED TO BE RESCUED ZOMG. (My fic writing impulses are 50% spite and 50% fix-it )

Caveat being that I’ve still watched only maybe a dozen kdramas, so I’m pretty limited in my knowledge!

Characters that I love a lot, but have very zero fic impulses toward:

Han Yeo-jin from Stranger/Secret Forest: What a delight! What an iconique character! Is there anyone like her? NO. LSY-nim gives us a delightfully complex character, and Bae Doona knocks it out of the park in every single scene, so I’m just happy to be along for the ride. I think what makes Yeo-jin special for me is the intrinsic place of empathy that she operates from. I think “righteous” is a word that often comes with negative connotations (self-righteous, for eg), but I do think she’s one of the most righteous-in-the-good-way characters I’ve watched in kdrama or any drama. I’m tired of stories that portray goodness as “boring” , as unworthy of narrative breadth or depth, and I love that Han Yeo-jin comes to us like a breath of fresh air in our particular dystopian narratives hellscape. She’s good, but never naive. She’s righteous but never cruel in her moral certainties. I think that LSY nim, in the second season especially, gave Yeo-jin the kind of arc that character deserved when she’s forced to really dig deep into herself to figure out how she’s going to live in the world in the face of a deeply cutting, deeply personal disillusionment, and I’m really hoping for an S3 to see how that plays out further.

Goo Hae-ryung from Rookie Historian: Ok, I will admit this may be rose tinted glasses view due to this show being my gateway drug into kdrama, but c’mon! She’s a reader! and a Thinker! And loves her wine! She’s plucky! She’s cute! She’s got a wry sense of humour! She’s got principles! She’s got a solid common sense to her that somehow doesn’t get in the way of her dreaming BIG! Oh dear, doesn’t she sound like the Mary-est of Mary Sues? Good for her.gif, I say! Anyways, Shin Se-kyung is unutterably charming in this (AS IN EVERY SHOW OMG GIRL) and I just have a huge fondness for free-spirited heroines who get to tramp through the narrative changing the world as they do!

Lee Ji-an from My Ahjussi: I’ve never had my heart broken more OR restored by any single character. IU is *phenomenal * in this, I think she really stepped up to what the script demanded from her. Ji-an’s weariness, her fear and vulnerability, her prickliness, her anger and her bitterness, and how, despite everything, she fights : GOD. Just. Again, what I love about the writing in this show is that it’s deeply empathetic without being cloyingly sentimental. I think a less, hmm, imaginative writer/PD might have focused on the Lee Ji-an the victim, and while the show definitely tells you in no uncertain terms that she is one, of both circumstances and a cruel society, I think it refuses to take away her agency over her own life.(Lee Ji-an when we meet her is too busy hanging onto life by tooth and claw to indulge in self-pity, but we also see the toll it takes on her not to be able to say “this is too heavy a burden for me to carry myself and it isn’t my fault”; the show I think approaches Dong-hoon from the opposite side- his emotional isolation is partly a result of his own choices, but he doesn’t see it yet, and so his journey is also about letting people in and sharing the burden, but also recovering his own agency over his life. It’s an interestingly gender-bent arc, which is one of the things I love about this show. )

Ok, can I please add one more?

Hwang Han-joo from Melo is my Nature: She just felt SO real to me. She’s someone who doesn’t have the spectacular brilliance of either Jin-joo or Eun-jung, and struggles with accepting her limitations but not allowing herself to be defeated by them? I love her struggles as a mother, as a working woman in a sexist industry, a woman who’s perhaps having to rethink and reimagine what she wants from romance. I love that she’s a little silly, a lot kind, and an optimist, and just. I just think she’s the bravest of the three, tbh, and I LOVE HER AND I WOULD WATCH A SPIN OFF ABOUT JUST HER (i shouldn’t have faves among the three i know, BUT I DO, IT’S HER, IT’S HER.)

Ok! On to the next section! And I’m going to cheat again because I can’t stop at three. SORRY. NOT SORRY.

Characters I love and SHOULD write fic for if I weren’t such a tired and lazy bunny:

Song Sa-hui from Rookie Historian: Oh, girl, girl, GIRL. I love how she fights to snatch her freedom from the jaws of the patriarchy. I love that she unapologetically centers herself while doing that, because she knows that nobody else will. I love that she’s prickly and calculating. I love that she’s smart and knowledgeable. I am SO HAPPY that she got to carve out a little bit of freedom for herself, even if it also is exile to some degree. She *should * be Emperor Jin’s Prime Minister and steering the ship of state, while also carrying on a tumultous affair with Queen Min Woo-hee, while ALSO commiserating with Emperor Jin about his boyfriend Historian Min Woo-won’s regrettable tendency towards Principles (TM) and masochism-but-not-in-the-fun-way. (This takes up much of his time which is why Song Sa-hui is running the country, of course. It works out well for all concerned, well, except her dad, of course.)

Song Ga-gyeong from Search:WWW: What’s NOT to love about our brilliant, beautiful, emotionally tortured gay icon? Nothing, absolutely nothing. I loved how the show allowed her to be flawed and make bad decisions, and then allowed her to make better decisions and regain control of her life. What I do need to do, of course, is see the CANON LOVE STORY between her and Cha Hyeon through to the end. It must, of course, include at least one baseball game, a lot of tequila and messy beach kisses.

Oh Ji-hwa from Beyond Evil: Oh boy, this year’s runaway hit cleared the extremely low bar for standard crime/ thriller shows by leaving more than one of its female characters breathing and with all limbs intact, and got called feminist for it BUT it didn’t do justice to any of them in any meaningful way and that never hurt more than in the way they sidelined Kim Shin-rok’s talent by not giving Oh Ji-hwa anything much to do. She’s a tough as nails cop, a loving sister, a devoted but unsentimental friend-and by rights SHOULD HAVE BEEN THE HEROINE OF THIS SHOW. My secret fic fantasy is to rewrite the show entirely by making her , and the two other female characters in non-antagonist roles- Yoo Jae-yi and Im Sun-nyeo- as the central characters, as they investigate a serial killer who targets women. It’s the only acceptable version of this done-to-death (ha!) genre, I have no idea what the Baeksang jury and tumblr fandom is smoking when they hype the show so much, I want none of it.

Jung Sun-ah from The Devil Judge: I love her rage, her spite, her passionate defense of women, her style, her sexiness, her rage, her rage, her brilliance, her tenaciousness, her smartness, her clothes, her refusal to hate herself for everything she is and chooses to be, her ambition, her comfort wielding power, her EVERYTHING. Dead, her? NOT IF I HAVE ANYTHING TO SAY ABOUT IT. Here’s what *really * happened at the end of canon- she gets out of the building by planting that lady-like but still deadly gun against Kang Yo-han’s temple and making him lead her through his own “secret escape route” or whatever the fuck it was the show wanted us to believe. From there on out, it’s all sunshine and beaches, and scheming and waiting for the right moment to strike again-though of course, this time around, she also has to reckon with vigilant, tenacious cop Soo-hyun -another character who REALLY didn’t die for manpain reasons and had the good sense to leave her gay best friend to follow his psychopath boyfriend to Switzerland or wherever it is that star crossed lovers in kdrama land meet up on the regs these days- anyways, Soo-hyun and her are in this catch-me-if-you-can epic transnational honest and cute cop-and-beautiful sexy villain chase and yes, they WILL kiss (and more) AND IT WILL BE GLORIOUS.

*whew *

Thanks for coming to my TEDTalk.

#kdrama #thank you for this ask OMG #[fiona apple voice] ladies ladies ladies ladies

24 notes · View notes

stellarboystyles · 4 years ago

Text

serendipity

ahhhh she’s finally done!! now i can rest my weary soul. thank you to my lover @bfharry for putting this lovely event together, and i’m sorry this late, i’m a mess.

7k pining, fluff and smut

friends to lovers college au // trigger warning - mentions of illness, family death and childhood trauma, mentions of alcohol use.

She was reaching as high as she could, desperately trying to get to the book on the shelf that was much too high for her to reach. She turns to Harry, who’s smirking down at her with crossed arms.

“Need a lift, sprout?”

She gives him a look of eloquence. “Please.”

She giggles as he dips down, wrapping his arms around her legs and lifting her up. Now, she’s happily at eye level with the desired shelf.

Her fingers skimming over the spines of all the hardbacks sitting comfortably on the wood surface. E...F...G...H...

“Found it!”

Once her eyes lock on the title, she pulls the book out as fast as she could.

“Okay, let me down.”

“Sure? Don’t like the view from up there? Know you’re not used to it-”

“No, now let me down before I bruise you like the peach that you are.”

“Ouch.” he snickered, setting you back down onto the ground beneath. “S’harsh.”

“Deserved it.” she teased before he sticks out his tongue in a playful response.

“What d’ya need the book for?”

“It’s for that analysis we have to do for poetry class.”

He blinks at her once, eyes widening slightly. “What analysis?”

She giggles at his expression. “You didn’t read your emails, did you?”

“Fuck!” he exclaims, voice slightly above a whisper, but it was enough to agitate the other students in the library who are trying to either study or get their own work done.

“Shhh!”

“Sorry, sorry.” he apologizes to the people around them before Y/N puts a hand on his bicep and he leans into her to hear her whispering words.

“You just have to pick a poetry book, analyze it, make a conclusion, all that stuff.”

“So it’s like an essay?”

“Kind of.” she follows Harry as he starts to examine the shelves for a book himself. “You know how Greene is, he’s super chill. He wants it to be more of a review, what you think of the book and the author.”

“So, like a review.”

She blinks at him. “That’s what I just said.”

“M’tired, gimme a break.” he sighs. “He never challenges us in that class.”

“I guess not.” she shrugs. “Easy grade, right?”

“Sounds like it.” he gives a casual nod. “When’s it due?”

“Tuesday.”

“Sweet.” he nods, eyes skimmed across the shelves before landing on a cornflower blue hardback. Harry chose books by their cover a lot. Not metaphorically, just literally.

“Ready?”

He nods again. “Yeah, let’s go.”

Once they’d both gotten their book signed out, they started down the path across the patch of grass, making their way to their next class that they had together.

“So you really didn’t check your phone all weekend?”

He shakes his head. “No, my phone was off ‘cos Gem was visiting over the weekend, remember?” he taps on the side of her head with one finger. “Helloooo, earth to Y/N, you were there.”

“Quit it!” she scolds, swatting his hand away. “Yeah, I think I remember her. She’s the least annoying Styles’ sibling, right?”

Harry unexpectedly clutches his chest, wincing in pain. “Ouch, ow!”

Panic rushed through her, the first thing popping into her mind was that he was having an asthma attack. “Haz, are you okay?” she drops her bag onto the ground so that she can help him. “You’re scaring me, do you need your inhaler?”

He leans over, eyes squeezed closed. One hand is resting on his knee, the other still grasping at his sternum.

“My ego...it hurts.”

As soon as the words registered, anger washed over her, jaw rippling before punching him in the bicep.

“You’re such a little shit.”

“Oi, tha’ hurt!” he laughs, which makes her even more angry, whisking her bag off the ground and walking away from him as quickly as possible.

He lets out a lighthearted sigh before starting to jog up to her. “C’mon, wait up.”

“Go away.” she grumbles, quickening the pace of her steps towards the building that their next class was in. Her hand was less than a foot away from reaching the door, about to push it open but she was no match for his longer legs as he jogged to catch up with her.

“Hey, hey.” he manages to get her hand in his grasp. She turns around in his grip, eyes fiery with vex.

“What.”

“C’mon, don’t be like that.” he frowns, moving so that he’s holding both of her hands in his as he stood in front of her. “Please? M’sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”

She crossed her arms over her chest, leaning against the brick wall behind her. “Yes you did.”

“Let me make it up to you?” he offers, resting his palm on the rough surface above her head.

“Whatever you want.”

The pounding heartbeat in her ears is deafening, but the prank that he’d just pulled wasn’t quickly forgotten.

“I’ll let you know when I think of something.” Pushing herself off the wall, she turns and pushes the door open to the classroom, leaving a sad Harry behind. He trudged along behind her, silently moping before sitting next to her. Not even a minute after they sat down, Harry was leaning over to her, trying to get her attention.

“Y/N, please.” he whines, laying his head on her shoulder. “M’sorry.”

The butterflies in her stomach were crumbling her resolve, and she lays her cheek on top of his curls. “It’s okay.” he can hear the smile in her quiet voice. He peers up at her, an endearing smile beaming back at her.

“Not mad at me anymore?” he clarifies, voice filled with hope.

“How long have we been best friends?” she laughs. “Y’know I can never stay mad at you.”

“We were babies, don’t you remember?” he snickers. “Like, actual babies.”

Neither of them really remember.

Harry and Y/N’s parents had been neighbors and friends for years before either of them were born, and when Harry was almost two, they’d given birth to a beautiful baby girl.

“Harry, look.” Anne coos to her son as he sits on her lap. “See the baby?”

He stops playing with his teddy, toddling over to the sound of his mummy’s voice and he’s so fascinated, probably because he’s never seen a real baby before.

“I hold her?”

The new mum says “of course” before she gives her baby to Anne, now holding her in Harry’s lap.

“I pet?”

He carefully lifts a chubby hand, places it on her tummy and pats gently at the pale lavender onesie.

“My sweet boy.” Anne kisses the top of his head, smoothing out his blonde bangs.

Harry leans down and pushes a soft kiss onto her cheek, and it’s safe to say both mums melt at the sight.

“They’ll be best friends for sure.”

He looks up at the baby’s mum. “She seepin’?”

She nods with a smile. “Yeah, she's sleepin’.”

He gives her another kiss on her cheek before speaking again, this time in a hushed voice.

“Night Night, baby.”

“Our mums are never gonna let us forget that day.” he groans, twisting open the cap of the drink in his hands.

“Or that you had a crush on me.”

He nearly chokes on his juice, making her split into a fit of giggles.

“Maybe I did.” he admits, leaning his elbows onto the desk. “So what?”

“You definitely did, remember when you kissed me?”

His cheeks heat up at her teasing, arms crossing on top of the desk before laying his head down in embarrassment. He cracks one eye open at her laughing. “y/nnnn.”

When Harry was five and Y/N was four, he asked if he could kiss her, at school.

“You’re the prettiest girl in the whole world.” Harry tells her as his fingers draw in the dirt.

“That’s what my mummy and daddy tells me!” she cheers, and he may only be five years old but he knows that no other girl on the playground would happily sit in the dirt with him like she would. Her cheeks are resting against her hands and Harry thinks that they’re the cutest cheeks he’s ever seen.

“Can we kiss now?”

She thinks for a moment before speaking.

“You can’t tell your mummy, because she might tell my mummy and we’ll be in trouble.”

“Won’t tell anyone, not even Niall.”

Her eyes go wide with a gasp. Niall was his best friend, he must really mean business.

“Really?”

“Promise.” he holds out his pinky for her to squeeze.

Unfortunately for them, while Y/N was over next door at Harry’s for a playdate Anne caught them kissing in the back garden and they were both forced into the friend zone. Y/N was super sad, and Harry didn’t like that one bit, so he tried to make her feel better.

“Don’t cry, someday when we’re grown ups we can kiss and hold hands anytime we want! We can be best friends ‘til then, okay?”

“The start of an epic friendship.” he reminisces, flashing her a wink.

“Good times and bad.” she nods, and the mood drifts to sad silence.

“We’ve really been there through everything, huh?” he acknowledges, meeting her gaze.

When Harry was twelve and Y/N was eleven, Harry’s dad left. Left his family with nothing and Harry was devastated.

“How could he? This isn’t fair to any of you.”

Y/N was standing in Anne’s kitchen listening to her painstakingly tell her what had just happened. He’d left while Anne was working and Gemma and Harry were at school, leaving the remainder of the family devastated.

“I know darling, but we’ll get through this. I’m worried about Harry, he ran off. He was so upset. Do you know where he could be?”

“I’ll find him.”

* 。˚ ˛ • 。* 。° 。 * 。 • ˚ ˛ 。* 。• ° 。* 。 • ˚

Her mind and legs worked together to pedal faster than she ever had before through the park behind their street. As soon as she crosses the bridge she sees him. He’s sitting under their favorite oak tree, knees dew up to his chest.

“Harry!”

She throws her bike down and sprints to him, falling next to him.

He looks up, releases the grip on his hair and reaches out, grasping her hands and she quickly pulls him into a hug and she’d never held anyone so tight in her entire life. Her own hot tears started to fall from her face at the sound of his heartbreaking cries and she doesn’t know how long they stayed there like that, slowly moving her fingers through his curls as she held him. He let out a whimper when she forced his face out of her neck, cradling his cheeks in her hands. He looked so defeated and she had to use every ounce of strength in her body not to sit there and cuddle him against this tree all night. His mum and sister needed him, and he needed them. Her fingers brushed across his wet cheeks and he leaned into her touch as she repeated the action.

“I’m so sorry, Haz.” another sob escapes him at her words. “You don’t have to talk about it. You can cry, scream and yell, whatever you want...but we gotta get home., it’s getting dark.”

“Don’t wanna go back there.” he shakes his head and tightens his hold on your shirt.

“H, your mum and sister need you, and you need them.”

“I need you.”

Y/N’s heart flutters and she’s not sure why, but she’s sure Harry can feel it because he’s still fisting her shirt.

“I’ll stay the night at yours, my mum won’t care.”

“What about your dad?”

“He’ll get over it.”

Understandably, of course her father wasn’t too fond of the idea of his daughter sleeping over at her best friend’s house, because he was a boy. But she reassured her dad countless times that “boys were gross” so he begrudgingly allowed it.

They’d cuddled countless times, that night was no different. She held him, stroking his hair some more as they talked. The mood is lightened after awhile. Even though the healing process hasn’t even really begun yet. Harry was gonna be okay, because he had Y/N.

“Gemma gets so jealous because she can’t have boys in her room.” he jokes, making her giggle.

“She’s also fifteen and has a boyfriend.” she reasons. “We’re just best friends.”

“True.”

Comfortable silence engulfed Harry’s room for a few moments, the vibe was mellow from each other’s presence before Y/N spoke again.

“It’s gonna be okay.” her voice was barely above a whisper, brushing the stray hairs away from his forehead.

“You don’t know that.” he whispers, peering up at her. The moonlight shining through the window is enough to illuminate their faces while they talk.

“Yeah I do.” she argues softly. “It’s bad right now, but it’ll be okay someday. Promise.”

When Y/N was seventeen, her world came crashing down.

“Harry, can you come down please?”

He quickly put down his phone, shoving it into his pocket when he heard the urgency in his mum’s voice coming from downstairs. Ever since his dad left he’d grown closer to his mum and sister, more protective.

He rushes downstairs, finding her in the kitchen.

“Mum? What's wrong?”

“I need you to go next door and check on Y/N, alright?”

His face fills with confusion and fear but Anne doesn’t give him any time to respond.

“I just got off the phone with Rachelle, she and Will had gone out to dinner and he started to have some terrible pain. They’re at the hospital now, they did some tests…they found something and they think it might be cancer.”

Harry’s face falls.

“Oh God, Mum—”

“I know, baby, I know.”

“Does she know? She had to work after school today, does she know?”

“Her mum said she was going to call her once she’d gotten home from work.”

“She gets off at eight thirty,” he pulls out his phone and sees that it’s nine fifteen. “She should be home by now.” He briskly walks over to the window that faces Y/N’s house.

“Her car’s there.” he reveals. “M’goin’ over there. I’ll be back.”

She agrees and without another word Harry’s at her front door.

Locked.

“Shit, shit, shit.” he mutters to himself before remembering the spare key under the flower pot by the door. Once it’s retrieved, his trembling hands fumble with the piece of metal before successfully unlocking the door and pushing it open. As soon as he’s inside, he hears muffled crying from upstairs and it’s all he needs to hear before he’s rushing upstairs and down the hall to her bedroom. Normally he would never just walk in her room uninvited, but when he saw the white wooden door decorated with silver stars all over, he wasn’t going to stop until he got to her. As soon as he pushes her bedroom door open, the sight alone is enough to make him cry. He watches her yank her desk chair out, screaming as she throws it as hard as she could across the floor.

“Y/N!”

He rushes to her, pulling her in the most protective hug he’s ever given. Her arms retreated to frightfully gripping the front of his shirt, knees buckling. They ended up crumpled on the floor, backs against the wall as he held her. Her gut wrenching cries were hushed by Harry’s embrace.

“Hey, hey—shhh. M’here, look at me, okay? Deep breaths, breathe with me, okay?”

“I can’t, it’s too much. This isn’t happening, this isn’t happening.” her cries made his heart ache, all he wanted to do was make it better, but he just couldn’t.

Needless to say, they’ve been there for each other through everything. Y/N’s dad passed away later that year, leaving everyone devastated. Harry waited a year to go to college to be there for Y/N and her mum.

“Are you excited for NYU?”

She tried to sound happy for him, but her voice was laced with sadness. His back was facing her so she couldn’t see his face as he glanced at the sunset out her window.

“M’not going.” he admits, voice small and her jaw goes slack.

“What? What d’you mean you’re not going?”

“Can’t leave you two here like this.” he turns around and tears are brimming his waterline. “Already talked it over with mum, and the bakery’s not really willin’ t’let me go yet.”

“Harry.” she warns.

“Hey,” it’s alright.” he pulls her into a protective hug. “We’ll get everything sorted out, okay? It’ll be nice to take a year off from school anyway.”

His lighthearted tone isn’t enough to soothe her anxiety. “You don’t have to put your life on hold for me.”

“I’m not.” he promises. “We’ve been there for each other through everything, yeah?” he pulls away slightly, giving her a warm smile. “That doesn’t just stop because we aren’t kids anymore.”

“We make a good team.”

Her words warm his heart and he turns to her, nodding with a sweet smile.

“Yeah, we do, don’t we?”

* 。˚ ˛ • 。* 。° 。 * 。 • ˚ ˛ 。* 。• ° 。* 。 • ˚

Her.

Admire her.

Tell her how the crinkles in her eyes are like crescent moons, glowing when she smiles.

Watch how she giggles at your jokes that aren’t funny, and how coy she gets when you’re sweet with her.

She couldn’t help but get lost in books like this. Somehow they managed to capture everything she’s ever been through, and everything she’s struggling with now. It was torture, really, being in love with her best friend, seeing him everyday, hiding her feelings from him in fear of their friendship being ruined forever. She couldn’t even fathom if that horror were to become her reality, she surely wouldn’t survive the heartbreak.

Touch her.

Tell her that the stretch marks that paint her skin are magnificent, and that her body is just one dazzling part of who she is.

Snuggle her with tender touches and soft fingertips, love on every curve of her body.

She found herself daydreaming at times like this—the midday sun beaming down on her through the window of the library as she sat in one of the lounge chairs, reading one of her favorite poetry books. She would think about how Harry would touch her if she were his. How he would caress her skin, what his lips could do, where his hands would go.

Adore her.

Cherish her.

Her reading was quickly interrupted, her vision obstructed by a pair of hands covering her eyes followed by a familiar voice.

“Guess who.”

“Uh...Bigfoot?”

“Heeeey.” he protests, moving to sit in the lounge chair next to hers. “S’mean.”

She giggles at his pouting, squeezing one of his cheeks. “Poor baby.”

“Ouch.” he brought his hand up to his face to rub the sore skin. “Like beatin’ up on me, do yeh?”

“Just a little.” she winks.

“Yeah, yeah.” he playfully rolls his eyes before turning his attention to the book in his best friend’s hands. “Whatcha readin’?”

Her heartbeat quickened as she realised that she had been caught, swiftly shutting the book and tucking it into her bag. “Nothing.”

“Nooo, lemme see!”

He didn’t give her another chance to respond, knowing her all too well. She shied away from his words, cheeks splashing with pink.

“C’mon, pleeease?” he frowns, nudging her arm with his elbow. He notices her apprehension, not wanting to push her.

“S’just me.”

His voice is softer, giving her a fluttering feeling as he leans in closer. “Y’trust me, right?”

The close proximity made her heart thump in her chest. She gives him a slight nod before quietly replying. “Yeah.”

He gently bites down on his lower lip, his eyes flickering from her eyes, down to her lips.

Were they going to kiss?

“Why won’t you tell me what you were readin’?” he quirks with a small smile, tilting his head slightly. You can see the wheels turning. “S’it naughty?”

“No!” she gives him a look, as if to say stooooop, Haz.

He chuckles at her nervousness, patiently waiting as she keeps fumbling over her words, avoiding his captivating eyes. “No...no, no, it’s a...it’s just a book.”

“Obviously.” he blinks. “What kind of book.”

“Just poetry.” she mumbles, hoping he would drop the subject quickly.

“S’it for your poetry analysis thing? What kind of—”

“Harryyyyy.” she whines, hiding her face in her hands.

“M’not doin’ anything! Can’t I be interested in what you’re readin’?” he defends, resting his cheek in his hand, elbow leaning on the arm of the chair.

“M’only teasing.” he swipes his fingers across her heated cheeks as he speaks softly to her. “You’re bein’ so shy.”

It’s so adorable, he thinks to himself.

“You don’t have to show me if you don’t want to.” he reassures. “M’starving. Did you still wanna go to lunch?”

She perked up at his question, the book in her bag eventually forgotten, just as she wished. “Please, I’m so hungry.”

“Can we get—”

“Chinese?” his face lights up. “Please please please?”

“We had that last weekend.”

“So? S’the best food ever, and since when do you turn down chinese food?” he rests his head on the table. “I’ll help you with French Lit.”

“Compelling argument, I didn’t know you were taking a debate class.”

“So funny.” he rolls his eyes. “C’mon, please?”

* 。˚ ˛ • 。* 。° 。 * 。 • ˚ ˛ 。* 。• ° 。* 。 • ˚

“I love chow mein so much.”

Y/N’s words barely register in his ears, let alone his brain as he admired the sight of her, eyes closed in bliss as she slurps another noodle.

She’s just so fucking cute.

“I love you so much.”

“What?”

He’s sure his heart had just dropped into his stomach and his eyes were going to pop out of his head. He hadn’t even realised he’d said it out loud!

“Didn’t say anything.” he mumbles, mentally cursing himself after feeling the heat radiating off his cheeks. He avoids her gaze as he shoves another spoonful of hot and sour soup into his mouth.

“So how’s your story for creative writing going?” she wonders, twirling some noodles with her fork, because no, she didn’t know how to use chopsticks, and yes, Harry never missed an opportunity to tease her about it.

“Awful.” he pouts, to which she mirrors his expression.

“You stuck?”

“Very.” he groans. “Just can’t seem to get the words out, y’know?”

“I’ve been there.” she nods. “Do you want some help?”

“Please.” he begged, giving her puppy eyes. “S’due next friday, been workin’ on it every night and still can’t get a single word out.”

“I think you just need to take a break, babes.” she offers. “Let’s have a sleepover this weekend and I’ll help you.”

He gives a sigh of relief, making her laugh. “You’re a gem. What would I do without you?”

“Your life would definitely be less exciting.” she notes, taking another bite.

He was silent for a moment, probably thinking of a comeba—

“At least I know how to use chopsticks.”

“You won’t teach me!” she pouts at his teasing. “Quit being mean.”

“Want me to teach you?” he perks, peering up at her.

“Yes.” she lets out a breathless giggle while nodding.

He playfully huffs, slightly rolling his eyes as he moves to sit behind her on her bed.

“Okay, so you hold them like this…”

* 。˚ ˛ • 。* 。° 。 * 。 • ˚ ˛ 。* 。• ° 。* 。 • ˚

Friday, October 12

Dear Diary,

I feel like I’m going crazy. I keep trying to finish this story for my creative writing class but I keep getting distracted...all I can think about is him. I can’t help it, he’s all I ever think about. How am I supposed to write a romance fiction piece when all I can think about is how I’m in love with my best friend? Harry is charming and sweet and funny and genuine, any girl would be lucky to be his. How did I get myself into this mess? Harry would never like me like that, ever. My heart hurts if I think about it too much. Sometimes I feel like I should just tell him, bite the bullet, rip off the band aid and hope to God that our friendship isn’t ruined forever. In a perfect world,

Y/N drops her pen at the vibration of her phone.

Harry is calling…

“Hello?”

“We’ve known each other for how long and you still answer with hello?”

She lets out a breathless laugh. “Are you having a bad day or are you just making fun of me for shits and giggles?”

“Lil bit of both, yeah?” she can hear the cheekiness in his voice. “We still havin’ a sleepover this weekend? Might have to do it at yours, Niall’s havin’ a party and I doubt we’ll get anything done.”

She could hear the sheepish tone in his voice. “Oh no, if you wanna be at the party we can totally reschedule.” she offers.

Harry scrunches up his nose. “Need to get this paper done, m’never gonna finish it with all the noise.” he’s lying on his bed, staring at the ceiling.

“Besides, I’d rather spend the weekend with you.”

She feels her heart flutter at his admission, cheeks tingling with heat.

“ Okay...can you bring some snacks?”

There were no two humans on earth that loved fruit more than Harry and Y/N. so around fifteen minutes later, when Harry showed up to Y/N’s door with two smoothies, she melted like sugar.

“Berry for you.” he hands you the icy purple smoothie in his left hand. “Strawberry banana for me.”

“Awh, thank you!” she gently pinches one of his cheeks. “You’re so sweet.”

“Oi, worse than my mum, aren’t you?” he rubs at the newly pink cheek.

“No.” she defends. “C’mon, I’ll help you with your story so you don’t drag it out all weekend.”

“I resent that.” he mutters, sitting beside her on her bed as he flips open his laptop.

“Do you have an idea of what you wanna write?”

“I have a little bit finished, now, about five thousand words. Wanna have a look?”

Y/N reads it over and it’s nothing short of a masterpiece so far. How can he be so pretty and talented at the same time?

“This is beautiful,” she gapes, turning to look up at him. “This is so good, H.”

“Oh, stop.” He sheepishly brushes off her praise. “Don’t think it’s bad so far, just need to come up with a conflict.”

“Just figure out what breaks your characters, what makes them the most vulnerable, what would completely crush them?”

“Losing each other.”

“More specific?” she tries, staring at the screen in front of her. “It’ll help with the details.”

“Rory’s afraid to tell Daisy that he’s in love with her.” he says. “He’s afraid that, if she finds out, it’ll ruin their friendship.”

Y/N’s lungs felt empty, like all the air had been sucked out by Harry’s words.

“Okay, um,” she gulps, trying to collect her thoughts. “So...write about that, and see where the story takes you.”

Three hours later

“Can we take a break?” he groans, laying back on the pillows of her bed. “M’starving.”

“Me too.” she pouts, fiddling with her hands. “Whatcha hungry for?”

“Mmm,” Harry thinks for a few moments before speaking up. “A veggie grill just opened up downtown, we should go there!”

“You’re making me crave nachos.”

“You always crave nachos.”

“Why do you always have to call me out?” she whines, giving him a bashful glance.

“S’fun, innit?” he smirks, nudging her shoulder with his bicep.

“No.” she giggles, lying down next to him. “I’m gonna go get a shower then we can go.”

“Okay.”

An endearing smile adorned his face as she snuggled slightly into the soft pillows. Her eyes leisurely blink at him, falling closed after a few seconds.

“Sleepy?”

“Mhm.”

“Thought you wanted a shower?” he hummed. Although, he wouldn’t mind staying here all night. “You can stay here, I’ll go pick up some food.”

“No, it’s okay.” she yawns, pushing herself up off the bed. “I’ll be quick.”

* 。˚ ˛ • 。* 。° 。 * 。 • ˚ ˛ 。* 。• ° 。* 。 • ˚

Harry gets bored easily, although his best friends room was much more lovely than his. He thinks his room is pretty basic; but Y/N’s room was much more charming. The walls were painted a pale ivory, decorated with fairy lights above her bed, which was dressed with a crisp white comforter and matching pillows. The knitted plum blanket that Harry had gotten her ages ago for Christmas was at the end of her bed. He vividly remembers when he had given it to her.

Her eyes were sparkling with joy as she pulled the blanket out of the box.

“Your mum helped me make it.” he mentions with a sheepish smile. “She was so patient, even though I had no idea what I was doing.”

“It’s beautiful.” she beams, pulling it close to her heart before looking up at him as they sat on the floor of Harry’s living room. “I love it.”

He gives her a soft smile, but he feels melancholic energy surrounding him. He keeps telling himself that he didn’t have a reason to be sad, because they weren’t together...but all he wanted was for her to be his. She was so cute, beanie snug on her head under the glow of the Christmas tree.

“Can I ask you somethin’?”

To which she nods. “Of course.”

“Do you think,” his lips are pressed together in thought for a moment. “Do you think that fate is real?”

“Like kismet?” she cocks her head with a smile and he nods, breaking into a laugh.

“Yeah. Yeah, like kismet.”

“I think,” she takes a moment, fumbling with her hands before looking up at him. “Yeah, I think it’s real.”

Ten thousand words. Harry has to write ten thousand words by next Friday and he doesn’t have a single word typed out. Creative writing was supposed to be fun, and he had to write a romance fiction piece? Harry didn’t exactly thrive when it came to love. In fact, his love life was bone dry, to put it lightly. Other girls were...boring, compared to Y/N. Harry was charming and romantic and sweet and loving—but he didn’t want some random girl, he wanted Y/N to be his girl. Pining over her was his full time job, always has been.

He walks over to her desk, admiring the pictures that graced the wall just above. One of the photos that catches his eye is Y/N, probably about three or four, and her dad is reading her a bedtime story, her mum most likely being the one taking the photo. Sorrow washes over him, because it never gets easier, does it?

His eyes float to a few photos of Harry and Y/N laying next to each other on their friend Jess’s parents house on the terrace. It was the first time they’d ever gotten drunk and they were trashed. The first photo is them attempting to sit up for a picture.

“You guys are so drunk.”

“M’not drunk.” Harry glances at Millie and Jess, who were behind the camera. “M’Harry! Who’s drunk?”

Harry’s rebuttal left both of them bursting into a fit of giggles.

“Haz, Jess wants a picture of us, pleeeeaaaase?”

Harry holds himself up by leaning back with one hand on the ground, the other arm slung around Y/N’s shoulder. He then turns to nuzzle his nose into her hair.

“Y’so pretty.” he murmurs drunkenly into her ear.

“Shut up, you’re drunk.”

“M’not, m’serious.”

The last one from that night was them cuddling on the sofa at the end of their night, Harry’s face nuzzled into her shoulder as they slept soundly well into the afternoon.

His fingertips brushed across his favorite photo of them. They were working together at the bakery, and Harry had just traced his flour dipped fingertips in a line across Y/N’s cheek before she retaliated by sweeping some icing across the bridge of his nose. He grins from ear to ear at the memory.

“Hey Y/N, guess what?”

She turned around to face him when he abruptly drew a line with his flour dipped fingertips across her cheek.

Her jaw went slack at his bold action before icing was swiped across the bridge of his nose.

“Now we’re even.” that is, until she flicks some of the remaining blue icing from her fingers onto his face.

“Aw, c’mon!” he wipes his face with his apron before narrowing his eyes. “Really?”

“You started it.” she pointed out and Harry gave her a shrug.

“I am so gonna get you back the next time we bake at my house.”

His eyes fall down to her desk, and he promises he didn’t mean to see it. It was his name, in her handwriting, written in purple gel pen inside an open book. Was it a journal?

Friday, October 12

Dear Diary,

Shit.

He looked away for a moment, lip caught between his teeth. Should he read it? No, but he couldn’t help himself.

I feel like I’m going crazy. I keep trying to finish this story for my creative writing class but I keep getting distracted...all I can think about is him.

Him? Who’s she talking about? Does she like someone? The empty feeling in his chest isn’t a good feeling by any means.

I can’t help it, he’s all I ever think about. How am I supposed to write a romance fiction piece when all I can think about is how I’m in love with my best friend?

All the color drains from Harry’s face.

“Is she talking about me?” he murmurs.

Harry is charming and sweet and funny and genuine, any girl would be lucky to be his.

His heart flutters at the mention of his name, aching at the next line.

How did I get myself into this mess? Harry would never like me like that, ever. My heart hurts if I think about it too much.

He felt like he was going to cry. How could this girl not know how much of a sucker he is for her? His heart thumped inside his chest and he could feel the heat radiating off his flushed cheeks.

Okay, don’t panic. Just calm down, don’t freak out.

He ran a hand through his hair, trying to process what he had just read whilst trying to decide what to do. Does he just tell her? Show her the page? No, she’ll be so angry that he read her diary, who does that?

In that moment, he chooses to do the only thing that makes sense.

He listens to his heart.

* 。˚ ˛ • 。* 。° 。 * 。 • ˚ ˛ 。* 。• ° 。* 。 • ˚

She’d just hopped out of the shower when she heard a knock on her bathroom door.

“Hey, s’just me.” Harry’s voice clarifies through the wood. “Already ordered some food, m’gonna go and pick it up, I’ll be back.”

“I can go with you if you want-”

“No, s’okay! Be back in fifteen.”

And he’s gone.

After exiting her bathroom, she changes into some comfy clothes before deciding to read something from her book collection until Harry gets back. WHen she turns to go over to her bookshelves, she sees it.

A familiar lavender book, her diary, was lying open on her desk, and her heart sinks. Had he read what she’d written earlier? That must be why he was in such a hurry to leave! She probably scared him off. Y/N’s heart was racing as she stepped closer and realised that the page the diary was open to wasn’t written in her handwriting.

It was Harry’s handwriting.

Hi lovie, it’s Harry.

I was too nervous to tell you this to your face, so I’m gonna write out my feelings.

You’re my best friend in the whole world, and I absolutely adore everything about you.

I love how you talk in your sleep, and yes, you do talk in your sleep. I know how much you love to snuggle when you’re sleepy or sad or you just want a cuddle...and how you still sleep with a night light on like when we were small. You always tell me it’s so you can see in case you need to get up and have a wee in the middle of the night, but I know it’s because you’re still scared of the dark.

She couldn’t believe her eyes. Was she dreaming?

I love how you crinkle your nose when you laugh, and how your smile glows like moonlight and how you play with your hands when you don’t know what to say. I love your love for books, and how much better your taste in music is than me. I love how you love to snuggle, especially when you’re...inebriated.

She giggles silently to herself, because he was so right. Not that he was any better.

I could go on forever, but I don’t wanna get caught writing this.

I am so in love with you, Y/N.

Love, H. x

Y/N didn’t know how to feel. Her heart was warm, but she was so nervous. What does this mean for them? How will this affect their friendship? Hundreds of questions run through her brain until she hears a knock on the door.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” she whispers. “Okay, just... be chill, please be chill.”

Trying to calm herself down in a matter of seconds was pointless. Walking over to the door, she took a deep breath in before opening the door.

“Hi.” he blinks at her, letting out a light laugh before setting down the two paper bags in his hands. “M’back. They didn’t have the-”

“I read it.”

He avoids her gaze and he feels frozen by her words, digging his vans into the carpet.

“Harry.” she breathes. “Say something.”

His eyes flicker to meet hers, taking a step forward.

“I...I love you.”

Y/N feels like a weight has been lifted off her chest, like she just came for air after being kept under water for too long.

“If this makes things weird, I’m sorry. I’m so fuckin’ sorry, but I love you to pieces and I-”

“I love you too.”

His smile is pure joy before he takes her hand in his, pulling her closer to him.

“Can I kiss you?” he begs, almost breathless. “Please.”

She nods, and he cradles her cheeks in his hands, pressing a sweet kiss to her lips.

His lips were so soft, moving with hers like they were made for each other.

Harry was sitting on the edge of her bed, her thighs straddling his hips and she sat across his lap. Her hands were in his hair, the fluttery tendrils twirled around her fingers. His hands are settled on her waist, slowly moving to her thighs.

“Is this okay?” he murmurs the serious question against her lips and she nods quickly. “Yeah.”

“Okay.” he breathes. “M’just checkin’.”

“It’s okay.” she laughs breathlessly against his lips. “Everything's okay.”

Reluctantly, he pulls back slightly to look at her, searching for any sort of doubt, but there was none.

“Don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, okay?”

His voice is cautious. “M’not goin’ anywhere, ever. Don’t have to rush anything.”

“Just go with the flow, H.” she murmurs, sliding her hands up his clothed biceps.

“Sorry, who are you?” he raises his eyebrows, a baffled expression on his face. “Since when do you ever go with the flow?”

“A lot of things have changed today.” she confesses, hands resting on his shoulders. “Why not?”

They’d always felt so safe with each other, so now was no different.

They both dived back into the kiss. Harry’s tongue swiped across her bottom lip, testing the waters before lips and tongue worked together to deepen the kiss.

“Wanna ride my thigh?” he wonders, mumbling against her lips. “Don’t have to if-”

“Yeah. yes.” she gulps, moving to slide her shorts down while he shuffles out of his jeans. Once they were both without pants, they didn’t waste anymore time.

“C’mere, darlin’.” he flicked his fingers, encouraging her back onto his lap.

“Just feel my touch.”

The tone of his voice was unbelievably hot, raspy and low as their lips continuously brushed. His hands grip her hips, guiding her movements.

“Feel good?” he suckles on her bottom lip, drawing a whimper past her lips. She’s rocking against his bare thigh, coarse hair stimulating her even closer to the edge.

“Feels so good, Harry.”

Her moans are nothing short of melodic, chasing her orgasm through the lace. He pushes her t-shirt up, kisses are decorated down her neck until his mouth is on one of her breasts. She tilts her head back at the suckling sensation with another moan, and it’s so fucking intoxicating to Harry. His tongue flicks her nipple a few more times before lifting his head.

“Like that?” he hums, moving to cup her breasts. She nods and his thumbs start to tweak her nipples and she arches her back at the feeling.

“Harry.” she whimpers, gripping the material of his shirt in her fists. “Please.”

“Whatcha need, tell me darlin’.”

“M’gonna come, m’gonna come.”

He gives a thick moan, hands moving to hold her backside. “Know you are. C’mon angel, you can let go.”

His sweet words coax her through her orgasm as she’s coming down, and she feels like she’s floating.

“Did you like that?”

“Mhm.” she nods, her eyes fluttering closed as Harry’s hand brushes some baby hairs off her forehead. “Wanna keep going.”

“Jeez, at least let me take you out to dinner first.”

#boyfriendathon #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut

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mycupoffanfiction · 4 years ago

Text

The One

Coco Cruz x Reader

Summary: Coco turns you in a clumsy, shy mess every time he’s around and you just can’t quite find the courage to tell him how you feel, that is until your Mayan brothers drag you both to a funfair.

Warnings: Fluff, lots of shyness, Angel and Gilly trying to be wingmen, a brief mention of public sex acts.

Word count: Approx 2600

Masterlist

A/N: Hi loves, I’ve been working on this fic for months, but it was never quite right, but I loved it too much to scrap it, so I’m super happy to finally be able to share it with you! I did struggle with this a bit, so I apologise if it’s not super smooth, but hey 🤷🏻‍♀️ This is just the first part, the second part will be with you soon. Enjoy! 💖

“How the fuck are you winning again?” Gilly groaned, slouching in his chair opposite you as you placed down a card on the table, effectively winning the round of the card game you were playing. Giggling, you shrugged and crossed one leg over the other, looking rather smug with yourself. “You challenged me, remember?” You giggled, all too happy that you’d won another round. Gilly sighed and tilted his head back before gathering up the cards. “One more round?” He asked, handing you the cards to shuffle and you nodded, taking them from him.

Shuffling the cards, you were mid conversation with Gilly about how you wanted to go to the fair that had been set up just outside of town, when Angel and Coco entered the clubhouse. “It’ll be great, also, I don’t believe him, but Coco said he’d never had cotton candy before and-.” “He’s never what?” Gilly replied, incredulous, if not a little over dramatic and you giggled, shaking your head. “There’s your chance for a date, hermana, take ‘im to get cotton candy.” Gilly chuckled, nudging your hand with his, to which you protested with a drawn out, hushed ‘noooo Gilly’.

You were a dear friend to the club and all of its members, so much so that you were often titled ‘hermana’ since you had become a sister to most members, though some of them, notably Bishop had taken to calling you mija. But really, you kept everyone in the club grounded and you were greatly appreciated for your loving, sweet nature, despite the fact that you were horrendously clumsy and on more than one occasion had managed to run into people, drop everything and break things, not that anyone minded. But it always seemed to happen more prominently around Coco and the boys were beginning to notice it happen more frequently when you were around him.

“What are you two up to?” Angel asked, interrupting your thoughts as you shuffled the cards. “Just having a game.” Gilly replied, going on to tell Angel about how he’d totally won the last three rounds, to which Angel snorted in disbelief. It was another moment before you even realised that Coco was there, he’d not said a word, but you looked up to deal the cards between you, only to see him eyeing you over Gilly’s shoulder and you fumbled with the cards, some of the deck falling from your hands and spilling over the table and scattering everywhere while you attempted to keep them together.

“Oh jesus- fucking- hi Coco.” You managed to squeak out, Gilly trying so hard to contain his laughter as Angel gathered up the cards that had dropped to the floor and you felt the heat of embarrassment surge through you as you shuffled the cards back into a stack. “Hey corazón.” Coco responded with a light chuckle at your sudden bout of clumsiness and you felt yourself melt at the name he used for you, hoping it wasn’t too obvious how shy and embarrassed you were.

“I’ll get some beer.” Coco announced, throwing you a smile as he walked away. “How long is this gonna go on for? I can’t deal with you goin’ all butter fingers whenever you just fucking look at him.” Angel hissed, though he was far too amused by it all to actually be annoyed and you desperately wanted the ground to swallow you whole. “Everyone knows you love him.” Angel told you and your eyes went wide. “I’m pretty sure even Coco knows.” He chuckled and you felt even more nervous about saying anything. “Shut the fuck up, man. Don’t listen to Angel, hermana.” Gilly said, lightly whacking him on the arm. “You gotta tell Coco-.” “Tell me what?” Coco cut in as he came back with some bottles and you slid down a little in your seat. “Oh, our little hermana here-.” “Thinks it’s ridiculous that you’ve never had cotton candy before.” Gilly interrupted Angel, kicking him under the table and you gave him a thankful smile before shooting daggers at Angel who looked far too pleased with himself. “What?” Angel asked, giving you a mischievous grin.

Coco just looked at you with a raised brow, evidently not believing it one bit and you quickly reached for your drink, hoping at the very least that occupying yourself with the bottle would distract you a bit. Coco lit himself a cigarette and toked it a couple of times before taking a full draw of his smoke, reaching for his beer.

“So what about that fair outside of town this weekend?” Gilly asked. “I’m down, I need a change of fucking scenery.” Angel nodded. “Coco?” Gilly asked as you took a sip from your bottle. He shrugged, looking at the two men with indifference. “Hey, c’mon man, remember last time with the photobooth?” Angel nudged him, winking. “Shut up, carnal.” Coco rolled his eyes, taking a puff from his cigarette as Gilly snorted. “The fabled tale of Coco gettin’ loco with not one, but two girls in a fuckin’ photobooth.” Angel said, speaking as if it was some kind of epic tale, when really, it was more of a half drunk escapade that Coco barely remembered a wink of, apart from maybe the tale end of a two girl blowjob.

“You comin’ hermana?” Gilly asked, completely changing the subject and you looked between the three men, giving them a look of uncertainty. “I don’t know guys, you’re just gonna abandon me in the teacups again.” You pouted, Gilly and Angel immediately erupting into laughter at the memory from last year.

Coco huffed as he listened to the conversation. He didn’t care about finding girls to have a little fun with at the fair, if anything, he was more interested in something else, not that he was going to make that known, especially not with Angel and Gilly around.

Coco leaned over, draping his arm around the back of your chair. “I’ll go if you go, corazón.” He whispered in your ear and you instantly felt yourself burn up from his close proximity and the way he said those words, deep, enticing, but somehow still sweet and soft. Angel and Gilly too were far too wrapped up in retelling stories of their last trip to a fair to pay any attention to Coco’s actions and you swallowed heavily, glancing shyly across at him, the Mayan much closer than you had anticipated and as you faced him, eyes almost too timid to meet his, your breaths mingled for a moment with how closely he had leaned in.

“I’ll go.” You responded quietly, voice barely audible, but Coco heard you just fine and your response prompted a big, lopsided smile on his lips and you wondered how you’d even mustered the courage to respond.

“See you there, corazón.” He smirked, leaning back to take the last sip of his beer before he stood up from the table abruptly enough to get the attention of Angel and Gilly.

“Gotta go, got shit to do with Letty.” He said, putting his bottle down on the table. “See you later ‘mano.” Angel waved him off, Gilly eyeing your flustered state and giving you a questioning look as you attempted to pull yourself together.

“You alright hermana?” He asked. “Probably.” You nodded, clearing your throat a little and shifting in your seat, uncomfortable under the questioning looks you were getting from both men before you finally decided to awkwardly say goodbye to your brothers and excuse yourself from the table.

“Tell me I wasn’t the only one who saw that?” Gilly hissed at Angel. “Nah man, I saw the way he looked at her, the way he spoke to her.”

The next day was far too quick to come around and by the time you’d rocked up to the fun fair on the back of Gilly’s bike, you felt like the last day had slipped away from you far faster than you would have liked. It wasn’t that you weren’t looking forward to spending the day with your boys, you were so excited to spend some time with them away from the MC. But your apprehension came more from being afraid that you might fuck things up with Coco. What if you told him how you felt and he rejected you? What if he avoided you? That would crush you, but while you had been nervous about admitting feelings to Coco, all of your brothers knew that the two of you would be perfect together, which was why they were adamant on pushing you both together despite your often silent panic when they did so.

It was early evening as you walked with Gilly over to where Angel was standing in the parking lot, leaning against his bike, waiting impatiently for you both.

“You’re gonna tell Coco today, right?” Angel asked before he even greeted you, pushing away from his bike before approaching you and Gilly. “Oh yeah, it’s real nice to see you too Angel.” Gilly replied in a sarcastic tone, making the taller of the two snort in response. “But you’re gonna, right?” Gilly joined in, turning to look at you as you glanced at the two bikers who stared at you expectantly. “I mean… Maybe?” You answered, hoping it was enough to get them off your back about Coco, but it only seemed to make it worse because Angel was adamant a plan he’d come up with for how you should tell Coco was ‘fool proof’, whatever that implied.

“We’re meeting Coco in the fair, he’s late.” Angel informed you both as Gilly began to lead the group of you across the parking lot towards the entrance booth. “Club shit?” Gilly asked. “Nah, somethin’ to do with Letty.” He shrugged.

You stood with a grin on your lips as you watched Gilly and Angel playfully banter between them as they waited to have a go at winning something at a booth with water pistols and targets.

As you watched, you almost jumped out of your skin when you felt two hands gently grip your shoulders and you barely had time to react before you heard his deep, low voice, quickly relaxing you. “Whoa, relax corizon, s’just me.” Coco spoke softly in your ear. “Coco,” You looked over your shoulder at him with an uncontrollable smile, the biker coming round to your side, his arm staying around your shoulders.

“Sorry I’m late, was making cake with Letty.” Coco told you with a smile. “Don’t tell Angel that.” He added, making you giggle and shake your head. “I won’t, your secret is safe with me.” You replied, voice quiet and soft. Coco looked over at you, his grip on your arm tightening slightly as he caught your gaze, noting how relaxed you looked, how relaxed you felt against him and it brought a warmth to his heart to see you that way.

Angel glanced over his shoulder at Coco and the pair nodded at each other in a silent greeting, Angel smirking as soon as he saw you tucked against Coco’s side with his arm around you before he turned his attention back to the game when it was his and Gilly’s turn.

“Wanna go do shit without those two?” Coco asked. “Gonna have another headache if I gotta babysit them.” He rolled his eyes playfully. “Yeah, I’d like that.” You nodded, letting Coco tug you along with him.

Coco walked you through the fairground, stopping by stalls and booths along the way to play a few games, his smile always doubling in size whenever he heard you giggle, noticing you enjoying yourself in his company. Coco had wanted to spend time with you and talk to you for a while, but no matter how hard he tried, one of the Mayans always seemed to drop themselves into the conversation before he even had a chance to try and ease you out of your shell and give you his full, undivided attention.

And now, as you both found yourself on the furthest side of the fairground, overlooking a beautiful sunset in the distance with a bag of candy floss in Coco’s hand that he shared with you.

It was such a sweet moment, calm and dreamy, the ambience of funfair was soft in the background, the soft, golden glow of the sunset gently casting over the desert horizon.

Coco looked over at you, bathed in golden light, gorgeous with a soft smile on your lips. He felt himself smile uncontrollably as you leaned against his side, his hand finding yours, fingers slowly and gently intertwining.

It felt right, it felt like it was meant to be in the sweet, serene moment you shared together and Coco knew right then and there that he’d found the one for him. You were the one.

“Coco,” It came out as a whisper, warmth filling you when you realised how naturally your hand had fit in his, how wonderful his touch felt against yours. “Yeah, corazón?” He asked, barely above a whisper, his voice low and warm against your ear as he leaned against you.

“I… I’m-.” You cut yourself off with a sigh, eyes cast down at your feet, trying to hide yourself, the feeling of shyness overcame you.

“Hey, take your time, mi estrellita.” Coco hummed softly to you, his voice soothing as you drew in a deep, slow breath. But when you became too shy to respond, he smiled, bringing your hand up to his chest, prompting you to look at him, a bit too timid to hold his gaze fully. “Look at me, mi corazón.” Coco whispered, reaching over to lift your chin with his fingers.

You shared a comfortable moment of silence together, your hand resting against his chest, the background chatter and laughter of the fair adding to the ambience, the sun slowly lowering just enough to leave you bathed in a soft, hazy twilight.

“I know, I know that every time you look at me, you get shy.” Coco said, watching as you tore your gaze away from him quickly. “Hey hey, wait, hold on corazón.” He urged, tugging you back to him gently. “But I get butterflies every time I look at you, I get this fuckin’ uncontrollable smile whenever I see you lookin’ at me ‘cause fuck, ma, you drive me crazy.” He smiled to himself, his eyes lighting up as he spoke openly about how he felt.

“It drives me fuckin’ crazy whenever I think about you, I think ‘bout all this shit I wanna do with you, shit I’ve never wanted to do with anyone before.” He confessed, both of his hands holding yours to his chest as he spoke and you couldn’t help but look at him and wonder if you weren’t just dreaming. “Really?” You managed to get out. “Yeah, I can’t get’chu outta my mind.” Coco grinned, leaning down to press a kiss to the back of your hands.

“I wanna take you on a date, wanna make you happy in every way I can, in every way possible ‘cause you deserve nothin’ less.” He paused, drawing in a deep breath before his eyes met yours. “Will you let me do that? Will you let me make you my girl?” He asked softly, watching as you smiled, shyly nodding, a little taken aback by his sweet words.

“I’d love that, Coco.” You said, almost in a whisper, but Coco met you with a bright grin before he leaned in and gently pressed a kiss to your cheek.

“Mi estrellita.” He whispered, pulling you against his chest and holding you close, embracing you gently, his heart fluttering, feeling on top of the world, because Coco got his girl.

He found the one.

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twistedtummies2 · 3 years ago

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The Mad Doctor of Night Raven (Commission)

Another commission; this is from the same person who created Tock Crockwork and Caelyum in past stories. This time, we introduce another OC of theirs: Xavier Madoc, based on The Mad Doctor from Epic Mickey. This is also my first time properly writing for Idia and Ortho! :D

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“You sure this is everything you need, me hearties?”

“Nya! It better be! Some of this is heavy!” You smirked as you adjusted the box of electronic equipment in your arms. You checked on your companions, who were carrying similar boxes. To your right strolled Grim, the fire-eared, trident-tailed, cat-like imp. He was carrying a very small box - fitting for his size - while yours was more medium sized. A box matching the size of yours was in the arms of your more human comrade: a tall, slender young man with long, fuschia-colored dreadlocks, dressed all in brown. “Thanks for the help, Cael,” you said to him gratefully. Caelyum De Macabre shrugged cheerily. “Don’t mention it!” he chuckled. “For one thing, helping you get this stuff was part of my job at the Mystery Shop. Sam prides himself on having everything; if I couldn’t find something like all this, he might dock my pay.” “Would he?” you blinked. “Probably not, but he MIGHT,” huffed Cael. “And as for carrying some of this…” His smile became more bashful. “...I owe you both. If it weren’t for you all...I might not have been able to reconcile with Mia.” “How is she, by the way?” you asked, tilting your head, then smirked teasingly. “Have you proposed yet?” “Well...um...yes and no?” chuckled Cael, pausing to flick a stray dreadlock out of his face before continuing. “We had a talk about that, actually, and...we decided it would be best to wait to get married till after I finished school.” “Well, as soon as you have your wedding, make sure you guys send me and Grim an invite!” Cael nodded to say he would, then both of you paused as you heard a sort of growly groan come from Grim. “Having trouble, Little Monster?” Cael asked, tilting his own head this time. “I wish people would stop calling me that,” grumbled the imp, and continued to march onward, tail flicking angrily behind him as the blue flames in his ears crackled faintly. “I’ve got it. The Great Grim won’t be defeated by a box!” He paused, blinked, then mumbled: “That’s something I didn’t think I’d say today…” Both yourself and Caelyum snickered.

“Why’d the otaku guy ask for all this, anyway?” Cael asked as the three of you continued on. “It’s for the science expo!” Grim said. “Science expo?” frowned Caelyum. “Idia’s final exam,” you nodded, and explained: “Crowley is holding a science expo here in a couple of weeks, and Idia has to create something for it for one of his classes.” “Well...cool, but why are YOU guys getting it?” “Because the thought of leaving his room multiple times to take multiple trips nearly made Idia have a heart attack,” you answered, dryly. Cael blinked...then sighed. “Yeah,” he muttered. “From what little I’ve seen of Shroud, that sounds about right.” “I hope he appreciates the help,” huffed Grim, and bounced the box of equipment in his little arms as he continued to march forward, moving ahead of you both. “It’s not easy hauling all this from the Mystery Shop all the way Igni-YIPE!” Grim let out a shrill yelp, and fell back onto his bunce; he’d bumped into something, which hit the floor with a crash. The box full of equipment fell to the ground. Yourself and Cael quickly but carefully put down your own boxes and hurried to gather the fallen items and inspect them swiftly, while Grim growled and rubbed his sore haunches. “Nothing’s damaged,” Cael sighed with relief. “Are you alright, Grim?” you asked. “No,” pouted Grim. “My dignity is wounded, and it’s hard keeping it intact as it is.” You smirked affectionately. “Oh my gosh!” exclaimed a new voice. “Are you okay?!” The three of you looked up to see a new figure rushing towards you all. The figure was a young man, dressed in the black-and-blue, informal, leather-jacket-clad dorm costume of Ignihyde. His skin was pale, and he had moppish hair, which had been dyed mint green with blue tips. His eyes were heterochromatic, and similarly colored: one was emerald, the other cobalt. He was somewhat gangly in build, yet handsome in features. “Nya...I’m not hurt, if that’s what you mean,” Grim muttered out, stumbling back onto his hindpaws and dusting off his fur. “I wasn’t talking to you!” the young man snapped, catching Grim off-guard...then knelt down to what Grim had bumped into. “Abe! Abe, are you okay?” The figured Grim had bumped into, you soon realized, was a robot. It was dressed like a porter, and - in contrast to the synthetic skin and almost fully human appearance of Ortho Shroud - had a decidedly mechanical, industrial look: all metal plates and gear-twisting joints. Its face was mask-like, with two yellow lamps for eyes. The robot shook its head with a whirring noise, as if to clear it, then the mute bot - it had no mouth - nodded to the young Ignihyde student. The mint-eyed boy sighed with relief, and smiled at the bot as if it were an old friend, patting its shoulder. Then, he glared at Grim almost childishly. “Why don’t you watch where you’re going?!” the lad snapped. “Me?!” snapped Grim, stomping one foot angrily, ear-fire flaring up. “Your stupid robot was the one who bumped into me!” The green-and-blue-haired youth gasped, looking deeply offended, and hugged Abe close. “Don’t listen to the mean little raccoon, Abe,” he crooned to the bot, stroking the back of its head like it was his child. “You’re perfect just the way you are.” “I AM NOT A RACCOON!” screamed Grim. “I don’t even LOOK like one; why does everyone keep calling me that?!” The student from Ignihyde was too busy fawning over his robot like it was a spoiled child to answer. The robot squirmed, its yellow eyes flickering; you got the feeling that if a machine had the power to blush, Abe would have been doing so from all the attention. Grim pouted and grumbled while yourself and Caelyum stepped closer to address the newcomer, who helped the robot to its feet. The machine called Abe clattered and clanked a bit as the young man pulled a screwdriver out of his pocket and began to check over the mechanical wonder’s form. “Buddy, I keep telling you, you have to make sure to look both ways,” whispered the young scientist. “Maybe some of your circuits need rewiring; it’s like your memory bank has a hole or two in it somewhere. Tch. My fault for using-” “Excuse me,” you spoke up. “Who are you?” The Ignihyde student looked to you...then smiled. “Oh, hey there!” he said, waving with the hand that held the screwdriver. “Name’s Xavier. Xavier Madoc, if you, ah, wanna get all formal and stuff, heh. I’m a, uh, first year here in the dorm. I was just taking my buddy Abe here for a tour around the campus!” He patted his robot’s back; Abe stumbled forward, and rubbed his arm, looking a little nervous as he nodded to you in greeting. Sensing the AI’s anxiety, you gave a disarming smile of your own and bowed your head in return. This seemed to make Abe perk up a bit. “Nice to meet you both,” you said. “Speak for yourself,” mumbled Grim. “Hey, not Abe’s fault you’re an imperfect specimen of biology,” frowned Xavier. Before either yourself or Grim could point out Abe was clearly not a perfect machine, either, Xavier’s eyes lit up with recognition as he noticed the other member of the party. “Oh, it’s you again! Kale, yeah?” “Cael,” De Macabre corrected, with a mild smile. “Is this your presentation for the science expo?” “Pffft! Oh-ho, yeah, like...c’mon. Making artificial life? That’s, like, SO twenty years ago,” Xavier snorted. “Nope! I’ve got somethin’ a whole lot bigger in mind! It’s gonna REALLY put me on the map!” “After how much all those parts cost you, I should hope so,” mumbled Caelyum. “Hold on, back up,” you said, giving a “time out” gesture. “The two of you know each other?” “Only peripherally,” admitted the shopkeeper’s aid. “Just like you guys, I helped Xavier pick out some items for his project.”

“Cool,” you commented. “They work perfectly, by the way!” Xavier butted in, and then giddlily clapped his hands. “Ohhhh, this is gonna Rock. The. World. Like, if there was a world, and my new invention could hold it, it would just…” He made explosive noises as he mimed shaking something in his hands, then puffed them out with a long, whining “Aaaaaah!” noise. “...That would be it,” he declared, grinning from ear to ear. “Nothing is gonna top this one, nothing!” “Well, you seem pretty confident,” you chuckled. “Trust me, if there’s one thing I know...well, actually, I know, like, a lot of things, I guess?” Xavier frowned, turning his eyes heavenward as he counted on his fingers. “I mean, there’s, like mechanical engineering, alchemy, anatomy, welding, potion making, computer science...basically, yeah, if there’s one thing I can do, it’s how to make something awesome. With SCIENCE!” The last word was spoken with great melodrama, complete with Xavier lifting one hand theatrically, throwing his head back with pride and puffing out his chest arrogantly. Abe seemed to roll his eyes at his creator’s hammy attitude. “I wouldn’t get too cocky,” Cael said warningly, as he stepped back to lift his box up off the floor. “Yeah! Especially with all this to contend with,” Grim grinned a little smugly, picking his own box back up as well. Xavier frowned as he saw you lift the third and final box, now looking both curious and perhaps borderline suspicious. “Yeah, about that...what’s with all the toys?” he said, pointing to the box with a slight frown, as if the items within were beneath him. “Is there, like, a kid entering the expo, or are you cleaning out trash…?” You blinked, and the three in your party shared looks. The strange part about that comment was it didn’t sound like it was meant to be an insult. Xavier seriously seemed to see the tools in the boxes as inferior. “These are for Idia. Your dorm head,” you said, slowly. Xavier’s eyes widened, and so did his smile. “Oh! Oh, COOL! So, wait, holdupholdupholdup...you’re saying Idia Shroud - THE Idia Shroud - is gonna come outta his hideout and tussle with the muscle at the contest?” “That’s...one way of putting it, yep,” you answered unsteadily. “That’s TERRIFIC!” Xavier exclaimed, clapping his hands and bouncing on his heels with giddy delight. Abe tilted his head with curiosity, and Xavier, noticing the robot’s reaction, decided to explain. “When I beat Idia, that’ll be, like, the best thing ever!” Madoc told Abe. “I can finally show just how perfect and brilliant my machines are! Abe, it’s gonna be DA BOMB! HA HA HA!” Xavier cackled with almost unhinged delight, pumping his fists. Abe turned his lamplike eyes towards your group. You see what I have to put up with? he seemed to be saying. “Be wary,” Caelyum warned. “You shouldn’t underestimate Shroud: he’s dorm head for a reason. He literally made his own brother, you know; have you made anything that impressive before?” Xavier looked to Cael...and his smile fell. A sudden coldness came over his expression, and his eyes narrowed. “Are you saying my machines aren’t impressive?” he whispered, his voice lowering an octave. “No, I don’t think he’s saying that at all!” you interrupted, sensing the tension and wanting to cut it short. “Just...um...Idia’s not half bad either, you know.” Xavier smirked, but his eyes were still glittering like emerald daggers. “Hmph. He may be dorm head, but he’s got nothing on The Madoc,” Xavier boasted, jabbing a thumb at himself...then, his eyes brightened, and his whole being became exuberant once more. “Hey! Hey, you should totally come see the expo! All of you! That’d be great!” “Then we could see you win, huh?” you smirked right back, already sensing his thoughts. “Well...or see the others lose,” he said with a sinister laugh. “Your choice of how you wanna word it.” “Nya...that seems a jerky way to put it,” grumbled Grim, but no one paid attention to him. “Well, Crowley is probably gonna ask us to do something there anyways, with his track record,” you muttered. “I wouldn’t be surprised if we saw you there.” “Perfect,” smiled Xavier, then cocked his head innocently. “Uh...right, I, ah...yeah, just realized I never got who YOU were?” You gave your name quickly. “I’m Prefect of the Ramshackle Dorm,” you explained, and pointed to Grim. “This is Grim.” “Aww...nice that your dorm allows pets.” Grim looked like he was pondering the many ways he coil make life excruciatingly painful for Xavier Madoc. “Why do you say that?” Cael spoke up. “Does yours not?” “Honestly, I dunno,” shrugged Xavier. “I’ve never had a pet. Never wanted one, really.” He tapped Abe on the chest; the robot - who had been staring off at something on a wall - jumped at the clanking on his abdomen. “I just deal with machines,” he said. “Pets are so...fussy. And unpredictable. You have to feed them and clean up their mess...my machines are clean and easy to handle. A machine can’t leave you or get sick; if there’s a malfunction, just a touch of oil or a twist of a wrench, and it’s all fixed, usually! And, hey, if something breaks, I can just rebuild it!” Abe looked hurt. “Oh, not you, buddy,” Xavier chuckled, patting his metal shoulder. “You’re irreplaceable.” Abe seemed to smile, but since he had no visible lips, you couldn’t tell. “I think it’s a good thing to have pets,” Caelyum argued, then gave a joking smile. “Maybe you should buy a lab rat or something?” Xavier shuddered. “Right, and be around animals AND people? Thanks, I think I’ll pass.” “And you were teasing Idia about leaving HIS hideout?” Grim taunted. Xavier glared at him. “I’m not scared of people,” he protested. “I just...don’t like crowds. I don’t like most people, either.” “You seem to be chatting easily with us,” you observed. “Well...yeah, but…no offense, I’m not gonna be inviting you to my lab anytime soon,” Xavier smiled weakly. “I like my privacy, that’s all.” You weren’t quite sure how to respond to that. “Speaking of,” Xavier went on, without waiting to see if you WOULD respond, “I gotta get back to work: I’ve gotta work out some clibrations for my new invention, then maybe see about modifying Abe’s storage banks, not to mention figuring out a few blueprints for future projects…” “Jeeze, don’t you do anything fun?!” Grim exclaimed. “Science IS fun,” huffed Xavier, sticking his nose up snootily. “And I don’t see a reason to stand here and be insulted by a furball.” While Grim sputtered, offended, Xavier looked to Abe. “Come, my friend!” he called out, theatrically. “Back to the laboratory!” Abe saluted, and he and his creator turned on their heels before marching away. The metallic footsteps of the robot echoed down the hall for several seconds after they vanished from sight. “I don’t like him,” grumbled Grim. “We gathered that,” Caelyum smirked. “He seems...eccentric,” you murmured, then shook your head. “Then again, I guess it’d be hard to find anybody at this school who ISN’T at least a little bit odd.” “He seemed like a good sort to me,” Cael nodded, then frowned thoughtfully. “Perhaps a bit too sure of himself for his own good...not to mention a little too antisocial…” “Hey, I’ve dealt with Idia; trust me, that was nothing on the antisocial level,” you scoffed, as the three of you went down a side passage and headed off to find Idia’s room. “That’s not quite what I mean,” mumbled Caelyum, and then went on, aloud. “You know the donation jar at the Mystery Shop?” “You mean for the Medical Center?” “Yeah,” Cael said. “He didn’t donate anything. That’s not surprising, I guess, and it wouldn’t have really bothered me at all - donations from customers are hit and miss, always - but when I asked him if he’d like to make a donation, his response was…unsettling.” “Nya?” Grim meowed, one ear flicking with curiosity. “And what did he say?” “He said, ‘Sorry, but there are too many people out there to worry about the sick ones.’” You blinked...then scowled. “Okay...that’s...not very nice...and a little confusing,” you murmured. “Yeah,” Caelyum said. “The weirdest part was he then started rambling about the machines in the Medical Center. He seemed more interested in how the machines worked than what they actually did to help people.” You glanced back over your shoulder. Now, you were starting to feel worried. A person that strange, that obsessed, and that sure of his own superiority… ...Suddenly, Xavier’s eccentricities were starting to take a more sinister undercurrent. “Let’s just forget about him,” snorted Grim. “Come on, the scaredy-cat’s waiting!” “Right,” you muttered, then shook your head to clear it, and picked up the pace, this time taking the lead yourself. “Come on, you two...if Idia’s going to have any shot at that science expo - Madoc or no Madoc - he’ll need these parts.’

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Several weeks later, the science expo at Night Raven College commenced. Various students from across the campus were readying their inventions and projects. You had been right, of course: the Headmaster had, indeed, demanded that you attend the expo. As custodians, your job was to help those preparing their experiments, and to clean up any messes that might come up. By some miracle, not a drop of an acid, nor a bit of any base, had yet to stain the floor, and nothing solid had broken. Of course, that could change at any time, so yourself and Grim wandered around the expo, peeking at different experiments on display. A lot of what was being shown you didn’t fully understand - science had never been your strongest point - and, truth be told, the majority of the students involved were not ones you knew personally. There were, however, two familiar faces you were hoping to see. “Nya...where are the Shrouds?” meowed Grim, flicking his tail from side to side and blinking his big blue-green eyes up at you. “Shouldn’t Idia and Ortho have set up their panel already.” “Yeah, they should have,” you nodded. “Maybe they just didn’t get things ready in time?” “Not the way I heard it.” The voice caught your attention, and both yourself and Grim smiled as you saw who it belonged to. “Oh, Cael! So you came here after all, huh?” you grinned. “Yup. I actually invited Mia, but she couldn’t make it; some kind of royal business,” the shopkeeper’s assistant shrugged. “I wanted to see how the items Sam and I sold were being used, so I asked him if I could get out of my job at the Mystery Shop a few hours early to check things out.” “I see. I’m sorry to hear Mia couldn’t make it,” you said, sympathetically. Caelyum smiled gently. “For years I lived without her,” he said, faintly. “Even if we’re not together, my heart will always be with her...and hers with mine…” “Ugh...gag me,” sneered Grim. “You don’t have to make it sound so dramatic, you know; you’re a bigger ham than the guys at Pomefiore!” Cael blushed and you giggled. “Anyway...Ortho told me he and Idia had finished their work,” Caelyum informed you and the imp. “They actually have it stored here at the hall, since they felt that would make it easier for transport and setup.” “That’s strange, then. Even Idia usually isn’t late for these things,” you murmured, looking a little concerned. “He’s not?” Cael asked, curiously. “I would have thought, with his reputation, he would try his hardest to avoid them.” “Well, Idia usually has Ortho attend the Dorm Leader Meetings - and other events - and then uses his computer to do a voice stream from his room,” you explained. “That way he can make his presentations without having to face the crowds directly. There should be no reason for at least one of them to not be-” “Excuse me! Pardon me! Coming through! Thank you!” “Idon’twannagoIdon’twannagoIdon’twannagohelphelphelp…!” Grim turned around fast at the sound of the familiar voices, and tugged on your leg, pointing in the direction they were coming from. Both you and Cael quickly looked in the direction he had indicated, and saw the crowd of students and helpful staff members parting… ...Revealing the form of Ortho Shroud, who all but skipped merrily along through the campus convention hall where the expo was being held, dragging along what looked like an enormous black-and-blue bag. You quickly realized the “enormous bag” was really Idia Shroud, who was lying belly down on the floor. His dead-white hands were holding up his hoodie in a steel-knuckled grip, while his glowing blue, ethereal hair spilled across the floor from under it. Ortho noticed your group soon enough; his cybernetic eyes widened, and he waved, trotting over to three of you. You looked to Caelyum, who was staring bug-eyed, stunned by the bizarre tableaux. You had to admit, it said something that, somehow, you were a lot less weirded out. “Hi ya, Prefect!” Ortho chirped in his electronic way, as he stopped a few feet away from your trio. You could see that, now at a standstill, Idia was shaking like a leaf. “Uhhhh...hi,” you greeted awkwardly. “Nya! Why are you two so late?” Grim grimaced. “And what exactly is going on?” Cael asked, sounding like he was trying not to shout that out in confusion. “Oh! Well, um, Big Brother’s thingamajig that he uses for remote conference? It, uh...kinda had a malfunction,” Ortho said, an embarrassed smile flickering behind the mask-like apparatus on his android face. “Malfunction?” the three of you repeated, looking at each other, and then back at Ortho. “Yeah,” Ortho said, and scratched the back of his head. “My brother convinced a stray cat into our room so he could give it some food...but when he tried to snuggle it, it bolted back out the window, and knocked the device off a table and onto the floor. We...didn’t have time to fix it.” A keening whine from Idia made it hard from you to determine if you should laugh or just feel sorry for the poor, anxious noble son. “Yeesh...and that’s what all this is about, huh?” “Yep!” Ortho siad, cheerily. “Big Brother still has to attend his final for the class, after all! So I made sure to get him here with enough time to set up shop!” Ortho’s chest was puffed out with pride; you swore, if he had a tail, it would have been wagging like a puppy’s. You couldn’t help but smile, even as Grim and Cael both rolled their eyes, crossing their arms over their chests. “Well, good job, Ortho; that’s being responsible!” you said, and playfully patted the boy-like droid’s head; you would never understand how that fire-like hair DIDN’T burn your fingers, but no matter. “I’m sure once he’s done having a panic attack, he’ll be proud of you.” Ortho giggled happily and his eyes crinkled with another sweet “smile.” You now turned your attention to Idia, as Ortho released his leg. The instant, Idia felt his leg being let go, he stopped shaking and froze. Slowly, he rolled onto his back...and huge amber yellow eyes, glowing like warning lights, peered out from behind the hoodie. Idia took one look at the crowd in the hall, and the faces looking at him...and squeaked like a mouse before hiding his face. He clumsily tried to get to his feet and run away...only to let out a shrill, strangled sound as he tripped on his own feet and fell over. Ortho let out an “eep!” and rushed to catch hold of his brother before the computer genius could eat tile. “Nervous, Idia?” Grim drawled with a smirk. Cael couldn’t help but chuckle as Idia whimpered with terror, quivering once again. “P-People,” came Idia’s voice behind his hood. “Too...t-too many people...please...t-take me back to my room...I-I’d rather watch the English dubbing of Ghost Stories than do this…heck, I’d rather play Iron Gear: Survive than be here...!” “Not till you finish your presentation,” Ortho said. “Come on, Big Brother! Show everybody how cool you are!” “I don’t wanna be cool!” Idia nearly sobbed. “Please, not this! Not…” He gulped and nearly choked on the next words. “...T-Talking to people...having them judge me...no, no, not that…” Idia shook his head behind his hood stubbornly. Ortho looked at you helplessly. You sighed and knelt down to Idia’s level. You cautiously reached out to the trembling socially anxious scientist, who whimpered as he felt your hands brush against him, and curled up tightly, as if afraid of being struck. With a sympathetic smile, you carefully parted his hands and pulled down his hood. His face now fully exposed to the outside world, Idia blinked his giant yellow eyes at you with real fear. His dark lips were trembling, and you swore those golden irises were getting a little misty as he looked on the verge of crying with fear. You could hear his shark-like teeth chattering as if winter had come early that year. “Idia,” you said softly, “It’s got to be done, and you’re the only one who can do it.” “Why is that?” peeped Idia, childishly. “Because it’s YOUR creation, Idia,” you said, with an encouraging smile. “No one knows it better than you do.” “Yeah! It’s not like we can talk about all this science-y junk!” Grim broke in...then subsided when Idia reacted by looking hurt, while Ortho gave him an almost murderous glare. “The presentation only has to be a few minutes long,” Cael thought to put in helpfully. “A few SECONDS is too much!” Idia said, and hurried to try and hide his face again...but you prevented it with your hands as you carefully held his wrists. His black-nailed fingers twitched with mortal dread as he looked into your earnest, honest eyes. “Idia, does Ortho know anything about the project?” “Well...n-no, not enough to tell them everything,” Idia admitted, squirming uncomfortably and almost guiltily, like a child admitting he’d stolen five cookies from the cookie jar. “Is there anybody else who could give the presentation on your behalf, with the knowledge you have?” Idia blinked. Those last few words seemed to have stirred something in his breast, and he looked at you anew, blinking a few times, as realization dawned on his pale face. “...No...I guess not,” he said, softly. “Well then?” you urged, tenderly, raising one eyebrow. Idia bit his lip; his sharp teeth almost drew blood. (Almost.) “...But...b-but I’m scared,” he cheeped out, like a wounded baby bird. It took all your willpower not to kiss his forehead. How could a denizen of the Underworld be so friggin’ cute?! “It’s okay to be scared,” you assured him. “Being brave means doing things even though you are scared.” “No, being brave means enduring unpleasant situations without showing fear,” Idia droned. “That’s literally in the dictionary.” “And how brave do you think the Lord of the Underworld was when he fought the Mighty Hercules?” “A lot braver than I am!” Idia replied, without missing a beat, and promptly hid his face again, rolling onto his side, like a child refusing to get out of bed. “I’m not doing it!” You bit your own lip, and looked around awkwardly. A LOT of people were staring, and that was only going to make Idia feel worse. You had to pacify this quickly. “Mr. Shroud.” You blinked up at Caelyum, who knelt down beside you with a reassuring smile of his own. Idia peeked out of his hoodie timidly. “Wh-What?” “Once this is over, I’d be happy to give you a free Jumbo Jar of Jelly Babies from the Mystery Shop as a reward for your efforts,” Cael offered. Idia’s eyes went wide at the mention of so much candy. “...F-Free?” “Yes,” Cael nodded. “I’ll just put my own money back into the shop to make up the expense. BUT,” he said, in a stern, almost parental tone, holding up one finger, “You have to at least try to make your presentation first.” Idia licked his lips, but he still looked uncertain. “...What if they don’t like my creation, though?” he whispered, shivering a little. “They’ll love it, Big Brother!” Ortho declared. “It’s the best thing ever! You’re so smart, it has to be!” “And all three of us,” you thought to add, “Will be there. Myself, Cael, and Grim: we’ll be watching and cheering you on.” Idia squirmed again. “...The watching part I could live without, but…” Finally, at long last...he gave a scared, small, hesitant smile. “...The cheering part...I-I’d appreciate it,” he chuckled, and seemed to perk up a bit. “And, h-hey...I get lots of candy out of it, yeah?” “Sugary gummies galore,” winked Caelyum. Idia paused once more, and took a deep breath, before finally relenting: “F-Fine...I’ll...I’ll try not to screw up...” “That’s the spirit, Brother!” cheered Ortho joyously, and helped Idia to his feet. Idia gave a nervous nod to his brother, then gave you a shy wave and a smile that showed just a hint of his pointed teeth, as the young android led him away to another part of the hall. Both yourself and Caelyum stood to your full heights and sighed with relief. “Sam’s gonna kill me,” he mumbled. “He gets pretty strict with inventory; I think it’s the con-man in him…” “Just don’t make a deal with him, and you’ll be fine,” Grim giggled. “You know, maybe another incentive we could have used was a chance for ‘snuggle time’ with a certain ‘Little Monster,’” you said, airily, giving Grim a teasing smile. The cat-like little beast blushed bright red, and his ears flared up. “Th-That’s not funny, Minion!” he snapped, huffishly, while Cael chortled merrily at the thought. Just then, another laugh was heard from the far end of the hall; you recognized it instantly. “Xavier?” you murmured, remembering the strange scientist from a few weeks ago. “Sounds like the judging has begun,” Caelyum remarked, as he noticed a group of official-looking gentlemen, along with some students, gathered in the area. “Nya! Let’s go see what’s up!” Grim suggested, and loped off on all fours to do exactly that. You and Caelyum shrugged to each other, and followed at a casual pace. You soon came to the panel hosted by Xavier. To one side stood Abe, who had traded out his porter’s costume for a buttoned-up labcoat...although, amusing, he still wore his porter’s cap upon his head. The mechanical man’s mask-like, expressionless, featureless face somehow still managed to look rather bashful as he waved shyly at the mob that now surrounded the corner spot. It was Xavier Madoc himself, however, who most arrested your attention. He stood in front of a table, over which was draped a light gray table cloth...and on top of that was a large, oddly-shaped...something. No one could tell what, exactly, for a second tablecloth - also colored gray - was covering it. Xavier was dressed in a long labcoat, which stretched past his knees and halfway down his shins. Underneath this, the eccentric inventor wore blue jeans and white tennis shoes; the former was held up by a peculiar teal-colored belt. A light gray midriff shirt, with black pinstripes, was perhaps the weirdest part of his ensemble; emblazoned on his chest, upon this shirt, was an unusual design: a black-stenciled image that, on one side, resembled a skull, while the other side resembled a clockwork gear, the two parts meshed together unsettlingly. With his wild, wide grin and the way he bowed to the crowd - more like a circus ringmaster than a distinguished scholar - one couldn’t help but find him a most uncommon figure. “Ladies and gentlemen...and undecided!” he greeted, and laughed at his own joke (no one else did, but he didn’t seem to care) before continuing: “Allow me to introduce myself: I am Xavier Madoc! Also, allow me to introduce my trusty counterpart, Abe! His name stands for Assistant Bot Extraordinaire. Yeah, ha, not the most, uh...SCIENTIFIC name I could’ve come up with, but what can I say? I liked the acronym.” Abe rolled his electronic eyes and nodded to the judges, who nodded back before refocusing on Xavier, who rubbed his eyes as he moved to the opposite side of the table from Abe. “Friends and colleagues of science, let us talk about emotions, shall we?” he began, still speaking in an almost carnival-esque tone of voice, which made Cael roll his eyes and scoff. “He sounds almost like Sam at times,” the Swamplands native mumbled. You and Grim smiled at him, then looked back at Xavier as he began his spiel. “Emotions are a fickle thing,” Madoc said, lifting a finger in emphasis. “Emotions can be our strength, but they can also be our weakness. What a beautiful world it would be if we could all be logical, without those...pesky things like jealousy or greed to spur us in the wrong direction. Even here, in a school of black magic, love is just as revered as vengeance. There is a reason, of course...two, really. One, I would argue, is human frailty. We cannot help ourselves; we are, very tragically, made to be feeling creatures more often than thinkers. But another is perhaps more practical, in this particular world...and that, my friends, is that we need it as fuel. Magic is a powerful entity in our world, arguably more than science, and while it is not uncommon for the two to mesh together, no one has found a way to properly harness the power of the human spirit that allows our magic to work. Well, my friends...I, Xavier Madoc, have found the solution to that quandary!” So saying, Xavier through out both arms in a grand gesture and sang out: “TA-DA!” Silence. Nothing happened. The judges and the crowd just stared at Xavier awkwardly. Xavier blinked, then looked to Abe, who was looking around the room blithely. He frowned and whistled, getting the droid’s attention. “Abe,” he said, and pointed to the table. “You’ll want to take off the tablecloth on that cue, ‘kay, buddy?” Abe nodded, and scooted closer to the table. “Thank you,” whispered Xavier, and tried again, louder: “TA-DA!” A horrible grinding sound was heard as Abe grabbed the tablecloth on the table, nearly knocking over the item under the second veil as he gave it a tug. Xavier yelped for him to stop, and swooped in just in time to right the object before it could crash to the floor. You forced yourself not to laugh; Grim and Caelyum were not inclined to do the same. “So much for ‘the perfection of machines,’ huh?” the fluffy little imp whispered. “Hush!” you scolded...but internally, you conceded he had a point. Abe shuffled sheepishly as Xavier brushed his mint-and-cerulean bangs from his face and gave him an impatient, toothy smile. The dark doctor-in-training could hear some of the crowd snickering, and he hated it. “Not THAT tablecloth,” he said through clenched teeth, and pointed to the device under the covering. “THIS tablecloth. Got it?” Abe nodded, looking like a scared child. “Thank you,” Xavier sighed in frustration, and took a deep breath before trying one more time: “TA-DA!” Finally, Abe swirled off the right tablecloth with great panache. Underneath it was unveiled a strange machine, about the size and shape of the average backpack. Most of it was covered in white leather, but several mechanical apparatuses were jutting from it. Among these were two large copper tanks on either side, several steel cylinders, and two long tubes of tough, transparent rubber, which led from one of the sets of caps into the copper tanks. Two beige-colored leather straps were attached, and it was into these straps that Xavier slipped his long, lanky arms, putting the strange pack on his back. “Introducing my newest invention!” Xavier declared with a beaming, proud smile. “The Emotion Reservoir Power Converter - or ERPC, if you want to shorten it. We can’t all have cool acronyms like Abe, heh...ANYWAY! I would argue that negative emotions have more importance here than positive ones: Blot is the result of an overabundance of black magic use, and much of dark wizardry involves the channeling of negative power. The ERPC can drain small doses of negative emotional energy directly from the subject, and then convert them into magical energy, without the user suffering a state of Overblot!” “Can you give us a demonstration?” one of the judges spoke up. He was a portly man, with spectacles perched upon a crooked nose. “I hoped you would ask that, Dr. Alcott,” Xavier answered with a Devil-May-Care wink, then looked to his robotic companion. “Abe? The book, please!” The robot nodded, and reached into the folds of his labcoat, before handing his creator a small book with a bright pink cover. On it was the title “Princess Pony and the Island of Fluffy Squirrels,” by Lorina Faustus. Xavier blushed bright red and swatted at Abe, who hurriedly put the book away while giggles and chuckles once again came from the audience. “I told you not to…! THE OTHER BOOK, ABE!” Abe quickly fished a second book out: this was a black leatherbound volume with the image of a galaxy festooning its front. Xavier took it and sighed, shaking his head before flipping to a bookmarked page. “Here,” he declared, pointing at the page in question and tapping it with a finger, “Is an excellent example. Keep in mind, gentlemen and ladies, I am but a first year here. The spell I’m about to perform is typically a fourth-year level spell, and I have taken no classes on the subject. Should you wish for confirmation of this later, simply consult the members of the staff on standby today.” Xavier thus cleared his throat, and lifted one hand, extending his thin fingers towards the ceiling before mumbling the incantation in the book. He closed his eyes, furrowing his brow and gritting his teeth, trying to concentrate...his fingers clawed as he flexed them, arm trembling as he forced all the power he could muster into his spellcasting… A dim, murky cloud of purple - shapeless and formless - hovered over the heads of the judges. Specks and blotches of many hues, like splatters of watercolor on a half-burned piece of parchment, appeared and disappeared...before, finally, Xavier gasped and relinquished the attempt, and the colors all faded, the cloud dissipating in an instant. “Haaaaah...a-as you can...ahem...as you can s-see,” Xavier gasped out, wiping some sweat from his brow. “That was hardly an easy task, gentleman...and hardly a good demonstration of that spell. Thankfully, my new invention can allow me to ‘upgrade’ my abilities, through use of my Unique Magic…” He lifted his left hand, the one that he had first used to try and enact the spell, and flexed his fingers as he recited his magic words. “...Paint & Thinner.” There was a flash of turquoise-toned light...and suddenly, Xavier’s left arm had undergone a startling and somewhat disquieting transformation. The fingers and thumb of his left hand had turned into a set of what looked like syringes, the needles resembling claws, his whole hand now seemingly mechanical and metallic. “My power,” Xavier smirked, flexing his taloned hand, “Allows me to extract emotion from a person. This is the ‘Thinner’ part of the equation. The emotional energy is converted to a liquid state. I can, of course, also return the emotions to their original owners, in a gaseous state: this is the ‘Paint’ aspect. Now, I know this is, uh...you know...a little freaky, but...I’m going to need a volunteer.” He handed the spellbook to Abe and added: “My assistant doesn’t exactly have veins to target.” Naturally, at first, nobody stepped forward. Xavier’s expression shifted, and he started to seem crestfallen, perhaps even a little scared… You sighed, shook your head, and stepped closer, raising one arm. “I volunteer,” you said. Xavier grinned, and nodded gratefully. “Thank you, Prefect,” he said, and addressed the audience as - with the clinical care of a master surgeon - he pulled you closer by one arm. “Everyone watch closely, please.” He then looked back at you; his voice was the professional, bland calm of a medical expert as he said the timeless refrain: “This won’t hurt a bit.” The syringes were inserted into your arm. You closed your eyes, trying to relax, remembering all the injections you had gotten. You did not feel the slightest prick as they did their work, and soon, bright green fluid - the color of some toxic acid - was drawn from your very body into the syringe fingers. “Sit down,” whispered Xavier, in the same clinical, almost cold tone, easing you into a nearby chair which Abe had prepared. His actions seemed more dismissive than in the vein of proper bedside manners. You sank into it gratefully. You felt...lightheaded. Cold. Almost ill. You didn’t know it at the time, but before the congregation of onlookers, your skin had suddenly turned very, very pale, and your hair and eyes had lost all color. Even your clothes seemed to have become more faded, causing you to look like a monochrome character from a black-and-white movie. You hoped the sickening, hollow sensation inside you wouldn’t last long as Xavier turned to the audience again. “Generally speaking, draining the emotion from the victim will leave them feeling weakened; enough power drawn can lead to them being rendered unconscious. My machine allows me to withdraw more than I would usually be able to manage in a single dose without even touching the subject, should I wish...but for safety purposes, I think we had better focus on the OUTPUT demonstration. Observe…” He closed his eyes...and suddenly, the syringes emptied, as if the power was being drawn through his arm and into his core...then, the same green fluid bubbled through the pipes, and a slosh came from the copper tanks as your emotions filled them with liquid energy. “Now,” said Xavier, and waved a hand for Abe to open the book and show him the page, as his syringe hand lifted to the ceiling. “Let’s see if the emotional energy I’ve drained from my volunteer can be converted to enough magical power, via the ERPC, for the spell I attempted earlier. Remember, everybody: first year here…” Once again, Xavier lifted his hand to the ceiling...and this time, as he spoke the incantation, the purple cloud became a beautiful circle of deep indigo, revealing the boundless reaches of outer space. Splashes of color became perfect images of planets and stars, so real in appearance one swore they could touch them. In fact, one student DID try to touch one...and yelped, as the sun actually burnt their finger slightly. “Careful,” chuckled Xavier, and then flexed his fingers...and the beautiful image disappeared. He then turned to the judges and, without a word, bowed. He had rested his case. The judges seemed most impressed. Dr. Alcott and the others applauded and smiled, looking quite pleased. However, they had other presentations to attend to, and after a few more perfunctory questions, they moved on. As the judges moved on, and the crowd went with them, Xavier looked two, kneeling down to look at your face. You felt dizzy and queasy, and the look on his face indicated he could tell. He extended his fingers. “Breathe normally,” he instructed, and a faint blue mist poured from the needle like fingers...and you sighed as you felt the ill feeling go away. Steadily, the color flooded back into your being at the same time. “Oh, dear Gods...wh-what was that?” “That was what it was like to be drained of emotional energy,” Xavier said, and gave an anxious sort of smile. “Pretty icky, huh?” “You said it,” you grumbled. “That was a bold decision, Prefect,” Cael observed, as Grim nodded in agreement. Both he and the imp looked rather concerned; they had lingered behind to check on you. Abe placed a mute hand upon your shoulder. You glanced up briefly at the featureless mechanical man, then smiled weakly back at your friends. “Well, he needed someone...who else would have done it?” you reasoned, then shuddered. “I really don’t like needles though…” “Not my fault it’s how my power works,” chuckled Xavier, but obligingly lifted his hand and spoke the counter-curse: “Thinner & Paint.” Another flash of blue-green light, and his hand returned to normal. He gave it a shake, then extended it to you. “Thank you for the help,” he said, sincerely. “Gotta admit, I didn’t expect anybody to put their best foot forward for me like that…” “I’m glad I could start a new custom,” you said, and shook his hand before shakily standing up. “I still don’t feel quite ready for work though…” “Give it a couple short minutes, and it’ll wear off on its own,” Xavier said sweetly. Just then, more applause came...louder than before. The four of you looked; Xavier frowned and the rest of you perked up as you realized who the next contender was… “The Shrouds!” exclaimed Grim. “Let’s see what they are up to,” suggested Cael. “Right,” you nodded, then smiled at Xavier. “Really cool invention. I hope you win!” Xavier’s eyes widened as he looked back at you, seemingly taken aback by the compliment and well-wishes...then smiled awkwardly. “Heh...uh...th-thanks, um...enjoy the rest of the expo. I mean, no one else is gonna be as awesome, but...you know…” You just laughed, and joined your friends, giving Xavier a wave as you strolled towards the Shrouds’ panel. You never noticed how Xavier’s smile faded into a cold, almost lifeless expression behind you while your back turned away. “No one else is gonna be as awesome,” he whispered to himself, forebodingly. Unaware of the ominous moment that had passed, your gaggle descended with the rest of the onlookers to see what the Head of Ignihyde and his “Baby Brother” had in store. Said “Baby Brother” was brushing humming in a vocoded-sounding way (he WAS an android, after all) as he brushed down a machine on the table. The device was not hidden by anything, the way Xavier’s power pack had been, which meant you and all and sundry could take a peek at it. It was...difficult to describe. The shape of the thing vaguely resembled a small ice maker, colored black and gray, but with three glass tubes on the top, each filled with strange fluids in primary colors: red, yellow, and blue. While Ortho dusted it off, Idia, was standing off to one side; his knees were almost knocking together, and his fingers fiddled endlessly with the dangling pullstrings of his hoodie as he stared at the judges, brow bathed in cold sweat. “Okay, Brother-o’-mine!” cheered Ortho, and looked to Idia happily. “It’s all set.” Idia said nothing. He didn’t move. He stared straight ahead, like a statue, still focused unblinkingly on the judges. “Uh...brother?” Idia whimpered, still frozen and shaking. “BROTHER!” shouted Ortho, fire-hair flaring up and turning orange for a second as he stomped his foot in frustration. Idia yelped and jumped about a foot in the air. “IWASN’TTHINKINGABOUTHIDING!” he exclaimed in a jabbering sort of way...then blinked when he saw Ortho’s pouty expression. (How the android could pout with no visible lips was anyone’s guess.) He flushed; Idia never blushed red or pink, but his cheeks turned a sort of bluish-purple color. “C’mon!” Ortho urged, and gestured towards the group. “They’re waiting.” This did not seem to encourage Idia, who flinched and looked nervously at the impatient judges. “I...um...uh...w-well, uh...aha...er…” You frowned, glancing with concern at Grim and Caelyum; the former matched your expression, while the other mostly looked bored. This was not going well. A thought came to you, and you stepped forward slightly. Idia must have heard your approach, because his eyes quickly darted to see you, and the encouraging smile you gave. Suddenly, he seemed to relax...but only VERY slightly. Idia was the sort to fear he was BREATHING too loudly and that would get on people’s nerves, he could only be so calm. Still, it helped enough for him to clear his throat and begin talking. “Ahem...s-sorry, ladies and gentlemen,” he said, with a nervous smile, tapping his fingers together childishly. “I’m, ah...not used to this sort of...front and center kinda thing, heh...honestly, I wish I were hiding under my blankets right now...BUT! But, ah...I think the device I’ve made will at least be of interest…” So saying, Idia seemed to pluck up some courage. Your own smile widened as he placed a hand on the machine, and his stance straightened. If there was one thing that Shroud could talk about with SOME pride, it was his work. “I don’t need to tell all you that, uh...th-that the source of magic for m-many wizards and witches is their magic crystals, right? Right. So, ah...I, well...I got to thinking: the problem with the crystals is they can...well...run out. We have to mine for them, we have to dig for them, and there’s always a chance that someday...y’know...th-there might not be any left. Which would...kinda suck, ha. SO! I decided to try and create SYNTHETIC crystals…” He tapped the tubes on the top of the machine. “With these three simple potion compounds, mixed together in the right order, I can...well...do that. Using this machine.” “Would you say there are other advantages to this idea?” Dr. Alcott spoke up. “Oh, y-yes!” Idia said, starting to smile as he realized he had someone’s interest, though he seemed a bit nervous when he noticed the way the other judges scribbled some quick notes down. “Ahem...yes, sir. See, with synthetic crystals, not only do you not need to dig them up, but...well...if you have these compounds, and this machine, you can make as many as you like.” “Well, yes,” Dr. Alcott nodded, “But are they any more advantageous than natural crystals?” Idia paused, as if to think on his answer, then nodded slowly. “There is one other thing,” he said, almost shyly. (Well...there was no “almost” about it, this was Idia Shroud, but you gave him the benefit of the wiggle room anyway.) He paused before steadily elaborating: “Synthetic crystals do have a couple of weaknesses. They are not as physically strong as natural ones, for a start, the same way synthetic gems are not as strong as real jewels. You also can’t make them as large as natural crystals, because with the compounds being used, they can become unstable. But, at the average size of the average magic crystal…” He pointed to the one he wore himself, on his arm, before continuing. “...It can actually last longer than a natural crystal. It...well...um...I don’t know how to explain it, actually, but my experiments have shown that...well...you can use them for a longer period of time before worrying about Overblotting.” “Well, that’s definitely an advantage,” smiled Dr. Alcott, seemingly impressed, then turned serious as he scratched a few notes down before speaking again: “Can we see how this machine works?” “Y-Yes! Yes, of course!” nodded Idia...then tapped Ortho on the shoulder. “Little brother? Um...w-would you do the honors?” He then added in a whisper, “I’ll probably mess up…” Your smile became slightly less proud: Idia was still Idia. Ortho just giggled. “You can’t mess up turning the machine on, Big Brother!” he teased quietly, but still obeyed, pressing a button on the contraption. A loud whirring sound was heard, and the potions in the tubes bubbled and then began to lessen in volume; you could hear the sound of fluid being stirred and mixed, followed by the low humming buzz of another item either cooling or heating the stuff inside the machine… ...It only took about two minutes - during which the judges’ attention was raptly focused on the device, and several in the crowd mumbled to one another with interest - and then, with a rattle and a clatter, a teardrop-shaped, transparent, pale blue crystal dropped into a tray inside the machine. Idia opened the lid and pulled the crystal out of the tray, holding it up for everyone to see, then offered it to the judges, who inspected it closely. Finally, Dr. Alcott handed the artificial crystal back to Idia with a smile. “Fine work, young Master Shroud,” he nodded in approval. “Fine work indeed.” The other judges and the audience applauded. Idia smiled bashfully, tucking his head down and mouthing a quiet word of thanks as he hugged the crystal to his chest. Ortho, noticing the way his brother was shaking, gave him an encouraging hug as the mob and the judges - still chatting betwixt themselves - moved away. Once again, yourself and your friends stepped forward, all of you wearing matching grins. “I’m so proud of you!” you cheered, and gave Idia a hug. You felt the eldest Shroud freeze up in your embrace, and couldn’t help but smile still wider; Idia, bless his heart, still wasn’t used to much physical interaction, and you could feel him starting to twitch. You gave him a very gentle, comforting squeeze, and rubbed his back reassuringly. Only then did his arms steadily move upwards to gingerly return the hug. “Nya!” Grim called out happily, trotting over with a wide grin, purring up at the fire-haired Ignihyde head. “You did a lot better than I expected!” “An interesting invention, too,” Cael complimented. “I’m sure you’ll end up with first place!” “Oh, I-I dunno,” mumbled Idia, rubbing one arm and squirming slightly with embarrassment. “I thought Madoc had a pretty cool creation, too…” “His was neat,” nodded Grim, “But I think yours is better.” “His energy converter DID have one noticeable issue,” Cael thought to add, glancing back towards Xavier’s panel - by now, the odd scientist and his assistant had turned their attention away, and were seemingly polishing the power pack. “It depends on HIM in order to work. No one else would be able to use it: it’s not something you can mass produce, because no one else has his Unique Magic.” “That’s true,” Ortho spoke up. “But hey! The basic idea isn’t bad; with a little adjusting, he could make it something really special for everyone to use!” “If he cares enough to try,” mumbled Grim; he subsided at the look you gave him. “It’s up to the judges, and the contest has just started,” you said, crisply, then smiled at Idia once more. “Whatever happens, you did good. Don’t doubt that.” Idia smiled sweetly. “Th-thank you,” he whispered, then glanced at the crystal in his hand and back up at you...before offering it cautiously. “Would you...like a souvenir? Heh…” You chuckled, and took the crystal, placing it in your pocket. “Sure,” you said. “Thanks, Idia.” “Y-You’re w-w-welcome,” stuttered Idia, looking like he was scared of feeling too happy. He paused and cleared his throat with a cough before reaching into his hoodie’s pocket, pulling out his cell phone. “Well, um...I wanna catch up with a new show I’m watching, so...I’m, uh...y’know...gonna go find a nice, safe corner till the judgment call comes, and...well…ju st, uh...exist, heh…” “Can I watch with you, Big Brother?” Ortho peeped hopefully. “Sure,” Idia said with a smile and a nod, then gave you the same gestures before scurrying away, looking like he couldn’t wait to get away from everything that had the power to breathe. Yourself and your two companions chuckled and gave a collective mock salute to the Shroud brothers, as Ortho followed Idia quickly. Then, still chattering amongst yourselves, you hurried to rejoin the group and see what else was at the exposition… None of you were aware of Xavier Madoc’s eyes following the mob’s movements, before glancing back at Idia’s device. One could have sworn his one green eye flashed.

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The exposition had come to an end, and after two hours of deliberation, the judges were ready to deliver their verdict. The contestants had lined up on either side of the room, while the audience sat in chairs before a podium. Yourself, Caelyum, and Grim all took seats in the second row (the front row had filled up too quickly) and watched as Dr. Alcott approached the podium, adjusting his spectacles and shuffling some papers in his hands. You glanced to the right. Along with the other contenders at the expo, Idia and Xavier were naturally lined up, both on the same side of the hall. Xavier stood with a cocksure smile, arms crossed, while Idia was nervously twiddling his fingers, biting his lip with his dagger-like teeth. He looked towards Xavier and smiled nervously. “S-So, uh...may the best man win, huh?” he said, awkwardly. Xavier didn’t even look at the dorm head as he narrowed his eyes and simply said, “Don’t worry. I will.” Idia looked a bit befuddled. Abe and Ortho - who stood beside their corresponding creators - looked at each other and shrugged. The sound of Dr. Alcott brought your attention back to the podium. “It’s time,” Cael and Grim murmured at the same time, as the lead judge addressed the audience, crooked nose pointed high. “Friends of science,” the doctor began, “I am not one for grand speeches or over-sentimentalizing the talents we’ve seen on display here today. Virtually every experiment we viewed today, every invention created or formula concocted, was of interest.As far as those doing this for an assignment go, my supposition is you will all pass with flying colors. However, there can only be one winner: one person to leave this exposition a proper champion.” He snapped his fingers and one of the other judges stepped up beside him, and handed him a trophy, with a golden ornament resembling a ringed planet. “Ladies and gentlemen,” Dr. Alcott intoned, “The winner of the Annual Science Expo is…” Xavier smirked, and straightened up his labcoat, taking a deep breath, as if ready to thank everyone… “...Mr. Idia Shroud!” Xavier froze, the smile seemingly slapped from his face as his eyes widened. Idia’s eyes widened too, and he gasped in surprise as the crowd applauded. One could almost see tears in his eyes as he realized what had happened. Yourself and your party cheered as Ortho nudged Idia up to the podium to accept his trophy, which he did with trembling fingers. You were grinning from ear to ear, and so was Idia; his shark-toothed smile had never been wider, you felt, nor more genuine in nature. His amber eyes sparkled like a pair of glittering gold coins. As Dr. Alcott began to congratulate Shroud - who was hugging the trophy to his chest almost like a teddy bear - you turned to see the other contenders. Most of them - including Abe - were clapping politely. The only exceptions were Ortho, who was literally dancing with joy… ...And Xavier Madoc. He looked absolutely livid. His face was almost as red as Riddle Rosehearts’ could get, his fists clenched, one eye twitching as he gritted his teeth angrily. His mismatched eyes were burning… You felt your blood run cold as the blue eye was surrounded by a matching aura. “Grim!” you hissed, tapping the feline-like creature on the side. Grim turned fast...and his ears flattened back and he mewed as he saw droplets of ink dripping from the magic crystal Xavier wore… “Oh, no,” he gulped nervously. “What’s wrong?” Caelyum whispered...then frozen when he saw the same. “Oh, barnacles...is that…?” “Overblot,” you replied, gravely. “Here we go again…” Just as Dr. Alcott shook Idia’s hand, and was about to dismiss him, Xavier suddenly let out a screeching cry of apoplectic rage, which startled everyone present. All eyes watched as the white labcoat of the first-year science master flapped behind him like the wings of a huge war bird, as he flew back towards his panel, and hurriedly strapped the ERPC to his back. “Unacceptable!” he shouted. “I will not allow it! I WILL NOT ALLOW IT! No one outsmarts me! NOBODY! My machines are perfect! My work is superior in every way! And if you doubt that - if ANYONE STILL doubts that…!” A feral grin came to his face as he extended one arm. “...Then I’ll just have to prove otherwise, won’t I? Paint & Thinner.” A flash of turquoise light was immediately followed by an explosive sound. KA-ZAM! A gale wind ripped through the hall, as a swirl of black mist surrounded Xavier Madoc; you cursed violently under your breath as blue and green light burst through pockets in the spiraling cloud of inky darkness. No doubt Xavier’s strong emotions and the level of magic he had put out earlier had blended together, and with the power pack on, he could burn through magic and cause damage with greater force and strength than you could guess. “Brace yourselves!” you called to Caelyum and Grim, as everyone else in the hall dove or ducked for cover. “This isn’t gonna be easy!” “Is it ever?!” Grim yowled, while Cael simply squinted, watching with you as the mist began to clear… ...And soon, you could see the change that had come over Xavier Madoc. The right side of his body had seemingly not changed at all...but the left was another story. Not only was there now a blue aura surrounding his left eye, not to mention the metallic, syringe-tipped left hand...but his whole left side seemed to have become a cyborganic nightmare. The left side of his face was covered in metal plates, and his entire left arm and leg had become robotic in nature; the clothes on the left side of his body were seemingly frayed and shredded, exposing portions of a metal chest and clockwork-esque innards. In-between the joints of his limbs and face, black ink oozed like oil. Xavier’s one green eye was feral looking; bloodshot with a pinprick pupil. He grinned in a manic way, and let out a cackling laugh that rebounded off the hall walls. “HA HA HA HA HA! You dared to overlook my creations?! You spurned my talents, eh?! Then let me show just how powerful I can REALLY become!” he roared, and the ERPC roared to life as he thrust out his syringe hand. “I told you, I can extend my unique abilities without proximity! So now...NOW, ALL OF YOU, GIVE ME YOUR POWER!” In horrific fashion, the needles extended...and five members in the crowd collapsed as they were pricked, turning gray and pallid. Their entire being became monochrome as, in a split second, all emotion was drained from them and into Xavier’s being. Xavier shot out his claws again, the protracting talons jabbing into another five people and rendering them the same. Now, panic set in, and people screamed as they raced for the door. “Don’t leave in such a rush!” laughed Madoc, and snapped the fingers of his one human hand. The doors suddenly shifted, becoming solid walls, and all the windows clicked as they were locked into place. “The party’s just beginning!” Xavier’s claws lunged at you now, but yourself, Grim, and Cael all quickly dropped, ducking the attack. Three other people who had been standing behind you, along with two more, were drained in your stead. Xavier shuddered, a toxic aura surrounding him as the tanks were filled with more and more emotional energy. “More...MORE!” he bellowed. “If I can’t have your respect, I will have your rage...your despair...your panice...fuel me! FUEL ME!” Idia and Dr. Alcott ducked behind the podium with twin yelps. Ortho hurried to check on his brother, and barely avoided the needles as they shot out. The other judges weren’t so lucky, and crumpled in an unconscious, grayscale-colored heap as their emotions were drained. Abe rushed forward to try and stop his creator, desperately grabbing hold of Xavier’s one human arm. Xavier snarled, gnashing his teeth. “Imbecile and traitor!” he roared into the droid’s pleading face. “I have no further use for YOU!” Xavier jerked away his human hand, then, with a sneer, thrust it out again...and - THOOM! - a magical shockwave slammed into Abe’s chest, sending the robot flying. He crashed down beside your trio, the three of you still lying on the ground as Xavier continued to stick his needles into everyone who moved. The room was in a panic, the other contestants’ creations smashing on the floor as people dove for cover. Slowly, Xavier began to make his way through the hall, laughing dementedly. “All this over a freaking trophy?!” hissed Grim. “I think there’s got to be more to it,” mumbled Caelyum. Abe nodded, as if to confirm this, and then gave you a look as if to ask, Now what? This was the burning question; you had to figure out a way to keep Xavier from hurting more people, as well as remove the power pack. As long as he still had the converter on, his power wouldn’t drop. He could potentially stay in Overblot for a much longer period of time, burning the power almost as quickly as he got it...growing just strong enough to overwhelm… “Okay, I’ve got a plan,” you said at last, and whispered to your compatriots. “Listen closely…” Xavier, meanwhile, grinned as he approached a group of people, huddled together. “Let’s try an experiment,” he hissed, a mad grin on the young doctor’s face as he lifted his syringe hand. “I now know how swiftly I can drain an organism...now, can I make it more slow and painful?” He cackled, his victims babbling pleas for him to stop as he lifted his hand, preparing to shoot out the razor-sharp needles and drain them dry. “Every emotion in your body...slowly siphoning into mine...let’s see how long it can really-” FWOOSH! “Nya! Back off, crazy-coat!” Xavier jumped back with an almost animalistic sneer, and swirled his ragged cape around as he looked towards the source of the fire that had distracted him. Grim was standing in a ready pose, balls of blue flame held in each forepaw as he smirked challengingly. “Insufferable hairball!” shouted Xavier. “I WILL NOT BE DENIED! I WILL HAVE MORE POWER!” He lunged at Grim, swiping with his robotic talons, but Grim moved aside quickly. As Xavier plunged towards him, a loud smashing sound was heard from behind. The mad doctor turned quickly, and his one good eye widened in surprise as he saw that Abe had kicked a hole clear through the wall, and was ushering people through the hole and out of the area, Idia and Dr. Alcott leading those still conscious to safety. “NO!” shouted Xavier, and shot out his needles...but he was just too late as Abe blocked him, giving him a determined glare as they scratched helplessly against his armored plating. Then, giving Xavier an almost pitying expression, the robot leapt through the hole himself. Xavier moved to try and give pursuit, but Grim thrust out his arms, and formed a wide ring of fire that blocked the scientist’s path. “You think this will stop me?!” Xavier bellowed. “You can’t defeat me! My invention gives me power beyond yours!” “Good to know. I’d hate to have to refund anything.” Xavier stopped short and glanced about, trying to find the source of Caelyum’s voice...before, suddenly, he felt a strange sensation brushing up against his legs. He looked down...and screamed in a mixture of panic and rage as a horde of marble white Locker Crabs began to swarm over him, their pincers latching onto parts of his clothing and the edges of his inkstained metal carapace, trying to drag him to the floor. “GET OFF ME, YOU CRETINOUS CRUSTACEANS!” yelled Xavier, trying to kick and swat away the crabs, unaware of the shadow that stepped through a gap that formed in the flames, and approached from behind. The crabs snipped their claws at the leather straps holding the ERPC in place. Xavier slapped them away...then jerked as, suddenly, the weight of his invention was pulled away. “WHAT?!” he spat, and turned around fast, pupils pinpricks as he saw you jump backwards, holding the device in your hands. “NO! NO, YOU-GACK!” He hit the floors as the crabs tripped him up. You scampered back through the gap in the flames, which Grim soon closed up. The little monster was jumping up and down, pumping his forepaws/fists and cheering. “NYA! Get ‘im, Cael! Pin ‘im down!” the cat called. “We’ve won now!” A low laugh from under the swarm of Locker Crabs knocked the smile from Grim’s face. “Won? Hardly. I’m still getting warmed up!” ZAM! Xavier sent out another shockwave with a loud shout. You toppled onto your back, the ERPC falling from your hands and thunking onto the floor. The crabs scattered, and the flames were extinguished as Grim was sent rolling across the hall. You quickly sat back up...and shuddered. Xavier loomed over you, the acid-colored aura around him showing his fury as trails of spilling ink traced his steps. You snatched up the ERPC and scrambled to your feet, making a dash for the whole in the wall. “NOT SO FAST!” roared Madoc, and lifted his human hand. He screamed some foreign incantation, and the shattered section was suddenly patched up, the debris flying back into place, stitching together like a jigsaw puzzle’s corners. You swerved and made a dash for a window; you could break it, after all, even if it was locked. Xavier snarled out another incantation, however...and teleported directly in front of you. You skidded to a halt, but not fast enough as he grabbed hold of your arm with one hand, and lifted his syringe claws, a wild grin on his cyborganic face. “HA HA HA!” he cackled. “What a foolish attempt that was! You truly thought you could defeat me?! I will drain you till your very soul is rendered inert! Nothing can resist my power! With the ERPC, I can remain like this for eternity! And when the world grovels at my feet, I will build more machines! BRILLIANT machines! My mechanical creations will-!” FWOOMPH! A burst of flame slammed into Xavier, bowling him over and singing his labcoat. You fell back down and scrambled away as you held tightly to the power pack. Xavier snarled as he stood back up, his mechanical pieces clicking and sparking...as the two of you saw who had re-entered the room. It was Idia Shroud; Ortho had evidently picked the lock on one of the windows, and the pair had climbed through. Idia was visibly trembling, but tried his hardest to look brave, twists of orange curling through his ethereal blue hairdo. “Leave. Them. Alone,” Idia intoned. Madoc sneered. “First you steal my prize, now you RUIN MY MONOLOGUE?!” he yelled. “Alright! Just for that, I WILL OBLITERATE YOU!” Xavier charged at Idia, but the head of Ignihyde narrowed his eyes, gritting his sharp, jagged teeth. His hand shook as he held it, as if showing doubt… ...Then, his stance and expression hardened, and the shaking stopped. Just as Xavier Madoc leapt through the air, swiping his syringe claws through the air...he snapped his fingers. KRAK-KOOM! An explosive blast of fire and noise, like a grenade had gone off, erupted directly before Madoc. The explosion sent the mad scientist flying backwards, his labcoat tattered and scorched, black marks on his skull plates. Xavier cried out as he slammed headfirst into a wall...then crumpled to the floor, and fell still. He was out like a light. The mad doctor was done. You sighed with relief and stood up as Ortho cheered. “WOO-HOO! Way to go, Big Brother!” he exclaimed, and gave Idia a smack on the back. The hunched head of Ignihyde flinched and smiled shyly at his artificial sibling. “It was nothing,” he whispered faintly, visibly blushing. “Are you okay, Prefect?” Ortho asked. “I’m fine,” you nodded as you approached them, and glanced around. “Where are the others?” Right on cue, a low growl was heard. The three of you looked to see Grim was just sitting up, massaging his skull after evidently banging his head during his tumble. “Me-owwwww…! That creep hits way too hard!” he moaned out. “Did anybody get the number on that-MREOWR?!” He was cut off as Idia scooped the imp up and began to snuggle him, crooning and planting chaste, loving kisses on his head. “Awwww, the poor wittle kitty!” he cooed sympathetically. “Did you get an ouchie? Did the mean cyborg hurt you, huh?” “HISSSSS! I’M FINE!” Grim spat, kicking and squirming. “L-Lemme go! For the last time, I DON’T LIKE SNUGGLES, STOP!” Idia just let out a happy hum, squeezing Grim, repeatedly crooning, “Awww, poor thing, you poor little dear…!” over and over again. Ortho giggled sweetly, while you just rolled your eyes and smiled. A skittering sound heralded the reappearance of Caelyum, who reformed out of a pillar of white sand crabs. He stumbled on his feet as he returned to his normal state, and you placed a hand on his shoulder to steady him. “You okay?” you whispered. “No,” mumbled Cael, and smiled wearily. “When I use the power that way, a fraction of my will - my mind - is in every single crab. I feel like I just got thrown through the loop-the-loop of a roller coaster seventeen times.” You gently patted his shoulder and smiled back, gratefully. “Walk it off, matey,” you said softly with a wink. Cael chuckled. “Aye,” he nodded, as your group moved to look down at the defeated Xavier Madoc. “I will.” For several seconds, the ink-leaking cyborg lay on the ground, unmoving. But that was alright: none of you were expecting him to move. By now, you knew the drill of how things worked after Overblot...and sure enough, after a few seconds, wisps of silvery-white mist began to drift up from the defeated scientist, as his whole body began to glow a blinding white. All of you shielded your eyes from the light, watching as the mist began to spiral, and soon enough, images formed in the center of the floating cloud. Pictures from the past… “Dad! Dad, look at this!” A tall, thin man in white, with a pointed goatee, looked down from the workbench he was stationed at. He smiled as a small boy - with mismatched eyes of blue and green - came waddling into the room, holding a piece of paper. “What is it, Xavier?” “I made a blueprint, dad! I wanna make a robot! Like one of yours!” squeaked the young Xavier, and held out the paper to his father. “Do you think it’s any good, Dad? Do ya? Huh?” The older man lifted the paper and looked; he chuckled at the untidy crayon scrawl drawn on the page, the acronym “A.B.E.” accompanying a childish drawing of a metal man in a porter’s outfit. “Not a bad idea, Xavier,” he complimented his son, and handed the “blueprint” back to its creator before ruffling his son’s hair. “You’ll make a fine inventor, at this rate.” Xavier giggled, playfully swatting at his father’s hand, then gave him a wide but shy smile. “You promise?” he peeped. “Could I...could I be as good as you, Dad?” “No,” the man answered, and leaned down, kissing his son’s forehead. “You’ll be even better.” The child’s happy hum was interrupted by the shifting of time, as a new image spun into view: Xavier was a little older now, and working in a laboratory. He whistled as he fitted a screw into place on a device he was building...only to freeze as he heard voices coming from outside the shop. Curious, he trotted over to the door, and peeked outside. He could see the shadows of two men, arguing not so far away, and heard what they were saying. One of them he recognized as his father’s voice… “Oscar, you can’t be serious!” “I’m sorry, Xander,” the other voice said. “All I know is that Charles got to me first. What would that tell you?” “That Charles is a faster runner,” droned Xander. Xavier giggled softly, but clapped a hand over his mouth to avoid being heard. “Very funny,” Oscar’s voice drawled. “I’m serious, Oscar. You KNOW me, we’ve worked together for years! Are you going to take his word over mine?” “Right now, I haven’t got a choice. His patent has been in development at my company for a while; all that’s left are i’s to dot and t’s to cross. Even if what you say is true, Xander, he finished his work more quickly; I’m not seeing a lot of incentive here.” A pause. “...So that’s it then?” came the terse voice of Xavier’s father. “What about my family, Oscar? What about my son?” “Relax, Xander. You’ll come up with more inventions, you always do, and I’ll be just as willing to buy!” “Forget it. I’ll find another person to sell to.” Another pause. “...Okay. Okay. If that’s how you feel about it,” came Oscar’s weak reply. “Goodbye, Xander.” “Goodbye, Oscar. Tell Charlie he knows where to stuff it.” Oscar’s shadow disappeared, and a few moments later, the sound of a door was heard opening and closing. Xander was heard sighing, and Xavier saw his father’s silhouette slump into a nearby chair. Curious, the boy trundled out of the room to his father’s side; the older inventor was sitting with his head in his hands, massaging his brow. “Dad?” peeped Xavier. “What was all that?” Xander blinked at his son. “Oh. You...heard that, huh?” Xavier nodded slowly. Xander blinked...then sighed and picked his child up, placing him in his lap. “Listen to this, Xavier, because it’s very important,” said the doctor to his son. “Not all inventors are good. You must guard your inventions well, and you must always do your best to make sure no one can top you. People will try to steal what you make, people will look for weaknesses in it. Never let them find any way to stop you.” He placed a hand under his son’s chin and gave a sad smile. “You’ll be brilliant someday...but with brilliance comes danger. You can’t trust anyone, understand?” “I can trust you.” “Of course,” chuckled Xander. “And I can trust my machines,” added Xavier. “Well, yes, but a machine isn’t a person,” Xander said. “Machines only exist to follow their programming. Machines will always do what they’re supposed to. Machines will only let you down if people making them make mistakes. People aren’t like that: people are flawed, and people are foolish. They will pass you over and cheat you if they find a way or reason. Never let that happen. Okay?” “Okay, Dad. I’ll do my best.” The scene shifted again. Xavier was now much older, nearly the same age as he was now. Abe now stood at his side as he worked on a project in his laboratory, building a new machine. “This is going to be the greatest thing ever!” he cheered, grinning to his mechanical companion, who nodded in happy agreement. “Just think of how much fun the science fair will be with this completed! Ha Ha! Man, Abe, we have this in the bag!” “Hi, Xavier!” The pair looked towards a new face that had entered the lab: a fellow youngster in red. “Oh, hey, Gus! What’s up? Shouldn’t you be getting ready for the science fair?” “I haven’t figured out what to do yet,” sighed the boy sadly, then smiled weakly. “So, uh...I thought, well...maybe you could help me come up with an idea. I mean...you’re like a billion times better at this stuff, heh…” “Sure, I can help!” smiled Xavier, helpfully, and clapped his hands together, dusting them off, waving for Abe to go fetch a few books. As the robot marched off, the teen in red noticed the item on the workbench. “Hey, what’s that?” “Huh? Oh! It’s my project for the science fair. Looks pretty cool, right?” “Yeah! What’s it do?” Xavier explained quickly. The lad looked envious of his science-savvy friend. “Wow...I’ll never figure out how you can do all that stuff...you’ve gotta be the best inventor ever!” “Awww,” blushed Xavier. “It’s just a knack.” “Can you show me how you make it?” the teen asked, hesitantly. “Sure, if you want,” Xavier said, blithely shrugging and smiling. “Then I’ll help you figure out what you’ll do yourself. Sound fair?” The boy smirked; Xavier didn’t notice the cunning in his eyes. “Yeah. That sounds fair,” the classmate answered. The scenario changed once more. Xavier now glared with absolute hatred at the boy in red...who was smiling, chest puffed out with pride, as he showed off his machine to the judges, who cheered and applauded. It was a machine identical to the one Xavier had made...and the boy had made it first. Xavier had been forced to change his plans, and the experiment he’d come up with at the last minute had been sub-par. The cheat got first place. Xavier got nothing. Xavier snarled, fists clenching as the boy in red smirked in a sidelong way at him, and mouthed the word, “Sucker,” before continuing to bask in adulation. Xavier Madoc scowled as he packed up his items. He was shaking a little. “You can’t trust anyone,” he whispered to himself. “Well, you’ll see...you’ll ALL see...I’ll come up with something no one else can top. I will PROVE to you how good my science is. Just wait and see…” His mismatched eyes burned as he turned his back on the laughing classmates and applauding teachers...and stalked back to his lab. Alone. With his machines. “...I don’t need anybody. Just my machines.”

The mist cleared and evaporated, and the white light faded...revealing Xavier Madoc had changed back to normal on the floor. He was still unconscious, but the glow was gone from his blue eye, and the machinery parts had vanished. Silence reigned for a few seconds. This was not unheard of. By now, you had accepted there was always a “digestion period” where everyone was taking in what they’d just learned. This time, however...the silence stayed unbroken. No one spoke a word, looking like they were trying to properly form thoughts, even as Xavier began to stir again. As he did, he reached out with a hand, fumblingly, mumbling incoherently… ...And froze as someone knelt down and took that hand. Xavier looked up...and seemed stunned when he stared into the wide yellow eyes of Idia Shroud. For a moment, the two looked at each other...then Xavier pulled away with a sneer. “Cheat,” he hissed. “I never cheated,” whispered Idia, sounding surprisingly confident for once...confident, but careful. “It’s not that no one recognized you, Xavier; no one was trying to neglect you. It’s just...there could only be one winner. And I happened to be it.” “It wasn’t an easy decision, either,” added Ortho. “Oh, no?” Xavier grimaced, looking skeptical. “No,” Idia answered. “Dr. Alcott spoke to me before I returned: you would have been second place. Your invention really impressed him and the other judges, they just...felt mine was more easy to use widespread. Yours needed a few tweaks for them to give it the topmost prize.” “They said they couldn’t have asked for a better start to the expo than you,” added Ortho, in a quiet, helpful voice. The bitterness in Xavier’s face had faded slightly, leaving his expression blank and cold. He turned away quietly, and hugged himself, curling up against the wall. “You can’t shut yourself out because of one bad incident,” whispered Caelyum. “Trust me: I know what it’s like when you seal off your heart. It doesn’t get pretty.” “No one is invincible,” added Grim. “Well...except for me, but...that’s because I’m awesome.” You rolled your eyes at the hubris of “The Great Grim,” and knelt down beside Idia, looking into the heterochromatic eyes of the mad scientist. “Just because you’re brilliant doesn’t mean everything is going to be perfect. Similarly,” you said, “Just because one person did something terrible, it doesn’t mean you can shun all people. Everyone and everything has flaws. The important thing is to learn from them.” Xavier furrowed his brow and looked down at the floor for several seconds...then looked back up at both of you. “...I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I...I shouldn’t have lost control. That was...that was childish of me. And...I’m sorry for what I did.” He looked to Idia and smiled shyly. “Your invention was...not too bad.” “Thank you,” Idia said, with a slight blush, and helped the scientist to his feet. Just then, the sound of metallic footsteps echoed out. The group of you turned...and Xavier’s heart seemed to sink as he saw Abe re-enter the hall, yellow eyes fixed on his creator. “Abe, I’m so, SO sorry,” Xavier said, seriously. “I shouldn’t have-EEP!” He was cut off as the metal man crushed him in a solid bear hug, nuzzling his steel cheek against his creator’s hair. Ortho and Grim both giggled, while yourself and Caelyum smirked. Idia, for his part, didn’t seem to know what to make of the scene. “I think he already forgives you,” you said teasingly. Abe nodded to show this was the case. It was obvious he was just happy his maker was back to normal. Xavier smiled bashfully and gestured for the metal man to put him down, then looked to Idia. “So, uh...y-you’re the head of the dorm,” he said, and rubbed his arm. “Do you, uh...like...have any ideas on how to make the ERPC better? More...accessible?” “I can think of something. You know...maybe,” Idia said with a timid smile. “I mean...I’m r-really not the best choice, I...I got the whole idea for MY thing from an anime-” “Anime?” Xavier asked, and perked up visibly. “What anime?” “Oh! Uh...Magica Marocca. It’s...um...a Magic Girl series? You, ah, probably don’t know what that is-” “YOU WATCH MAGICA MAROCCA?!” Idia blinked, stunned, at the sudden look of exuberant excitement on Xavier’s face. “You...you’ve seen it?” the otaku nearly squeaked out. “I love that series!” exclaimed Xavier. “I mean...okay, it’s not, like, the GREATEST thing, in terms of story? Kinda rushed...but I really love the art style, a-and the way it plays with the themes and ideas of a typical Magic Girl series! It’s like Watchmen, but for...that!” Idia looked like he’d just found his soulmate. “I feel the same way! A-And have you seen Glitter Cure?” “Rascal is one of THE best villains ever.” “I AGREE!” squealed Idia, clapping giddily, that wide, almost manic smile you saw so rarely stretching across his face, matching Xavier’s instantly. “Oh, my gosh, no one EVER knows about that one! This is great!” “It is!” nodded Xavier eagerly...then took his turn to blush. “Um...d’ya think we can...oh...I-I dunno...maybe watch some together?” “I mean...only if you want to,” peeped Idia, ducking his head anxiously. “I’m...n-not used to people who...WANT to watch it with me, heh...normally I-I can only talk about it online…” “I’d like to watch it with you,” Xavier promised. “And...and we can talk about our inventions in the meantime. Does...does that sound fair?” Idia nodded slowly, and began to smile wider once more. “Yeah...yeah, it sounds like a plan,” he said, then looked to Ortho. “Is...is it okay with you, Little Brother?” Ortho gaped. “...You’re asking me if YOU can have a VISITOR in the apartment?” “Yes.” “Like...you WANT to HANG OUT WITH SOMEONE?” “Yuh-huh.” “...Okay, who are you, and what have you done with my Big Brother?” You snickered. So did Xavier, as Idia smiled awkwardly. “You wanna come with, Abe?” the mad scientist asked his robotic companion, who saluted in response. “Great!” Idia laughed. “Let’s go then!” And with unusual, uncharacteristic joy, the otaku and the eccentric sauntered off together, their androids following them as the exit door reformed and they left the convention hall. You smiled. “Well,” you sighed happily. “All’s well that end’s well. Looks like Idia’s found a new friend at last.” “I’m happy for them,” smiled Caelyum. “Finding a person who you can connect with is important.” “Uh-huh,” nodded Grim. “Now, there’s just one problem.” “What’s that?” both you and Cael asked. Grim wordlessly pointed to the mess of chairs, scorch marks, busted machines, and dented walls that the hall had become. You went pale. “...Ohhhhh...right...I forgot...we’re the janitors.” “Uh-huh,” Grim said again, drably. “Well, good luck with that!” Caelyum chirped, and began to saunter off towards the door. “Hey! HEY! Where are you going?!” snapped Grim. “Back to the Mystery Shop,” Cael called over his shoulders. “I have a job of my own to do, me hearties! Take care!” “But-!” Your call was unanswered. Cael disappeared, leaving you and Grim standing alone in the mess. You both looked around, then at each other. “...Grim?” “Yeah, Minion?” “It’s moments like these where I wonder if helping people is worth it.” “I never wonder, Minion,” sighed Grim. “Moments like these, I know it isn’t.”

Your feet shuffled as you went to find the broom and dust pan. From saving the day to cleaning up the wreckage, a Prefect’s work was never done.

The End

#fanfic #story #commission #disney #twisted wonderland #oc #mad doctor #epic mickey #xavier madoc #idia shroud #ortho shroud #idia #ortho #caelyum de macabre #caelyum #cael #grim

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calpalirwin · 3 years ago

Text

Lover of Mine

Summary: Steve admits to his mistakes.

Word Count: 2.9k

And away, and away we go!

Steve had never meant to fall in love with Peggy Carter. But in a weird way he couldn’t put words to, she reminded him of Bucky. Strong-minded, and maybe a little too arrogant at times. Caring. And a terrible sight to behold if you crossed her. And when she smiled at him like he was the only one in the room? He’d always been a sucker for people who made him feel desired.

He missed Bucky, and Peggy had been there, and his heart tried to reconcile the difference until it couldn’t anymore.

With Peggy it was easy. He could kiss her in crowded rooms without a blush covering him from head to toe. He could do so many of the traditional things he’d been too scared to do with Bucky. And Peggy hadn’t fallen off a train, leaving him to worry about her whereabouts.

But Bucky? Bucky was everything Steve had of his past. The reason he had survived long enough to have a future. And it never seemed to matter how many moments he lost with Bucky, as they always had a way of falling back together as if they’d never been apart. And they could console each other’s nightmares in a way that no one else could. There were no secrets or hiding harsh realities, as they both accepted the darkest parts of each other with the same fierceness they accepted the bright parts. No matter how many times they fell, the other was always there to catch. Safety. Home. A sense of belonging. That was what he had with Bucky.

Until he had let it all slip through his finger tips. And for what? A woman who he only loved because she felt like Bucky? A mistake of epic proportions when he had the real thing all along. And he knew it. He knew it the second Bucky had spat out the words, “I said get out, Captain.” But he had been helpless to stop what he had never meant to set into motion.

So out of the apartment and into the night he had walked, head hung in shame.

He’d gotten three blocks before he realized he had left his dog tags on Bucky’s dresser.

And in the morning, he broke up with Peggy too. And in doing so, left himself utterly alone until he found the strength to drag himself across town to Bucky’s doorstep, ready to rectify his mistakes.

~~~

Bucky shoved his hands deep in his pockets, lengthening his strides as the rain started to fall. Lightning flashed and thunder boomed, and he would have broken out in a slow jog to avoid getting soaked, but his apartment was coming into sight. He’d make it. Barely. But he’d make it.

He would have walked straight past the man sitting on the steps outside, if the man’s words of “Huh. So those are where my dog tags went. Been looking for those,” didn’t freeze him in his tracks.

Bucky didn’t say anything as Steve rose to his feet, his blonde hair and the shoulders of his jacket drenched darkly with the rain.

“Wow… Sam was right… You do have a staring problem,” Steve tried to joke with a smile.

“Can I help you, Captain?” Bucky asked, not bothering to soften the bite of his tone.

Steve let out a long sigh. “Can we not do this? The attitude?”

Bucky looked skyward, the rain falling faster and heavier. He may not be able to get drunk, but he could still catch a wicked cold if he stayed out here much longer. And as much as he hated it, he still knew Steve well enough to know that the man was shivering based on the slight tremor in his jaw as he tried to stop his teeth from clacking together. “I suppose you want to come inside, then?”

“Sure beats the alternative of freezing to death. Wasn’t really a fan of that.”

Another bad attempt at a joke that Bucky didn’t take the bait for. Instead, he titled his head towards the building. “C’mon, then.”

Steve smiled, following after Bucky into the building and then Bucky’s apartment. “Thanks, Buck.”

“I wouldn’t thank me yet, Rogers. Don’t mistake my not wanting to get sick as any sort of warm welcome upon seeing you. So I’ll only ask you this once. What do you want?”

Steve perched himself on the edge of the couch, watching as Bucky shrugged out of his leather jacket, draping it over a chair to dry. “I wanted to talk if that’s alright,” he answered.

“You know,” Bucky said, tongue clicking in his cheek. “Maybe they should have called you Captain Obvious instead of Captain America. Because, funnily enough, I worked out that you wanted to talk all on my own.”

“Bucky…” Steve said, feeling his own temper start to flare.

“Steve,” Bucky spat back, before disappearing down the hall.

“I came here to apologize, but if you’re going to insist on acting like a chi-” Steve began to lecture, before Bucky reappeared with a clean black t-shirt in his hand.

“Change. I won’t have you dying on my watch,” was the order before the shirt came flying at his face.

Steve shed his own jacket, but his fingers fiddled with the hem of his shirt. “Ah, to hell with it,” he mumbled. He quickly discarded his shirt, lying it alongside his jacket, before slipping into Bucky’s, the warmth bone deep. “What?” he snapped at Bucky who was staring at him with a bemused grin.

“Nothing,” the older man said, the slight smirk still painted on his lips. “Sometimes it’s easy to forget that you were always the shy kid, is all. So… an apology?”

“Yeah. I’m sorry.”

“Wow… Thanks. Means a lot,” Bucky deadpanned.

“James Buchanan…” Steve growled, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Steven Grant,” Bucky taunted back.

Steve pushed himself to his feet. “You know what? This was stupid. Good seeing you, Buck.”

“Wait. No. Don’t go,” Bucky said, still in that same dead tone.

“Fuck you, Bucky.” There was no malice in the words however, just a weariness as Steve headed for the door.

“Oh, my God,” Bucky muttered with an eye roll. “Sit down, Rogers, before I make you sit down.”

Steve turned, arms crossing as he glared across the room at Bucky. “You can’t order me around.”

“Like hell I can’t. Sit. Your ass. Down!”

“Why should I? I came here to try and talk to you, but I’m not gonna sit here and listen to you make snide remarks the whole time. So you can either cool it with the attitude, or I’m leaving.”

With a growl, Bucky stalked across the apartment, grabbing Steve’s arm. “I told you to sit down.” If the tone of the command wasn’t enough to chill Steve, the flash in Bucky’s eyes was.

Fine,” he relented through gritted teeth, swallowing thickly.

Bucky let go of Steve’s arm, taking two steps back. “Do you want like… something to drink, or something?” Bucky asked, avoiding looking at Steve by walking towards the kitchen, his voice changing to what Steve knew to be his cautiously polite voice.

“Whatever’s fine, thank you,” Steve replied in the same tone, taking a seat on the couch again. Awkward politeness was better than the bitter hostilities. “So, um…” Steve started as Bucky rummaged about in the kitchen. “How have things been?”

“You don’t have to do that. Make small talk to try, and make this less awkward than it is. And for what it’s worth, I apologize for my attitude. I, um, wasn’t expecting to have a visitor. Much less have that visitor be you.”

“Yeah. I would have called, but…”

“Figured I couldn’t ignore you if you sat on my doorstep in the rain?”

“Well, I wasn’t planning on the rain bit.”

Bucky let out a small scoff of a laugh as he joined Steve on the couch, a steaming mug in either of his hands. “Here.”

“What is it?” Steve asked, taking the offered mug.

“Just drink it.”

Hesitantly, Steve took a sip, the hot chocolate burning his tongue and throat, warming him in the same manner Bucky’s shirt had. “Mmm,” he sighed, taking another deeper sip before setting the cup aside. “Thank you.”

“Okay. This time, I’m not actually trying to be rude. But why are you here?”

“Like I said, I came to talk. To apologize.”

“What about?”

“I made a mistake. Lots of them, actually. But I shouldn’t have left that night. And I’m sorry that I did.”

“Well, it’s not like I really gave you the choice to stay.”

“I still shouldn’t have left. Should’ve fought harder. Explained better.”

“Break my heart a little less painfully? Tear us apart with a little more grace? Run away a little less scared?”

The edge was back in Bucky’s tone, and Steve couldn’t blame him for it. “Hurting you was never my intention, Buck.”

“Mmm, well you know what they say about intentions. The road to hell is paved with the good ones.”

There was silence as Steve reached to drink from his cup again, collecting his thoughts. “I broke things off with Peggy. The night after I left.”

“Wow. Heartbreak Rogers. 2 for 2. Didn’t know you had it in you.”

“Bucky…”

“What? Am I supposed to be happy to hear that you broke up with her? Should I be jumping about with joy that you feel you made a mistake?”

“No…”

“Good. Because you still broke me, Steve. And nothing erases that. Nothing fixes that.”

“I know.”

“Then what are you doing here?” Bucky asked, his voice tight as he tried to keep it from breaking. “If you think you made a mistake that night and immediately ended things with her as a result, why did it take you six months to come back?”

“Because I thought you hated me. God knows I hated myself.”

“Then why come back at all?”

“Because even though you might hate me, I’m still in love with you.”

Bucky barked out a laugh full of pain as he rubbed his face. “That’s great… That’s really great…”

“Bucky, I’m serious.”

“Oh, I bet you are. So in love with me, you fell for someone else. So in love with me, you left!”

“I told you, I made a mistake. Lots of them. The only reason I fell for her was because she reminded me of you.”

“How romantic…”

“It was always you, Buck. It’s always gonna be you. Loving you is the only thing I have ever gotten right.”

“If it was the only thing you got right, then why did you give it up? Why did you let me go?”

“Because I didn’t know what else to do. That night… Everything was spinning out of control so fast… And you were so hurt… I just wanted it all to stop. Wanted you to stop hurting. So I did what you told me to do. I left. But all I did was make more of a mess of things.”

“So what? You want me back? Is that what this talk is? You want another chance?”

“No. I mean… Yes, I want you back, and yes, I want another chance. But I’m not stupid enough to hope that’ll happen. I just came to tell you that I really am sorry for hurting you. Not as a ploy to win you back. Not as an attempt at being forgiven. Because I don’t deserve to be forgiven, and I certainly don’t deserve to have you back. I really messed up, Buck. I hurt the one person I love most in the world. And I’ll never stop being sorry for it.”

“And what happens if I do take you back? Hypothetically speaking. How do I know you won’t leave again? That I won’t have to relive this pain? Because, I’ll be honest… I’ve survived a lot of things I shouldn’t have been able to survive. I mean… I lost an arm falling off a train for God’s sake. I was a POW torture victim. But none of it hurt me as badly as not having you. None of it comes close to the pain I’ve felt these last couple months. You had me questioning everything I thought I knew.”

“I know… Like you said, nothing is going to erase, or fix what I did. That’s why I’m not being stupid enough to ask for another chance, no matter how badly I want one. But Bucky, I swear to you that I’ll never make this mistake again. If you decide you want me back, I’ll never let you go. You’re the only love I’m ever going to want, and if you let me, I’ll spend the rest of my life proving that to you.”

The emotions were too high. Having Steve say everything Bucky ever wanted him to say since the break up was too much. But words only went so far. “Damn you…” Bucky said softly, before he was leaning in to kiss Steve. “God damn you,” he continued to murmur as Steve melted under the force of Bucky’s lips on his, sinking into the couch as Bucky kept moving closer.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” Steve whispered back, pulling Bucky on top of him while he laid flat against the couch, their lips still locked.

“I should hate you,” Bucky breathed, his lips hungrily moving down Steve’s jaw to his throat. And he should. He knew he should hate Steve for leaving. Should stop kissing him and tell him to leave. But God, it felt so good, feeling the love that lingered flare back to life.

“I know. I know,” Steve panted, carding his fingers through Bucky’s hair, arching his back as metal fingertips pushed their way up his stomach, growing familiar once more with the flat expanse of tightly toned muscle. “God, Bucky!” was the gasp when Bucky’s other hand cupped the crotch of his jeans.

“I should ruin you the way you ruined me,” he rasped, teeth nipping into Steve’s skin, intent on leaving his mark everywhere he could. A filthy promise of what the night could hold, rather than a scorned musing of bitterness.

The moan that rippled past Steve’s lips was heavenly as his fingers tightened in Bucky’s hair. “Ruin me then. Hate me, and ruin me. I don’t care, Bucky, just whatever it is, don’t stop. Please. I need you.” The words dripped with desperation as Steve rocked his hips against Bucky’s hand.

Bucky halted his movements, lifting up his head to look down at Steve who’s whimpered moan got stuck in his throat. He didn’t want to hate or ruin Steve. He never wanted Steve to feel even an ounce of the pain Bucky had been feeling. He wanted… God, what did he want? He wanted this moment. And he wanted it not to be ruined by his doubts about being able to trust Steve again. And he wanted Steve to understand that he could never hate him. The metal hand that had been on Steve’s stomach now came to grip lightly at Steve’s chin. “I don’t hate you,” Bucky said. “You hear me? I don’t hate you.”

Steve nodded rapidly, swallowing thickly. “I’ve missed you.”

Bucky chuckled, deciding to voice his doubts. “You’re only saying that cuz my hand’s still on your cock.”

Steve shook his head. “No. I mean it. I’ve missed you.”

Bucky squeezed his hand lightly, smirking when Steve’s eyes rolled and fought to stay open. “Don’t lie to me, sweetheart.”

“Okay, okay,” Steve squirmed. “I’ve missed this part, too. A lot. But I’ve missed you more. Missed loving you more.”

“The night’s barely starting. You’re sure another chance is what you want?” It was both a taunt, and a last ditch effort on Bucky’s part to maybe stop himself from the risk of letting Steve back in.

“Please?” Steve’s eyes were solemn as they stared up into Bucky’s. “Let me love you again. I swear I’ll get it right this time.”

Bucky sat up, breaking every point of contact with Steve, who scrambled upright himself. Bucky’s chest heaved, trying to calm both the sexual urge and panic coursing through him. God, he wanted so badly to believe Steve, and lose himself in him like they used to. But make up sex wasn’t a cure.

“Bucky?” Steve asked softly, his hand stroking up Bucky’s arm. “Hey, talk to me.”

“I want to, Steve. God, you have no idea how bad I want this. But I-”

“Gaining your trust back isn’t going to happen over a single night of make up sex. I know. I know this isn’t going to be easy, and I know it’s going to take time. But I’ll make it worth it. Piece by piece I’ll fix what I broke. Just let me try. Please? Take me back. Take all of me, and I’ll never give up whatever you give me back. I love you.”

“Say that again. That last part.”

“I love you.”

“One more time.”

Steve grinned, moving to close the space between him and Bucky. “I love you,” he whispered, his lips brushing against Bucky’s cheeks. “I love you. And nothing will ever change that.”

Bucky turned his head, nuzzling his nose against Steve’s. “God I’ve been waiting so long to hear you say that.”

“I’ll say it until my lungs give out.”

The fingers of Bucky’s right hand curled into a fist around Steve’s shirt. “Stay with me tonight? And maybe every night after that?”

Steve grinned wider. “I’ll stay as long as you want me to.”

“Forever. Because that’s how long I’m gonna love you.”

“Does this mean we’re at the part where I thank you?” Steve asked with a sly smile.

“Only if that thanks includes you winding up in my bed.”

“I think we can arrange that.”

“God, I love you.”

Tag List

@cxddlyash @stanofalotofthings @philthepegacorn @youngblood199456 @binxiboo @creator-appreciator @felixtok @iknowyouthinkimbulletproof @jessalyn-jpeg @lilyoflower @mychemicalimagines @rougese7en @milea @partiesandblurrypolaroids @summerdaughter

#lover of mine #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fic #steve rogers #steve rogers fic #bucky barnes x steve rogers #stucky #marvel #calpal irwin

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owl-with-a-pen · 4 years ago

Note

I would love to see a Valentine’s Day chapter with Brainy and nia. We didn’t get to see much of it on that one episode, beside that fact Brainy went to her party and gave her chocolates that Yvette ate later. Just a simple one where Brainy is super sweet and asks nia to be his valentine wether this is before or after they’re together. Thanks!

Anon also asked: Hi there! would you ever think of doing a valentine's themed fic for brania? I miss them so much and I love your work!

- I know I’m a day late, but I hope you guys enjoy! Thanks for the prompts x

Valentine’s Day was going to be weird this year, Nia knew it.

After everything Brainy had been through over the last few months, the last thing Nia wanted was to push the most commercial of commercial holidays on him, especially considering they’d never actually had a Valentine’s Day together. She couldn’t exactly count the epic failure that had been their first Valentine’s party on account of the fact that they hadn’t seen each other the whole night.

And, last year?

There was no use sugar coating it; they’d both been going through hell last year. The break-up had still been fresh in Nia’s mind and although Kara had tried to help her out of the funk she’d been in, Nia had still spent the whole day curled up on the sofa - her only hot date that night had been with an ice cold tub of Ben and Jerry’s.

Now that Nia understood the reason behind their break-up, she knew that Brainy hadn’t been faring any better than her at the time, either. The only thing he’d had to keep his mind occupied were the asinine tasks Lex had kept him performing as placeholders whenever a new piece of his plan had yet to unfold.

Nia tried not to linger on that year. What mattered now was that the truth was finally out. Brainy was safe and healthy and, most importantly, he was finally starting to feel like himself again.

Nia didn’t care that Brainy hadn’t so much as made mention of the holiday – not even after Kara had invited them to a lowkey Valentine’s get together at her place later that evening, an invitation that had only been extended as far as the Super Friends. Considering Brainy had been reluctant to hang out with everyone as a group since Leviathan, Nia was only glad that he’d wanted to go at all. Besides, she didn’t care about gifts or celebrations, she was just thankful to put the past behind her and finally have Brainy back in her life.

Which was why she was all the more surprised to open their apartment door that evening and find Brainy stood on the other side, a bunch of roses held tightly in one hand.

A grin lit up Nia’s face in an instant. “Hey,” she said, not even trying to hide the glee from her voice. “Are those for me?”

“Indeed,” Brainy said, taking a step forward. In the same motion, he removed his other hand from behind his back, revealing a heart shaped box of chocolates. “I – uh – appreciate we have never successfully completed a Valentine’s Day tradition before, so allow this to be the first.”

Nia didn’t think she could smile any harder if she tried. She took the flowers from Brainy, the fresh scent of their petals brushing against her nose as she brought them to her face. She felt a blush race across her cheeks. “Real flowers, huh?” she asked mischievously.

Brainy’s lips quirked into a small smile of his own. “That is the custom,” he said, offering the chocolate box out to her with a practiced flourish. “As is this.” He cleared his throat, raising his chin. “Nia Nal, will you be my Valentine?”

A blush flooded across Nia’s face as she grinned again, nodding hard. “Yes, Brainy, of course I’ll be your Valentine.” She accepted the chocolates from Brainy’s hand, juggling them along with the flowers until they were both cradled in one arm.

“This is amazing,” she said honestly, closing the space between them so that she could hug him with her free arm. She ducked her face into Brainy’s shoulder, squeezing him tight.

The warmth of him spread through her face as she buried her head into his throat. A moment later, she could feel Brainy’s hands travelling around her waist, pressing firmly against the small of her back. His touch sent something electric dancing up Nia’s spine and she softened against him, pulling away just enough to press a kiss against his lips.

When they parted, Nia didn’t miss the elated glimmer behind Brainy’s eyes. It was such a soft expression, one that hadn’t adorned Brainy’s face for so long, Nia had almost begun to forget what it looked like. Now that Brainy had begun to relax into himself, that happiness had become far more commonplace, although it still warmed Nia’s heart whenever she got to see that expression and know that she was the cause of it. Impetuously, Nia reached for Brainy’s face, brushing her thumb along his jaw, hoping to preserve that smile for as long as possible.

She blinked suddenly, realising belatedly that they were still stood in the middle of the doorway. “I should really put these in water,” she said, hugging the flowers against her side. She ushered Brainy inside with her free hand, turning to the kitchen to find a vase. “And by the way,” she continued over her shoulder, placing the heart-shaped box on the closest counter, “this isn’t technically the first time you’ve bought me a Valentine’s gift.”

Nia didn’t need to turn her head to know the face Brainy was pulling. “Ah, yes,” he murmured apprehensively. “Although, I wouldn’t say our first Valentine’s Day necessarily went… according to plan.”

“Oh, I remember,” Nia said, selecting an empty glass vase from the top shelf. She headed to the faucet, filling it with water. When she glanced up, she found Brainy watching her from across the kitchen counter, his arms folded across its surface. She smirked. “Didn’t you spend most of that party hidden in my closet?”

Brainy offered a tight smile, ducking his head. “Yvette was certainly a force to be reckoned with,” he admitted lowly, glancing up at her. “Although, I do appreciate you talking with her about boundaries.”

Nia’s expression softened. “Any time.”

She’d known Yvette hadn’t meant to take Brainy out of his comfort zone by dragging him to the dancefloor that night. Considering Nia had made herself MIA for most of that party – a party she’d specifically invited Brainy to - Yvette had only wanted for him to feel included.

But, the party hadn’t been Brainy’s thing to begin with. She’d left him to his own devices in a room otherwise filled with strangers, and maybe at the time she hadn’t realised just how anxious Brainy got in those sorts of situations, but she knew better now. Still, it didn’t stop her from feeling all kinds of crappy that she’d allowed that to happen, even if her head hadn’t totally been in the game at the time.

Nia played with the roses’ arrangement in their new home, spreading them equally around the vase. She sighed. “I didn’t exactly make that night any easier for you, though.”

“You had a lot on your mind,” Brainy said softly.

Yeah, Nia thought. She’d been so obsessed with finally making strides towards her role as a hero, taking up the mantle her mom had so proudly left for her, she’d even dismissed Brainy’s incredibly sweet gesture the first time around, disregarding his gift of chocolates in favour of a new training regime. But, not anymore. This time, they were doing this right.

“Well,” she said decisively, setting the vase to the side, “right now, my mind’s totally clear.” She glanced again towards the box of chocolates, biting the inside of her cheek. “C’mon,” she said, snatching them from the counter. “We can share these.”

As she walked around the breakfast bar, she took Brainy’s arm, urging him towards the sofa. Brainy followed curiously a pace behind her.

As Nia settled, tucking her legs beneath her, she popped open the box, reading the label on the inside. She grinned. “There’s coffee flavour ones in here, too? Okay, I take back what I just said. We can share any except for those.”

Brainy supressed an obvious shudder as he sat down. “They are… all yours.”

“What?” Nia prodded playfully, nudging his arm. “Not a fan?”

Brainy wrinkled his nose, gesturing vaguely ahead of himself. “I just don’t understand how two opposing flavours serve to compliment one another.”

“Oh, and yet apples and olives are just… a natural choice on pizza,” Nia scoffed.

“Either one would be far more palatable covered in chocolate.”

Nia rolled her eyes. “Hey, I’ll agree with you about the apples,” she said, already perusing the selection, trying to find the coffee flavoured truffle as advertised on the card. “But, I’m pretty sure chocolate covered olives are a crime against nature.” She beamed when she found her prize, taking a large bite out of the candy. When Brainy’s face scrunched in disgust, she laughed, covering her mouth before any wayward chocolate dribbled out.

She held the chocolates out on her lap for Brainy to browse, which only fuelled the next twenty minutes’ topic of discussion with good natured jabs aimed towards each other’s preferred chocolate flavours.

By the time they needed to head out for Kara’s party, the first layer had been all but demolished.

“We should probably get going,” Nia said as she spied the time on the kitchen clock. She pecked Brainy’s cheek before unfurling herself from his side, stretching out her arms.

When she stood, she realised that Brainy hadn’t followed her up. Instead, there was a reserved look in his eyes, a nervous twist to his lips as he remained sat on the sofa’s edge, toying absently with his Legion ring.

“Brainy?” Nia asked, her voice softening. When Brainy looked up, she smiled gently. “Everything okay?”

Brainy opened his mouth as though he might answer, but instead, no words came out. Nia sat back down, resting her hand on his leg. “Hey, you sure you’re up for this? You know there’s no pressure.”

Brainy shook himself a little, clenching and unclenching his hand hesitantly. “I do,” he said carefully, glancing back towards her. “I am. It’s just…”

“I get it,” Nia said, squeezing his leg. And, she did. Even though the gathering would be small, filled with the people Brainy cared about, on some level, Nia understood that that was what he was dreading the most. As much as he knew that his friends had forgiven him, the real issue was that Brainy hadn’t yet reached a place where he’d been able to forgive himself. It’d come in time, but if he refused every get-together or social gathering entirely, it’d only take him that much longer to reach the obvious conclusion.

That he was loved. And that was never going to change.

And, hey, what better time to remind him of that than on Valentine’s Day?

“I’ll be with you the whole time,” Nia assured him. “And, if you’re not feeling it, we don’t have to stay for long. What d’you say?”

After a long moment’s consideration, Brainy glanced down, taking Nia’s hand. He smiled, a little of his confidence returning as he nodded his head. “Okay,” he said.

Nia grinned. “Okay.”

Maybe she’d been wrong, maybe Valentine’s wasn’t going to feel as weird this year. After all, with flowers, chocolate, and finally having the chance to spend the day with Brainy at her side, Nia realised that maybe this might turn out to be the best Valentine’s Day she’d ever had.

#supergirl #my writing #my prompts #icey-slice #brainia #nia nal #brainiac 5 #querl dox #brainy #i did plan to post this yesterday but i ended up just not having the time #but hey! better late than never amiright

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jaskiers-sweetkiss · 4 years ago

Text

Sunset Swerve - Part 4

Pairings: Luke x OC

Word Count: 3.7K

Warnings: none?

A/N: This one’s a bit longer but now we’re officially through episode 3! As always, let me know what you think and message me if you’d like to be added to the taglist!

Part 3 Masterlist

___

“We have to do something to help Julie with Flynn,” Jordan said firmly when they landed in the garage. “It’s our fault she’s in this mess.”

“I still don’t understand why she can’t just tell her about us,” Luke said and Jordan sighed.

“Seeing ghosts, real or not, isn’t really ever perceived as a one-hundred percent good thing, especially when you’ve just lost a parent.” She explained quietly and Luke nodded, suddenly unable to meet her eyes.

When she turned to look at the other guys she was met with a curious stare from Alex as if he was trying to figure out what was going on between them.

“How’re you holding up?” She deflected, trying to get away from his scrutiny.

“Not great, actually,” Alex admitted beginning to pace in front of the couch where Luke and Reggie had plopped down.

Jordan crossed the room to join them, perching on the arm of the couch.

“I think he’s practicing his model strut,” Reggie speculated in a whisper and Jordan rolled her eyes.

“He’s so nervous it’s making me nervous,” Luke admitted.

“Alright Alex, spill,” Jordan addressed the blond and he stopped to stand in front of them.

“Okay, look, you guys know I don’t handle change well,” he spoke, waving his hands around anxiously. “Alright? Death? That was a change. Okay, then we became ghosts, alright? Another change. And- and now we can be seen whenever we play with Julie. Big fucking change!”

“Yeah but, bro, it was a good change!” Luke exclaimed. “With Julie we can play on stage again and be the band we never got to be! C’mon, you gotta be down for that.”

“I mean, yeah, who wouldn’t be?” Alex gulped, “I just… I wanna figure out why.”

“Forget why!” Jordan elbowed the brunet and he cursed, standing up to move away from her. “I say we invite Julie to join Sunset Curve.”

“Yeah, totally!” Reggie gasped, standing up as well. “I mean, like, think about it! With a new lead singer, this band would be legendary.”

“Hey! I’m our lead singer,” Luke pouted and Jordan snorted, earning a glare from the boy.

“Dude, that girl has the voice of an angel and she can make us visible,” Reggie explained, “Without her, we’re just elevator music.”

“I know, but you don’t gotta be so mean about it,” Luke whined, completely ignoring Alex who had begun pacing again.

“You deserve it,” Jordan quipped, receiving another glare from the boy.

“And we’re on the runway again!” He exclaimed, turning to see Alex’s pacing.

“Okay, I’m sorry, alright? I just…” Alex sighed, stopping his pacing. “I gotta go clear my head.”

He made a beeline for the door, attempting to grab the handle but his hand kept going through it.

“Dude you’re a ghost, just poof out,” Reggie said and Jordan leaned over to hit his arm.

“Don’t tell me how to ghost!” Alex cried before poofing away.

Jordan sighed when neither of the boys moved to do anything.

“I’m gonna go make sure he’s okay.” She said decisively, ignoring the boys’ arguments that he was fine as she poofed out.

When he had found her in the graveyard the day before he had said something about going someplace familiar, so she poofed to the first place she thought of: the Orpheum.

It didn’t take long for her to figure out he wasn’t there but she decided to wander around Hollywood to look. Sunset Curve had spent a lot of time in the area, playing gigs and just hanging out. She had stopped to scrutinize the costume of a fake Marilyn Monroe on the Walk of Fame when she spotted him. She immediately started walking towards him but stopped once she noticed that he wasn’t alone. He was talking to some long-haired skater boy and she silently awed when she saw the look on his face. Not wanting to interrupt his serendipitous meeting and comforted by the fact that he wasn’t alone, she poofed away before he could spot her.

She’d tried to poof to Reggie, wanting to tell him about the skater boy but she was immediately distracted upon arrival.

“What the hell guys?” She asked rhetorically, “Did you seriously learn nothing from yesterday?”

Once again Luke and Reggie were in Julie’s room, the latter once again laying on his bed. However, what Luke was doing was considerably worse. The boy was sat on the floor with Julie’s dream box open in front of him as he rifled through the pieces of paper.

“Did you not hear anything she said about boundaries?” The dark-haired girl huffed, attempting to close the dream box.

When her hand just went through the lid she plopped down in front of the box, pouting at her lack of ghostly abilities.

“This is perfect!” Luke gasped triumphantly, finally looking upon from the piece of paper in his hands. He jumped slightly when he noticed Jordan as if he had been so involved in whatever was on the paper that his brain hadn’t registered her presence. “Oh, hey Moss. When did you get back?”

Jordan raised her brows in surprise. “Wow, and I thought Reggie was the oblivious one.”

“Hey!” Reggie protested, sitting up on the bed only to be met with identically ‘come on’ looks from the ghosts on the floor. “Okay, fine, you’re right.”

“Anyway,” Luke redirected, sending one last side-eye at Reggie before addressing the room. “This poem would make killer song lyrics!”

“Ooh! Lemme see,” Reggie scrambled off the bed to lean over Luke. “Flying Solo. This looks great.” He mused.

“C’mon, we should start writing the melodies,” Luke said, poofing away to the garage, Reggie following suit but not before waving goodbye to Jordan who was still sitting on the ground. The girl dropped her disapproving look to smile at the boy before he disappeared.

She sat alone in the room for another minute before sighing and pushing herself off the carpet. She wandered through the house, searching for something to occupy her time now that all the guys were busy and Julie was at school. After a period of aimless wandering- time seemed to flow differently now that she was dead- she stumbled across a large bookshelf and paused. Jordan hadn’t read a book since ’95 but it had been one of her favorite pastimes after music. She browsed the selection of mostly unrecognizable title- of course plenty of hits had been published in the twenty-five years since she had passed- until she settled on a novel heralded as ‘The Next Harry Potter’ though she had no idea who Harry Potter was. The book was well worn as if it had been read many times and as far as Jordan was concerned, that was the tell-tale sign of a good book.

She pulled the blue-green book from the shelf, taking it with her as she poofed to the garage. The book showing endeavor had taken quite a bit of time as the books had kept falling through her ghost hands. Fortunately, none of the Molina’s had been home to hear the multiple thuds.

Despite the amount of time she had spent in the house, when she arrived in the studio Reggie and Luke were still stood around the piano working on their new song. Neither boy acknowledge her appearance- too immersed in their work- so she laid down on the couch and immersed herself in 2012 New York.

She wasn’t sure how long she’s laid there in silence, only that she’d reached Chapter 8: We Capture a Flag when her attention was finally drawn away. The guys had moved from writing to working it out on their instruments (which Jordan had selectively ignored because they wouldn’t listen to her anyway) when Julie got home from school.

“Guys! You’re not supposed to be out here playing alone,” she said, giving them her signature ‘are you serious?’ look.

“But we’re not alone,” Reggie explained as Luke came up to hold him from behind, “Because we always have each other!”

“Ugh,” Jordan groaned, rolling her eyes at their cheesiness.

“Agreed,” Julie quipped, smiling briefly at the ghost girl before moving to unplug both boys’ instruments from their amps.

“But we had the volume on level one!” Luke protested.

“But we rocked it on volume ten!” Reggie added, “Want us to play it again?”

“I really don’t think she does,” Luke whispered to the boy as Julie unplugged his amp, dropping the cord to the ground menacingly.

“We’ve actually been waiting for you to get home,” Luke changed directions, hoping to avoid the Latina’s wrath. “Okay, so, we have some pretty major news to tell you. We had a band meeting earlier and…” He pointed at Reggie who began a drumroll on his legs.

“We want you to join Sunset Curve! And no, you’re not dreaming,” The brunet exclaimed, looking very proud of himself.

Julie, however, looked less thrilled. “Oh.”

“Oh? That’s what you say when you get socks for Christmas, not when you get asked to join the most epic band ever!”

“Second most epic band,” Jordan spoke up from the couch where she had set aside her book momentarily to watch this unfold.

Luke glared at her while Julie began to explain herself.

“Sorry, I’m honored, but I can’t think about anything but Flynn right now. She’s still mad at me for lying, she hasn’t even texted me back!”

“Yeah, you’re in a tough spot,” Luke started, though clearly he wasn’t really considering what the girl had said, “So, you wanna join the band?”

“Read the room, dude.” Julie glared, turning to walk out of the garage.

“Way to be sincere doofus,” Jordan said harshly, returning to her book.

“Oh, come on!” Luke called, getting the girl to stop before the doors, “We need you and you need us because you need music! We found this poem that you wrote-“

“She’s gonna be pissed,” Jordan said in a sing-song voice, eyes trained on her book but clearly still listening.

“Reggie and I added this really cool melody to it. It sounds awesome!” Luke continued, ignoring Jordan.

“Where’d you find that?” Julie asked warily.

“Uh… definitely not in your dream box,” Luke lied, pulling Reggie in front of him to protect himself from Julie, clearly forgetting that she could just walk right through the ghost bassist.

“You went through my stuff?!” She shouted, quickly advancing on the guitarist while Reggie jumped out of the way.

“Told you,” Jordan muttered, though it was lost in the chaos of the room.

“I know, but-” Luke tried to excuse but was cut off by Reggie.

“Yeah, we can do that now!” The dark-haired ghost responded, completely contradicting his bandmate.

“No! No you can’t! Boundaries!” Julie shouted, reaching across the piano towards Luke. “Give it back!”

“No!” Luke denied, climbing onto the piano bench. “You need to realize how insanely talented you are! Okay? Listen to this:

“If somebody hurts you, I’m gonna get hurt too, and my life my life would be real low, zero, flying solo.”

“Oh-Oh” Reggie echoed from behind Julie and Luke grinned at him before turning back to the girl in front of him.

“It’s a killer melody,” he said.

“I wrote that about Flynn when she was helping me with all my mom stuff,” Julie sighed. “I gotta go.”

“Hey! What about the band!” Luke called after her as she turned to leave again.

Oh, I almost forgot,” She spoke, turning back around and an excited look grew on Luke’s face. “Stay out of my room!”

“Yeah?” Luke called, running after her and sticking his head through the door, “We will if you join our band!”

“Idiot,” Jordan muttered, finally turning her full attention back to the book.

She did her best to ignore the shuffling around her as the boys moved about. She was mostly successful, managing to get in a full page of reading before Reggie poked the back of her hand and she pulled her attention away to glare at him.

“What do you want?” She groaned as she turned to look at the two boys who were now seated in front of the couch.

“So, you’re a girl,” Luke started and Jordan snorted.

“Very astute observation, Sherlock,” she quipped, turning back to her book with the intention of ignoring them completely.

“Just let me finish!”

“That’s what she said.”

“Jordan!” He whined, wrinkling his nose in distaste. “Please?”

She sighed, closing the book and setting it down next to her as she swung her legs around to sit up on the sofa.

“Fine. Yes, I am a girl, what do you need?”

“We thought you might have some insight on what to do about Julie?” He said, though his unsureness made it sound like a question.

“She’s not going to even think about joining your band until she’s smoothed things over with Flynn. She’s her best friend and she means more to her than music does.”

“Woah. How’d you figure all that out?” Reggie asked, amazed.

“Girl code, man!” Luke answered, hitting Reggie’s chest.

“She’s literally said all of that to you within the last twenty-four hours,” Jordan said, staring at them with a look of pure disbelief. “There’s no ‘code’, you guys just don’t listen.”

“Okay, so how do we fix things with Julie and Flynn?” Luke said, selectively ignoring what she had just said.

“I hate to say it,” she sighed, “But you guys might already be on the right track with the song. Julie said she wrote the poem about Flynn, so maybe if she performs the song for her, Flynn’ll see how much their friendship means to her.”

“That’s a great idea!” Luke exclaimed and Jordan smirked, jokingly flipping her hair over her shoulder dramatically. “C’mon! Let’s get to work.”

Jordan moved to return to her reading when she noticed the brunet was staring pointedly at her.

“What do you need me for?”

“Well, Reggie and I can’t write the piano part.”

____

“So, when she says ‘deep-dish’, do you think she’s talking about pizza?” Reggie asked in all seriousness.

Jordan, who had kept playing the piano despite the other two ghosts dropping out, stopped playing then in shock.

“Dude,” she breathed, at this point in awe of the boy’s cluelessness.

It was just then that Alex decided to show up, poofing in right on top of the piano between Reggie and Luke.

“Oh! Hey man, where you been?” Reggie asked, immediately distracted from his previous question.

“Um, kinda everywhere,” Alex answered, “Yeah. No, I met a new ghost friend.”

“For real?” Reggie asked, amazed.

“Wait, cute skater boy was a ghost?” Jordan asked from behind them, brows raised in surprise.

“Yeah he- wait, how’d you know that?” He asked, turning around to peer at the girl behind the piano.

“Hm? Oh! I went to check on you after you left but when I found you, you had already found him so I just came back,” Jordan shrugged and Alex nodded.

“Yeah, anyway, he answered a ton of questions.”

“Like whether Julie’s gonna join the band or not?” Luke asked through the guitar pick he still held between his teeth.

“Uh… well we didn’t... didn’t really get to that,” Alex muttered, giving Luke a weird stare before turning back to Jordan and Reggie. “But, I think I know why we’re here. Okay? All ghosts have, like, unfinished business. So we have t do our unfinished business so that we can cross over.”

“Why would we do that?” Luke asked, immediately drawing everyone’s attention in a mix of shock and confusion.

“Some of us might actually want to cross over,” Jordan said crossly, frowning at the boy.

“I’m just saying, this is like our second chance. All we need to do is get Julie to play with us.” He explained and Reggie nodded.

“Not only can that girl sing, she can write too. Luke and I made a killer melody to one of her songs!” Jordan cleared her throat and Reggie blushed, adding on, “And Jordan helped too.”

“Oh… without your drummer, cool,” Alex mumbled as he looked over the song Luke had just handed him.

“Drumming is so ’90s,” Luke joked, clapping his friend lightly on the back. “We’re just gonna… stomp our feet now.”

��Okay. Well, you know what else is so ‘90s?” Alex responded, “Being rude. All right? Get woke, these are sensitive times.”

“Alex! Ow…” Luke whined quietly as Alex forcefully returned his notebook.

“I learned that from my ghost friend,” Alex whispered to Reggie and Jordan.

“What so they don’t say ‘fly’ anymore but they say ‘woke’?” Jordan muttered in a mix of confusion and distaste.

“‘Woke.’” Reggie repeated. “That’s a cool word, what does it mean?”

“No clue.”

Jordan chuckled lightly before noticing the petulant look on Luke’s face.

“Well, now that Alex is here maybe we can properly work on this song?” She proposed, “We gotta fix things with Julie and Flynn; we got her into this mess in the first place.”

The boys all nodded, Alex moving off the piano so they could all see each other. Fortunately, Luke and Reggie had already worked out most of their own parts and now all they needed were the piano and drum set. They got a good few minutes in working together, Alex drumming on the piano with his hands while Jordan played as quietly as possible, the four of them stopping every few lines to scribble in rhythms. They had the song just about finished when Julie burst into the garage.

“Grab your instruments, we need to rehearse the song.”

The four ghosts looked between themselves in confusion.

“I need to prove to Flynn that you’re ghosts but we only have a half-hour to rehearse, let’s go!” She exclaimed, clapping her hands together as if to say ‘chop-chop”.

The guys began to scramble around the room getting everything set up, and Jordan handed Julie her piano part before retiring to the couch once more. She laid back down, grabbing her book and flipping to the page she had left off on while the new Sunset Curve began to rehearse their new hit.

The half-hour flew by quickly and before they knew it Flynn was knocking on the door of the garage.

“Thanks for coming,” Julie smiled as she opened the doors. “We just wanted to rehearse the song so it was perfect, which it’s not, but whatever.”

Jordan put her book down, wanting to watch what happened.

“No, if I’m gonna hear a song from your imaginary ghost band, it needs to be perfect.” Flynn objected, “So get back in there, all of you. You too.” She said, pointing around the space at the imaginary ghosts.

“Wow, she was way off,” Reggie said and the rest of the ghosts shook their heads. “I’m over here!!”

“They’re not out here,” Julie informed Flynn with a chuckle, gesturing the girl inside the garage.

“Oh, I know.”

“Alright guys, you ready?” Julie asked, looking back towards the guys who all gave thumbs up.

“Um, Julie?” Reggie spoke up, “Can you move Flynn? I need room to, y’know, rock out.”

Julie laughed but complied with his request, ushering Flynn to one of the chairs in front of the setup.

“If you’ll notice, there’s no equipment that can create a hologram. Feel free to look around the room.” Julie spoke, taking her place behind the keyboard.

She took a deep breath before addressing her friend, “The guys took a poem I wrote about you and put it to music.”

“Aww! I wish I didn’t have to talk to your dad after this,” Flynn sassed and Jordan laughed.

“I like her.” She said, and Julie glanced her way with a smile.

“It’s called Flying Solo, I hope you like it,” Julie introduced the song before beginning to play.

Jordan could see the song working on Flynn right from the start, the girl clearly vibing with the music and lyrics. At the risk of sounding cheesy, she felt like she was watching their friendship mend itself.

Flynn screamed when the chorus hit and the guys joined in, immediately becoming visible. Julie stepped away from the piano to crouch in front of her best friend, singing the next verse directly to her before pulling her up to rock out with the guys for the chorus. Jordan tried to hide the bouncing of her own leg to the beat, not wanting to admit she too was vibing with Luke’s song. Though, the boy had clearly noticed, moving over to the mic stand that had been left next to the couch. He perched on the end, making sure to smirk superiorly at her and she rolled her eyes, crossing her arms stubbornly.

As she sang, Julie guided Flynn around the room to each of the boys, ending with Reggie as they reached a break in the song, the guys continued to play lightly in order to stay visible. Flynn experimentally stuck her hand through Reggie before retracting it quickly in alarm.

“Weird right?” Reggie spoke and Flynn gasped.

“They’re ghosts!” She exclaimed and Julie nodded.

“Uh, we prefer musician spirits,” Alex corrected jokingly and Reggie nodded, pointing affirmatively at the drummer.

“Where’s the other one?” Flynn asked, peering around the room, “The girl?”

“Oh, Jordan’s on the couch. I honestly don’t know why she’s not playing.” Julie turned to look at the girl in question and Jordan shrugged.

“Not my song, not my band.”

“Hey, Julie?” Luke called, redirecting the living girls’ attention. “Does this mean you’re joining our band?”

“Actually, I think you’re joining her band,” Flynn interjected matter-of-factly.

“I’m gonna go with what she said,” Julie grinned, slinging an arm around her best friend. “You too Jordan,” she added, gesturing to the dark-haired girl.

Jordan smiled brightly at the invite, poofing behind the piano as the band started back up.

Julie and Flynn immediately moved over to her as she picked up the piano part. It felt nice to rock out with the girls and it felt even more gratifying when the guys dropped out, leaving only the piano part and Julie’s voice as she sang to her friend.

The four ghosts exchanged smiles with each other, Luke and Jordan to high off the performance to care about their rivalry.

“Still wanna talk to my dad?” Julie asked when the song had finished.

“No, I’m good,” Flynn responded and the girls hugged, the four ghosts vanishing from sight.

Part 5

___

Taglist: @oopsiedoopsie23 @meangirlsx @angryknightstatesmantrash @onlygetaway

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gumnut-logic · 4 years ago

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His giggle was infectious.

His little brother leapt from rock to rock, darting to peer into every pool he encountered, several times exclaiming at his discoveries and nattering off some long Latin name that meant absolutely nothing to Virgil. How one mollusc differed from another was something for a biologist to decide, not an artist.

Of course, every now and again, a shell would be shoved in his face, and the colours would catch his eyes. Virgil would take the shell, listen to the babbling, and stare at the pinks and oranges, calculate what he could do with those colours and then surreptitiously slide the found object into his pocket.

His pocket was clinking as he walked over the rocks.

The crab that was shoved in his face was a whole different kettle of crustacean. “Hey, Gords, c’mon, I want to keep my nose attached to my face.”

“Virg, it’s only a common rock crab. And a little one at that.” The so called common bearer of claws waved them in anger at Virgil.

“Yeah, well, can you put it back where it belongs? It looks ticked off at your interruption of its day.”

His little brother crouched back down at the edge of a larger rock pool and returned the crab to its hidey-hole.

They were on holiday.

Well, technically on holiday. Dad was still working and had disappeared for the day, leaving Scott in charge. The terrible two had immediately taken advantage of that fact and proceeded to make everyone’s life hell.

Before his eighteen year old brother could blow a fuse, Virgil had intervened and offered to take ten year old Gordon down to the shore for some rock pooling. It was an activity Virgil could tolerate, even enjoy, and it separated the synergy of the two youngest.

The relief in Scott’s eyes had been worth it.

No doubt, either Scott or John would be having the pleasure of setting up Alan’s backyard rocket set at this very moment.

Hopefully Scott, otherwise John would be adapting the mechanics and the silly thing would actually reach orbit, never be seen again and the wailing from their youngest would last the rest of the weekend.

But shells, crabs and the occasional anemone was Virgil’s concern at the moment.

The coastline was some kind of limestone and consequently peppered with holes for the receding tide to leave trapped sea creatures behind.

A sudden yell of “Sand goby!” and Virgil was dragged over to see a tiny fish barely two inches long and the same colour as the sand it was sitting on staring up at the two of them.

“I saw them darting about, but this one is the first to stay still enough. Look at those eyes!”

Looked like a tiny lizard of the sea.

Gordon touched the surface of the water and the fish disappeared in a cloud of displaced sand.

“Look how fast they are!” A glance at his brother and he found him literally buzzing with excitement.

“When we get back to the house, you can look it up. Did you get a photo?”

Gordon grinned up at him, brandishing the camera in his hand. “Yep. Wait until I show, Scotty.”

Virgil snorted. Scott knew even less than Virgil about ocean fauna, but he would love to see Gordon so excited.

Scott was a sucker for happy brothers.

As Gordon scampered over to the next rock pool, Virgil had to admit he quite enjoyed seeing Gordon like this, too.

“Woah! Virg, come look at this!”

Rolling his eyes, Virgil straightened and followed obediently, stepping from outcrop to outcrop to crouch beside his almost vibrating brother.

Gordon was pointing at a rock.

“What am I looking at, Gordon. All I see is rock.”

“Watch this.” Gordon stuck a finger into the water and prodded the ‘rock’.

It lit up in bright blue rings.

Now, Virgil didn’t know much about sea life, but he did know about this particular life form.

He grabbed Gordon’s arm and Gordon himself and yanked him away from the rock pool. Unfortunately, that unbalanced the both of them and they promptly fell into the rock pool next door.

Considering what they had just encountered, Virgil was none too happy about this state of affairs and, spluttering, staggered to his feet, dragging his protesting little brother as far away from the offending puddle of water as he could.

“Virgil! What? Why? Lemme go!”

“Gordon, you know exactly what that is. Why the hell did you touch it?!”

“It won’t hurt me! And it is amazing. Lemme go! I’ve never seen one before and I want to look at it some more!”

“You are not going anywhere near it. In fact, we are getting off this beach right now!”

“Aww, Virg, c’mon! It won’t hurt us!”

“It’s a blue-ringed octopus Gordon! It bites you, you’re dead!”

“It’s not going to bite me!”

“It looked angry enough after you poked it. Why the hell did you poke it?”

“Uh, to see the rings? It’s amazing.”

“It’s a deadly octopus!”

“God, Virg, get over it. I know what I’m doing.”

“Yeah, well, I know what I’m doing and I’m taking you back to the house where you can explain to Scott exactly what you were doing.”

“Aww, Virgil, please. I thought you were the cool one. The one who understood.”

Virgil blinked. “What?”

And his brother sagged before him. “I thought you understood.”

“Understood what?”

“How much fun this is.”

A frown and Virgil’s heart slowed a little. Gordon’s head had dropped and he was looking at the ground. “Gordon?”

“You, Virgil. All the others just talk about planes and space and flying. You’re the only one who listens to me when I talk about this stuff.”

His frown deepened and he reached out a hand and placed it on his little brother’s shoulder.

“I’m always the odd one out. Everyone else wants to go to the military museums, not the natural history museums. You always stand up for me and come with me. I know you don’t like it as much as I do, but you help.”

Okay, so his little brother knew how to get into his heart and twist it. Of course, this was Gordon and the little rat had his ways, but the honesty on his face was plain and it got inside Virgil’s softy sixteen year old heart.

Virgil sighed. “Okay, I get it. You have a point.” Though he had to admit, Virgil had dragged Scott through a number of art museums in the past. The boredom on his brother’s face had been epic, but Scott had done it for him.

A sigh. “I’ll make you a deal. No prodding deadly wildlife. You take note and step out of harm’s way. For both your health and mine.” And the rest of the family’s.

Russet brown eyes caught the sun and literally bloomed in excitement. His brother’s innate bouncing resumed. “Deal!”

Virgil rolled his eyes and let his brother go. Gordon didn’t give him a chance to change his mind and darted off towards the nearest rock pool.

He stood there and watched his little brother dart from pool to pool and after a moment, before he could get too far away, resumed his unhurried stroll down the beach with him.

He did understand his little brother and he appreciated his fascination with all things sea and he would help him reach those places that he loved.

Latin bounced down the beach towards him and Virgil grinned.

Ten minutes later. “Ooh, look, Virg, it is just like a miniature box jellyfish!”

Wha-?

Virgil ran.

-o-o-o-

FIN.

Jimbles, Bluebottles & Blue-ringed Octopuses :D

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #Virgil Tracy #Gordon Tracy #nuttyfic reblog

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canonicallysoulmates · 3 years ago

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Here are my thoughts and opinions on the first season of Loki.

First of all, if you have not re-watched this season I highly recommend it. It’s only 6hrs, pick a day, get some snacks, binge the whole thing especially if you weren’t a big fan of it the first time around because re-watching it I noticed some things that I hadn’t before but I also found myself liking some things that I hadn’t the first time around. Which is why I recommend re-watching it, cause maybe it’ll be the same for y’all and you’ll find some new things to love, and end up enjoying some things you hadn’t before. It’s really a different experience to watch the whole thing together than when you watch week to week which makes sense cause MCU shows are meant to be movie-esque.

Now, I’ve spoken pretty positively about this show almost on the daily so let’s switch it up and start with the negatives aka the things that I personally didn’t like because while I enjoyed a lot of this show there are things I wasn’t a fan of and things that did irk me a lot; the first thing is very much a pet peeve: the title sequence, I’ve mentioned it before in passing but it reminds me too much of Gravity Falls and Bill Cipher, I gave it 6 episodes, 12 if you count the re-watches, and I just don’t like it at all, I get what they were going for but I don’t think it fits the show and I’m hoping they change it for s2.

But that’s a small thing, I can deal with that, the two (technically three) big things I didn’t like - and I think this is why episode 1 is my least favorite and to me the weakest of the season - is the way the show completely ignores Odin’s abuse and the effect that had on Loki, and the way he’s written in the first three episodes. I will go into detail.

I have no shame in admitting that I am pretty forgiving when it comes to this show and its flaws but the one thing I cannot forgive is how it not only ignores Odin’s abusive behavior but tries to paint him as a loving father and like Loki was the one in the wrong using the most insulting way possible which is that scene in Ragnarok where Odin tells his sons he loves them as if an ‘I love you’ undid years of abuse and bad parenting; it shouldn’t surprise me that they did this because the mcu does have a history and a pattern of being abuse apologists like portraying Thanos killing Gamora to get the soul stone as him loving her, or completely ignoring the horrible father that Howard Stark was. But it still really pisses me off that this show in which a big theme is exploring Loki psychologically and emotionally doesn’t even make mention of what a horrible father Odin was! And it tries to make it seem that just because Loki heard his father say a version of him that he loves him, that Loki suddenly thinks of him as a loving parent (referring to that line in episode 5 where he’s talking to Sylvie and says he has betrayed everyone who has loved him and mentions his asshole of a father instead of his mother!). I didn’t need them to go into details about this, but I did want them to call abuse abuse, and acknowledge Odin was a bad father. To me this is the biggest sin so far of this series. It doesn’t surprise me but it does disappoint me.

Connected to this, and in episode 1 we stay, is the “psychological exploration” of this character. I know after episode 1 a lot of fans were all “omg Loki finally got some therapy 😭” and then there’s me in the corner, shaking my head and saying no he didn’t, not at all, not even close. There was no therapy. And there was zero character exploration. I like Mobius but he is no Linda Martin.

All that happened was Loki being shown the consequences of his actions and being directly asked multiple times if he likes hurting people which of course he doesn’t, that’s not therapy at no point did Loki’s trauma get addressed, at no point did Loki get walked through that stuff or asked why he is how he is or what happened to change him from someone who was just mischievous to someone who caused harm.

Sorry to burst y’alls bubble but Loki did not get therapy in episode 1. Change Mobius lines about how Loki is just meant to cause pain and suffering and death for “imagined slights” and you’d have pretty much the same as every other MCU movie. At most what he got was an intervention to help him realize he didn’t want to be a bad person. Intervention and therapy are not the same thing.

And again, not surprised. If the mcu doesn’t properly explore their main, multiple movie having characters trauma and issues why were we expecting them to do it with Loki? Gotta keep those expectations in check. And in part I understand that the writers had a limited amount of time and they wanted to jump right into things but if they were gonna have only one episode with an emphasis on this they could have done a much better job while still jumping into the main story and moving on to character growth. To me this is the second biggest sin. And why episode 1 is ultimately my least favorite.

Last but not least, and something I can be more lenient and forgiving about but I still don’t like is the way Loki was written in the first three episodes. The way he was written was more comical to the point of borderline clown-ish sometimes which doesn’t match his personality at all, and don’t get me wrong there are times when it works but for the most part it just comes across as weird, like the writers were trying too hard to be funny and lighthearted at some points and it just doesn’t work, it ends up with him being a joke.

I’ll use a scene that I absolutely adore as a small example: Loki singing in episode 3. It’s one of my favorite scenes of the season, absolutely live for it, it lives in my head rent free in the VIP section but it’s a very flawed scene because Loki would never. Getting drunk on a mission is what Thor would do, not Loki, that is Thor through and through so as much as I love that scene, it is a flawed, ooc Loki scene.

The good thing is the show does improve in how it writes him in the last three eps, they stop trying so hard with the comedy, he’s more serious, more badass, he still has funny moments for example his reaction to Alligator Loki was hilarious but it’s more natural and fitting. So hopefully, in season 2 it will be the same writing team, and there will be more consistency and he’ll be written less comically and more badass.

Moving on to the positives, there are a lot of things I thoroughly enjoyed, starting with having Loki back on my screen and the center of attention- my baby, my darling, my love 💚 I’m so glad that he (and Tom!) is finally getting the attention, and love, and praise, and recognition that he has been deserving of all these years!

It gave me some of my favorite Loki scenes like I mentioned Loki singing it may be a flawed scene but I loved it nonetheless, it had some really cool fight scenes especially towards the end, it gave Loki a friend! A real friend! My baby is all grown up! 😭💚

The cinematography was beautiful, like you can say a lot about this show but you cannot deny that visually it is stunning and the directing was amazing. The soundtrack was pretty good too, I mean c’mon, ‘I need a Hero’? Iconic.

This show gave us Alligator Loki! How can one not love that! It kick started what looks to be the coolest aspect of Phase 4, it gave us bi, genderfluid Loki (which also brought out some of the ugliest sides of this fandom but this ain’t the time or place for that conversation 🙃), it gave me a new favorite character in Sylvie absolutely love her 💛

It gave me hope that the sun will shine again on Thor and Loki! That they’ll cross paths once again at some point and be reunited! And when they are, we better get that hug!

It gave me my new OTP in the form of Loki x Sylvie, they have great chemistry, and they’re super cute together, and they’re so good for one another and I just love them so much; I know it’s a “controversial” ship but I hope they stick to it and we get more of them in s2 because they are the best couple Marvel has ever given us they are passionate and cute and angsty, and they have the foundation for the most epic love story.

In conclusion, was Loki season 1 perfect? Was it everything I wanted? Nope. But ultimately, it gave me more that I enjoyed than not- also, I can tell this was something that was done with a lot of love and joy and effort put into it which as someone who has loved a show where the writer’s room noticeably didn’t give a rat’s ass, I can appreciate a lot.

Overall I’m very happy with the first season; I love this show, flaws and all, and I can’t wait for s2!

#loki #loki series #loki s1 #loki on disney+#loki series critical #anti odin #my opinion #mine #non spn

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st-just · 4 years ago

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Semi-coherent thoughts on The Way of Kings

So clearly Sanderson improved significantly as an author between series, or possibly I just clicked with this aesthetic more, but either way I liked this book a lot more than Mistborn. (Though I still don’t think any single book really needs to be 1300 pages). More in the back-half than in the front, admittedly, but even the table-setting was interesting. The final climax to the War plotline was really well done, if a bit Hollywood (but then, I suppose that’s not really something you can sit down to a multi-thousand page heroic epic fantasy series and complain about). Though honestly by the end I was nearly as invested in Shallan’s plotline - the final reveal with the parshmen was really well done, though gonna try real hard not to think too deeply about the subtext there. But still, the entire climax just made me grin like a fool, and the epilogue was a legitimate surprise, in a good way.

But, like, so the Parshendi are clearly, self-evidently in the right as far as the war goes, right? Like, there were plenty of humanizing hints through the book and I’m really hoping that they weren’t just a red herring for the leadup to the big reveal. And, semi-related, but I feel like I have to say – ‘docile, perfect slaves who will just sit until they’re killed by the elements without instruction, distinguished from real humans primarily by their bizarre skin, turn out to be the remnants of some ancient evil who, under the right circumstances, will rise up in revolt and slaughter the masters who foolishly let down their guard.’ C’mon man. Really?

Anyway, given the impression I’d gotten of Sanderson – both from people online talking about him and from reading Mistborn, I am really pleasantly surprised how, well, magical the magic felt (well, less so in Szeth’s POV, but even there to an extent). Kaladin’s gradual (via other people repeatedly pointing it out to him) was especially great. Though on that count I probably like soulcasting rather more than binding or whatever it’s called, entirely because of all the weird associated mysticism, and also because it seems to be very nearly FMA-alchemy.

Of the three main POVs, I’ll admit Dalinor’s was the least interesting to me by some margin (and I honestly can’t even remember how to spell his son’s name. But, like, the jock prince even less so). Still, the ending where he launches a coup d’etat and forces the king to declare him Shogun after credibly threatening his death was great. Although, yes, if I was the king I would probably be a bit paranoid in the situation where I have no land or power of my own, my bodyguards are entirely loyal to my uncle – one of the great landed magnates, suffering from messianic delusions/visions, not even hiding his relationship with my mother the queen dowager, just forced me to sign a deeply unpopular order granting him control of other nobles’ armed retainers – and will do absolutely nothing if he beats me half to death to make a point. Seems, uh, less than ideal.

I’ve been repeatedly told that Kaladin is basically the book’s main character, and that me getting more invested in his arc than the others is basically things going as intended. So, well, that pretty much worked. Though I’ll say right not that I do not remember a single name of any of his bridge-buddies. They’re fine as quirky supporting cast, granted, but that’s about it. Syl’s great though, easily in the running for best non-POV character (the spren generally are a really interesting bit of worldbuilding). I’m sure it’s just because I read Mistborn so recently (and, honestly, because both their names start with K), but he remained me of Kelseir to a certain extent. The same arc of ‘embittered cynic learns that not every privileged noble of the horrifying oppressive system he suffers under is evil, merely the vast majority’, anyway. That and the fact that he also seems to have a cult now, though I guess he got his by accident.

Shallan’s arc really grew on me once we got back to it in part three – and I’d always liked it to begin with. Partially because intrigue and conspiracies are generally more interesting than action scenes and this had one without the other, and partially because Jasnah is the other candidate for best supporting character (sorry, I’m obligated to love the insufferably too-smart-for-her-own-good atheist historian, its in my contract). Though I am looking forward to Shallan’s next conversation with her brothers “Bad news, I do not have a soulcaster. Good news, I’m now an apprentice wizard. No, I will not be coming home.”

I am more than a bit confused about the exact timeline of all this mythic prehistory, though I’m sure that’s at least partially intentional. Still, very curious if God’s death (or, well, I suppose Ahura Mazda’s, given the whole dualism thing) is the cause, result, or unrelated to all but one of his immortal hero-saints deciding to say ‘fuck this’ when it was time to go back to being tortured/fight in hell for another few (decades? Centuries? Millennia?).

Also unclear on what sort of timeframe all this is supposed to have happened in. Hundreds of years ago? Thousands? Tens of thousands? It seems like it went ‘mythical dawn kingdoms’ ---> ‘global theocracy’ ---> ‘current setup’, which doesn’t seem like much change. But, like, it’s a thousand page high fantasy book, political situations persisting for thousands of years wouldn’t exactly be surprising.

But yeah, anyway, good book. Will need to grab the sequel sometime soon. Though I should really take a break with some nonfiction first.

#books #the way of kings #stormlight archive #cosmere #brandon sanderson #in this essay I will #this is theoretically a writing blog

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varian-and-the-seven-skies · 4 years ago

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Cor Meum | Chapter One: City of the Sun

Synopsis: In a world of floating cities and steamships, Captain Rapunzel runs the fastest ship in all the skies. But this rowdy crew is not without its secrets—or its treasures— and Hugo, newly-hired, is ready to discover them all. Now if only Varian, the whip-smart lead engineer, would get out of his way.

A TTS & 7k AU of epic proportions, featuring cool fight scenes, steampunk machinery, and an inevitable romance. Written by @littlemisslol-fic and @izaswritings.

AO3 Link is here!

Fic Playlist can be found here!

Chapter One: City of the Sun

“Need a hand there, goggles?”

The voice, barely audible over the sound of welding and banging metal of the mechanic’s shop, draws Varian’s attention away from the chaos of the engine above him. With a beleaguered sigh he stares mournfully up at the greasy gears and other assorted guts of the machine. His eyes flick down to see a pair of black, perfectly polished leather boots waiting patiently near the edge of the suspended machine, and it takes more than a little willpower not to groan.

Varian grits his teeth. He does not have time for this. He only has until tomorrow to fix this stupid thing before the ship’s due to take off; he’s already been working on it for three days, and if he can’t get it running the Captain is going to flip.

The leather boots that Varian can see past the edge of the engine shift slightly, and Varian can feel more than see the light kick of someone else’s shoe against his own. The large silver buckles on the boots flash just enough to be annoying, and Varian makes a face. The voice drifts back down to where Varian has hidden himself under the engine, and it takes everything in him not to groan.

“Hey, can you hear me under there?” it says impatiently.

Varian plants his back a little more firmly on the rolling mechanic’s bed he’s lying on and pulls on the outer casing of the engine, rolling himself out from under the machine with a small grunt.

He slams his eyes shut against the sudden change in light, blinding even behind the protective lens of his goggles. When he opens them again he can see a tall figure leaning over him, blocking out most of the sunlight coming in from the skylights embedded in the iron ceiling of the shop. Varian cricks his neck, looking around in a last desperate attempt to ignore the person hovering over him.

The mechanic’s shop is certainly distracting enough, stuffed full of people just as grease-covered and irritated as Varian, all of them suffering together in the heat caused by welding and hard work. Made of thick stone and wrought iron, the large space offers room to spread out that you just didn’t get in airships, making it the best place for Varian to do his work with big projects like engine twelve’s sad, hollowed out corpse. Large windows dot the ceiling like stars, offering light and just the smallest hint of the blue skies above. The shop is, if anything, supposed to be a safe haven for the mechanically minded. People aren’t supposed to try and talk to each other, which is something Varian cherishes. Nothing worse than trying to piece together penny-sized cogs or a delicate engine part only to be interrupted by a nosey crewmate.

Which is why blondie being here is certainly quite the insubordination. Society has rules, damn it.

Varian wipes his gloves clean off his apron before pushing his goggles up onto the top of his head, linking his fingers and stretching his arms out towards the ceiling. He lets his arms flop back down with a sigh, and finally locks eyes with the person above him.

Varian arches a brow, and the blond’s smile splits just a little wider.

“I’m sorry?” Varian asks, not exactly friendly. By the Maker, he really doesn’t have time for this.

“I asked if you needed a hand,” the blond replies, a glint in his green eyes. He’s tall, is Varian’s first impression, tall enough that he’s likely got at least a head of height on Varian if they were to stand shoulder to shoulder. Varian would say he’s muscular, but there’s the sneaking suspicion that it’s really more the black leather coat that makes the teen in front of him look that way. Varian has employed similar tactics in the past; he knows the tricks. Get a big coat with a large, pointed collar and massive cuffs and boom, suddenly you’re twice as intimidating as you were before. It's a good coat, though, if a bit heavy for Corona weather. Shining silver buttons line the length of the jacket, and it has deep pockets that Varian can only assume are full of fun little tricks from experience. The silver continues on the blond’s vest as well, a trim piece of green fabric with polished silver buttons and a faint embroidery.

Blond hair, chopped in a rough undercut, frames the other teen’s thin face in an annoyingly aesthetic kind of way, held back from his face by the wire frames of the other teen’s circular glasses. Green eyes meet Varian’s own, and the blond smirks at Varian’s blatant staring.

In all honesty, he almost looks out of place, dressed up just a little too much to be skulking around with the grease-monkeys Varian calls his contemporaries. If anything, the quick flash of a silver rapier on the blond’s belt cinches it. Whoever this teenager is, he’s either from money, or pretending to be from money, both of which are irritating in their own way.

Varian bites the inside of his cheek, trying to find a way to reply politely.

“No, thank you,” is what he spits out instead, grabbing at the engine and starting to pull himself back under it. The blond’s heavy boot slams down on top, the mechanic’s bed jerking to a halt, and Varian’s teeth click uncomfortably together at the force of it. The engine swings a little dangerously from where it’s suspended between two large chains, holding it high so the underside of it is easily accessible. Varian stops mid-yank and glares.

The boy just smiles, annoyingly unphased.

“Aw, c’mon, goggles,” the blond says with that same irritating smile, green eyes bright behind his round glasses. “Isn’t that a little heavy for a tiny thing like you? Don’t you want the extra help?”

Varian huffs in offense, already done with this conversation. The shop’s agonizingly hot, even with the windows thrown open. It’s loud, dirty, generally rather unpleasant with the stink of grease and sweat, and though it’s the best place to work in the dockyard it’s still chaotic at best. Varian only has another eighteen hours to figure out what the problem with this engine is before they’re due to take off from Corona again, and Varian knows it’s his ass on the line if the work doesn’t get done. He doesn’t have time for some uppity asshole to think he knows more than Varian and try to upstage everything.

“I have a name, you know,” Varian says, coldly, looking the guy dead in the eye.

“Can I know it?” The blond winks at him. He seems to think he’s making headway.

“Nope,” Varian replies with a peppy smile. There’s a moment of shock, and that’s all he needs to yank his mechanic’s bed out from under the blond’s black boot, disappearing back under the engine.

Finally. Back where he belongs, the annoyance avoided. Varian scratches at his face idly, bringing his googles back down over his eyes, setting his mind back onto his work. He peers up into the open panel at the bottom of the engine, noting the interweaving cogs that should in theory be working by now. After the bloody pirate attack a week ago, engine twelve, or specifically this part of it, had taken a hell of a beating. The Captain had pushed her too far again, causing something inside to rupture and spew parts across the engine room floor like a geyser, and in turn Varian has spent the last three days desperately trying to piece it back together. Something is still wrong with it, though, and it’s driving Varian insane trying to figure it out.

“Come on, darling,” Varian mutters to himself, taking a wrench to one of the bolts. “Talk to me.”

He gets no answer. Instead a small plume of dust and grease spurts out of the machine onto Varian’s face, only just splattering onto his goggles instead of his skin. Lovely. He grits his teeth, reaching in to really give it a piece of his mind—

“It’s the bolt on the timing belt,” the blond pipes up from beyond the engine. “If you leave it as-is, it’s going to fall apart the minute you try to take off.”

…Oh. Varian looks up to the timing belt, tucked away neatly near the upper left side of the engine, and lo and behold, one of the bolts holding it in place is missing. Damnit. Varian peeks up through the engine, up to where the top panel’s been removed as well, and just catches a glint of green eyes peering down at him through the guts of the machine. There’s a minute of debate in him, how much does he value his pride? Enough to admit he was wrong to this irritating little—?

“Look, pipsqueak,” the blond says, his voice filtering through the cogs and gears. “I know machines. Just trust that I know what I’m talking about?”

Varian clenches his hand around the wrench, wondering how long he can go without committing murder. Maybe if he made it look like an accident…?

He rolls back out from under the engine again. The wheels make a protesting noise against the cobblestone floor. This time when he comes to a stop, he sits up properly, shoving his goggles back up to rest haphazardly on his forehead.

“Can I help you?” Varian finally spits. His ire only seems to encourage the blond, who grins.

“I mean, it seems like I’m helping you,” Green-eyes says, idly pushing his glasses further up the bridge of his nose. How he’s dealing with the heat of the day in that giant coat Varian would never guess, but that’s besides the point. Varian rocks his weight a bit, thinking, the mechanic’s bed under him shifting with the movement. Decided, he finally pushes himself up to his feet, noting with irritation that the blond is, in fact, at least a foot taller. Scowl setting deep on his face, Varian turns away and kicks at the mechanic’s bed roughly, sending it rolling back under the engine for safekeeping.

There’s a chattering noise of gears and steam, and Varian feels a weight land on his shoulder. He only just adapts to the heavy weight of copper, steel, and brass, before he feels his first creation clambering for his attention. Varian absently reaches up to pat at the metal body of his pet, scratching at a place between the exposed gears of Ruddiger’s ears that he knows the little automaton likes best. Ruddiger coos out a puff of steam, settling his weight onto Varian’s shoulders fully, the automaton having jumped from on top of the engine. Aperture eyes snap open and close with content, breaking the glowing green light of Ruddiger’s eyes for just a second as the raccoon-shaped automaton purrs.

The blond lets out a little huff of a laugh when he sees Varian and Ruddiger together, green eyes flicking between them. He gestures to his eyes, biting his lip. “Look at that,” he says, grinning. “You’re twins!”

Sure enough, when Varian peers into the polished brass sides of the engine, he can see that his eyes are ringed with grime and soot, giving him a distinctly raccoon look. Varian scowls at his reflection, turning back around with an angry gesture of the wrench in his hand.

“If you weren’t right about the engine—” Varian begins to threaten, but the blond cuts him off.

“But I was,” he says with a smarmy smile. “Right, I mean.”

Varian can feel his eye twitch.

“You’re rightly annoying,” he grumps, crossing his arms. Ruddiger makes an offended puff of steam at the movement, digging mechanical hands into the shoulder of Varian’s shirt a little tighter. Varian grits his teeth a little as tiny claws dig into his skin through the thin fabric.

The other boy holds his hands up in an innocent gesture, head cocking to the side. “I know what I’m doing, all right? Let me help fix the engine.” Green eyes glow with mirth as the boy looks down at the engine again. “Because, clearly, you seem to need it.”

Varian scowls, his hands clenching into fists, fingers digging into the leather of his gloves. The wrench in his hand is temptingly heavy, but Varian simply grits his teeth and ignores the plots for murder, taking a deep breath. Instead he reaches up and over the engine, using the wrench to try and tighten the bolt on the timing belt one last time. It creaks a little dangerously, but Varian knows it’ll hold. He designed it himself, after all.

Ruddiger keeps an eye on the blond behind Varian, making curious noises, a soft clicking sound that mixes well with the quiet ticking of his clockwork heart. Varian has to use two hands on the wrench to get the bolt tight, giving it a few violent tugs. The blond is watching him—Varian can feel eyes on the back of his neck—but Varian steadfastly ignores him, either out of focus or spite… or maybe both.

Work done, he finally turns back around to the blond, stepping forward with a threatening gesture of the wrench.

“Look,” Varian says, pointing the wrench an inch away from green eyes. “I don’t particularly care for your tone, so—”

“Varian!” a third voice calls, and Varian stills mid-rant. Both Varian and the irritating boy next to him turn, locking eyes with a young woman—a familiar woman. Her grin is a mile wide, bright as the sun and twice as warm. Her purple dress swirls around her ankles, cinched tight at the waist by a black corset, with billowing sleeves of white fabric. Her green eyes crinkle when she sees the two of them turn to her, scrunching up the spattering of freckles on her face and wrinkling her button nose. She’d look a proper lady, she certainly holds herself with the decorum expected of one, if not for the pixie cut she’d chopped her hair into. It’s stylish, with shorter sides and a longer top, nearly defying gravity in the way it fluffs up from her head into a windblown wave.

Varian notes, with quite a bit of amusement, that she’s holding onto a pair of flats in one hand. Barefoot again, then. Classic.

“Rapunzel,” Varian sighs, dropping the arm holding the wrench back down to his side. He can feel the embarrassment of being caught picking fights seizing him. He’s eighteen now, he really should know better, and Rapunzel is nothing if not determined to keep him on the straight and narrow.

“Who’s this?” Rapunzel says with interest, her eyes flicking between Varian and the other teenager. The taller boy seems to stiffen under her gaze, which is unsurprising. Rapunzel is notorious in these parts, and in the dockyard especially. Varian rubs at the back of his neck in the presence of his Captain, and can feel his cheeks burn red.

“He was just leaving—” Varian starts to say, turning away from her to glare at the blond, but Rapunzel cuts him off.

“Oh, did you make a friend?” she asks, coming closer and leaning on Varian’s shoulder. It’s infuriating the way she’s taller than he is, even after his growth spurt.

“Sure,” Varian says through grit teeth. “A friend. We’ll call him that.”

Rapunzel brightens at that, and Varian can already sense the trouble on the horizon. “And you are?”

The boy shrugs. “New.”

There’s a pause, but Rapunzel pushes forward. “Oh! How are you liking Corona, then?” she asks the blond, her grin a mile wide at the thought of Varian having friends. Varian’s not sure if he’s offended or not, really.

“Loving it,” the blond says. “The City of the Sun could never disappoint.”

Varian wants to roll his eyes, but Rapunzel leans further onto him, putting more of her weight onto his shoulder in a silent bid for him to behave himself. He goes along with it—she’s typically right in these sorts of situations.

“Glad to hear it,” Rapunzel grins. “What brings you to our fair city, anyways?”

“I’m here looking for work, actually,” the blond says quickly. “Just got back from a contracted expedition to Vardaros, so now I’m on the hunt for another engineering job.”

Rapunzel’s face brightens, and Varian grows concerned. He knows that she’s been contemplating hiring extra hands for their next expedition, seeing how important it is, but there’s no way she would actually—

“Well, you’re in luck!” Her face splits into a wide smile. “We’re actually looking for a junior engineer, and any friend of Varian’s is a friend of ours. We’d be glad to have you aboard, if you’re willing.”

Varian’s face must do something funny, since Rapunzel’s full weight is near crushing him now. He tries to catch her eye, but she’s ignoring him with a grin. Rapunzel knows exactly what she’s doing and Varian can’t help but feel the slight pulse of irritation sink into his gut. She’s planning something, he thinks, glaring at her as she steadfastly ignores his gaze. Only the Maker knows what goes on in that woman’s head, honestly.

“Well, can’t say no to that,” Varian’s new most-hated-person says.

By the Maker, what did Varian do to deserve this? Has he really been such a terrible person to deserve this kind of treatment from the universe? Honestly, you’d think he was a horrible murderer in a past life for the kind of penance he’s paying in this one.

“Perfect!” Rapunzel crows with a clap of her hands. “Varian can show you how to get back to the Aphelion—right, Varian?”

“Yes, Captain.” Varian grunts, idly wondering if he could brain himself with the wrench in his hand in such a way that would guarantee he wouldn’t survive. Rapunzel doesn’t seem to mind, finally letting up on Varian and gently pushing away from him with one last squeeze of his shoulder.

“Alright, you two,” she says, winking to Varian as she leaves. “Just wanted to stop by and see how you were doing— I’ll see you both back at the ship! Play nice!”

Varian can’t help but feel like he’s been played.

If Varian had his way, he’d turn around and fire the blond here and now. Varian’s the head of the engineering section of the Aphelion— that’s got to count for something, right? In theory it should, but Varian knows that Rapunzel, as Captain, had final say in everything. If she wants to be a busy-body and force Varian to try and make friends, then by the Maker, it’s happening whether Varian likes it or not.

In this case? It is decidedly in the not category.

He turns to the blond, who looks back with a smug smile. Varian can feel his face scrunch up in distaste at it, and knows that the twitch in his eye is probably back with a vengeance. Ruddiger chirps with contentment on his shoulder, idly pawing at his hair in an attempt to calm his human down. It doesn’t work. Varian sighs, and finally sets the wrench down on a nearby table, jabbing a finger at the other teenager.

“I don’t like you,” is all he says. “But if Rapunzel says you’re in, then you’re in, I guess.”

That stupid fucking grin gets wider, and Varian wants to punch it.

“Who are you, then?” Varian asks, trying for more neutral territory. If they’re going to be stuck together for the next six months once the Aphelion takes flight, then he wants to at least try to work towards something non-hostile.

“Your new crewmate, obviously,” the blond shoots back, and Varian loses all sense of decorum at that point. There’s a beat of silence as Varian tries to reel his temper in, and another as he tries to relax his jaw enough to say something that won’t get him arrested.

“In that case, you should know that you’re speaking to your boss… mister junior engineer.”

The blond splutters, and Varian can’t help but give a little smirk of his own. Nothing better than reminding people of his position, the one he’d clawed for for years before Rapunzel finally gave in.

“Wait, what?” Varian’s new underling asks, going a shade paler.

“My name is Varian,” he says, the smirk growing larger and larger. He brings a hand up to the center of his chest, fingers splayed slightly. “Lead Engineer of the Aphelion, and your new boss. So, tell me, glasses.” Oh, this was so much fun. “Who are you?”

Green-eyes seems to know when he’s dug himself a hole he can’t climb out of, and for the first time there’s something other than an irritating smirk on his face. If anything, Varian would say he looks annoyed. The thought of finally managing to wipe that smirk off the blond’s face is delicious, and it does wonders for Varian’s mood. Varian sticks a hand out, much like Rapunzel had, and while the blond glares at it, he still takes Varian’s smaller hand in his own.

“Hugo,” the blond grits out, holding Varian’s hand maybe just a little too tight. It’s still worth it to see this boy squirmthough.

Varian waits, but the older boy—Hugo—says nothing else, and after a moment Varian draws his hand away. “Good talk.” That’s that, he supposes.

A pause, and then Varian shrugs and moves away, looking back to the engine. Screws in place, broken pipe replaced, timing belt bolted... it’s about as fixed as it can get. Varian reaches up and slams the top back down with a loud clang. Hugo jumps. Varian grins, and kneels down to lock the top back into place.

Ruddiger chitters in his ear, scolding; Varian shakes him off and straightens back to his feet, peeling off his gloves and shoving one hand back through his hair. Ugh, city sweat and oil. He can taste it. “Well,” Varian says, resigned. “Might as well make yourself useful, I guess. Help me push this back to the dockyard.” Hugo opens his mouth but Varian cuts him off. “And if I hear one more comment about my physical prowess—!” He pats the wrench twice with a sweet smile, the threat more than obvious.

Hugo closes his mouth. He’s grinning. By the Maker, even when he’s quiet, Varian can practically hear what Hugo wants to say anyway. This is already a disaster; what the hell is Rapunzel thinking?

He has a sudden and vivid flashback to her winking at him, and shudders without knowing why.

Ruddiger coos at him with a puff of steam. Varian tugs at Ruddiger’s ear in return, annoyed with the chiding—he knows how to play nice, thanks, why does no one have any faith in him?—and then walks to the shopkeeper, thus far ignored in the back of the workroom. “How much for the parts?”

He pays for the replacements and manages to haggle for a cart, and in a few minutes’ time he and Hugo have winched the engine down and rigged it up for transport. Varian braces himself against the cart handle and sighs. “Westside dock,” he tells Hugo, squinting sadly at the streets through the large double doors of the shop. It’s market day. The crowds are crazy. This is going to suck. “Pier 48.”

“You sure you know the way, goggles?”

“It’s ‘boss,’ actually,” Varian replies sweetly, and grins with all his teeth at the way Hugo winces. Hah. Varian could get used to this.

They exit the repair shop to a faceful of steam, and Varian coughs hard, waving the smoke from his face as he and Hugo shove their way into the crowd, the cart rattling loudly on the uneven cobble. Corona at midday is as bustling as ever, the city life in full swing. Whole families wander the streets as merchant carts and stores push out their wares; steam-powered bikes rocket past, their riders laughing high and bright. In the distance, Varian can hear the ever-present screech of the train whistles, the trails of steam drifting up from the stations. Above them, the sunlight warps and twists, broken apart by the furious rattle of passing trains and the railroad looping high above their heads in arches and spindly bridges.

Varian squints against the light and shades his face, elbowing Hugo hard to get his attention. The other boy looks almost lost in thought, staring up—his eyes tracking the trains as they pass, looking almost blinded by the sheer gleam of the city in motion. “We’re heading right,” Varian explains, raising his voice above the din, and waves his pocket watch at Hugo’s face, tapping the compass in the upper corner. “Come on.”

Hugo pulls his gaze away and follows, and together they push the cart through the streets, slowly but surely carving a path for the dockyard. When they finally break through the main crowd, Varian pushes them toward the side-streets, shadowy and empty and safe from wandering feet. If they hurry, he thinks, they might make it to the dockyard before the heat really sets in. He gives Ruddiger one last absent pat and starts to pick up the pace.

Hugo is slowing, though, trailing behind, and then for a brief moment he stops completely, hand slipping away from the cart. Varian yanks the cart to a stop, glancing back, ready to give the other a piece of his mind—but then he sees Hugo’s face. Varian follows his gaze, and closes his mouth. He understands now: in the break between the buildings he can see the whole upper half of Corona, the spires of the Sun’s temple and the curving arches of the bridges rising high over the city, shining bright and glossy in the sunlight. It’s designed to look like the sun crest, if seen from directly above—a tourist favorite.

“First time in the city?” Varian wonders, and when Hugo eyes him, just shrugs, Ruddiger chattering loudly on his shoulder. “You’re staring.”

“It’s bright,” Hugo says, dryly.

“And that would be why it’s called the city of the Sun.” Varian blows out a hard breath, trying to get sweat-soaked bangs out of his face. He plants his hands on the cart rail and starts pushing again. A moment’s pause, and then Hugo joins him. “But no, seriously, who are you? You’re already hired or whatever—” Damn Rapunzel for that, now Varian has to deal with this jerk for six months, “—but why are you even here?”

“Luck,” Hugo says, which is such an obvious lie Varian outright rolls his eyes at him. “Money. Look, goggles, I came here for a fresh start, so—” He gestures. “Let’s just not do the whole interrogation thing and say we did, okay?”

Varian presses his lips together, but lets it drop. As irritating as Hugo is—well. Varian understands fresh starts. And the money issue. If it was someone prying into his reasons, then…

“Fine, fine.” Varian says, and turns his head away, only just catching the way Hugo startles from the corner of his eye. He almost looks surprised, Varian thinks, but when he glances back again Hugo just looks as smug as ever, not even out of breath from pushing the cart. His hair is even still slicked perfectly back.

Maybe his imagination? Well, whatever; Varian hates it either way.

It’s not far to the docks, and Varian knows the path like the back of his hand; by the time the midday heat really starts sinking in (and Hugo, in that stupid leather coat, is noticeably starting to sweat—hah, serves him right), they’ve reached the edge of the city. It’s quieter here, the rumble of the crowd replaced with distant whistles and rhythmic banging, the symphony of a dockyard hard at work.

Varian heaves the cart to a rolling stop by the stairs, waving at Hugo to step back, and cups a hand around his mouth. “Xavier!” he shouts down at the shipyard, pitching his voice high. Ruddiger props up on his head and yawns, puffing steam like a smoke signal. “Send Cass up here, would you? I’ve got that engine part fixed!”

“Oh, wonderful!” Xavier waves back. “I’ll send her up— we’ll get it reinstalled right away! Grab Yong for me?”

“Where is he?”

“On the ship!”

“Got it!” Ruddiger crawls from his shoulder down into his arms; Varian cradles the racoon close—ouch, hot metal—and finally looks back to Hugo, humming. “Well, come on then.”

“Yong?” Hugo wonders aloud, as Varian makes his way for the ship. It’s in Pier 48 now, the main dock for repair work, which makes this a longer walk than usual. Damn pirates, punching holes in their ship— who did this Donella think she was? For someone with such a fearsome reputation, they’d gotten away pretty light…

“Xavier’s assistant,” Varian explains, clutching Ruddiger to his chest and hopping down the stairs two at a time. He hears a snicker, and whips around to glare. Hugo looks away, one hand covering his mouth. Varian narrows his eyes. “Xavier was that man down there, he runs the engines, and— would you stop laughing?”

“Sorry,” Hugo says, with a grin that says he isn’t sorry at all. “You were saying?”

“Okay, I’m not doing this.” Varian spins on his heel, ignoring him. “Come on, it’s just around the corner. She’s a little... battered right now, some hull damage, but we’re set to leave tomorrow— and I mean tomorrow— time is money with this next shipment, understand?”

Hugo smiles, leaning closer to Varian. “What’s so special about it?” he asks, one eyebrow raised. “Is it expensive?”

Expensive, one of a kind, irreplaceable—there’s a lot of words Varian could use for it. If the Aphelion’s last cargo had been valuable, this next shipment is near-priceless. “That’s on a need-to-know basis—” Varian says tartly, “—and until we’re in the air, you don’t need to know. Now, will you be ready?”

Hugo shrugs. “I’m ready to go now.”

Varian blinks at that, looking Hugo up and down. Even Ruddiger lifts his head from his nap to sniff a disbelieving puff of steam. No luggage, just the clothes on his back and the sword on his hip. “Um… you sure?”

Hugo’s smirk widens. “Aw. Worried for me, goggles?”

Ha-ha, nevermind. Varian pivots back around. “Nope.” He is not allowed to punch his new assistant. He is not allowed to punch his assistant. Rapunzel would be disappointed. There would be lectures. She would make charts. Not worth it. “Now, where is that ship—”

He ducks around the corner, stepping out of the way of horse and cart, and then, like the sun splitting the clouds: there she is.

Varian trails to a stop, annoyance already forgotten. He turns, for once wanting to see Hugo’s full reaction. If Hugo had blinked twice at the city, then… “Here we are,” Varian says, grinning now, pride bubbling warm in his chest. “The Aphelion!”

Hugo looks, mouth opening, and Varian can just see the rude comment he’s about to make—and then Varian really doesgrin, wide and bright and smug smug smug, because he can also see the moment Hugo loses all his words entirely.

Varian has always loved Corona, despite everything—the spiny skyline, the arching bridges, the whistling steam and winding roads curling up to the temple like a conch shell. Varian has lived in this air and breathed this city for all his life, and he loves it with all he is— but of all the places in the city, the dockyards, and the ships they harbor, are where his heart truly lies.

If the city is bright, then the dockyards are blinding. They sit on the very edge of the city limits, the cliff-face drop of the flying city. The copper paneling that makes up the dockyard decks has turned near solid-gold in the sunlight, and beyond that edge the whole world falls at their feet. Miles upon miles of dotted green farmland, blocks of gleaming metal towns, curving roads like man-made rivers. The horizon burns gold and blue, the distant silhouette of other flying cities dotting the landscape, poking out from distant clouds. None of the cities fly as high as Corona, of course—the cities of the Sun and Moon are meant to float above all the rest—but it still makes for quite the view. With other airships hanging in the sky, colorful backdrops against the full white clouds, the dockyards are most certainly a sight to behold.

But the jewel, Varian thinks with a smile, is his ship—Rapunzel’s ship—their home.

The Aphelion.

She’s a work of art, Varian knows, and she looks it, too. Aphelion is a whole three hundred feet of dark wood and solid brass, long and sleek and sharp as any blade. Her half-moon windows are stained glass and shining; decorative copper and silver wires wind down her front and all across her sides like trailing vines, or maybe wings, or maybe the unfurling edges of the sun. She’s got four sails and an envelope made of the best weave, the cloth of the balloon so thick it’s near impossible to cut, set to hold them afloat for nearly two decades even if the engines and the fires both die. A heavy copper turbine sits at her back; the sails, flapping loose in the breeze, are decorated in off-hand embroidery. She’s golden and shining in the sunlight—and it’s right, that Hugo goes dead silent at the sight of her, and Varian can’t help but grin. Because anyone who stops and stares at the Aphelion, anyone who goes breathless at their first glance… well, as annoying as Hugo is, he can’t be too bad, then. Not if he sees the Aphelion for the treasure she is.

She hadn’t always been this way, of course; she’d been a broken thing once, before Rapunzel found the shattered shell of a ship and coaxed life back into her. It’s Rapunzel’s way, after all, to find broken and trapped and hiding things, and bring them out to the light—but Rapunzel had asked Lance to do the tarp weave, and Varian had built the metalwork, and in the end, it was all of them, together, that brought the Aphelion to the skies, blinding and beautiful and larger than life.

Varian steps away and sets Ruddiger down on the cobble, still grinning wide and pleased at Hugo’s shock, and waves up to the small figures settled around on the Aphelion’s balcony. Rapunzel—standing at the helm with Eugene, Nuru, and Yong—looks over, and she leans over the railing to wave back. Her eyes draw to Hugo next, and even from this distance, Varian can see her smile.

Varian turns back to Hugo, radiating smugness. “Well?”

Hugo blinks fast and shakes his head. “Well,” he echoes. He shakes his head again, and then he gives a little laugh. “Well.”

“What do you think?” Varian presses, intent. “Isn’t she gorgeous?” And maybe Hugo catches something in that, maybe he can tell Varian really and truly wants an answer, because he looks at Varian, eye to eye, and then— he smiles.

Months later, this memory will stand out to Varian. Years later, Varian will look back on this day in the sun and finally recognize the moment for what it was. A beginning. And an end.

Their only warning.

It’s bright, the smile Hugo gives him. It’s blinding. But for some reason, something about it makes Varian falter. A chill runs down his spine. His mouth goes dry. Because there is something in that smile—in the curve of it, the sharpness of teeth—something about the way it creases at Hugo’s eyes. It unnerves him. It unsettles him. There is something about it that doesn’t sit quite right, and if Varian had known better, then, perhaps he could have read the smile for what it was.

But instead Varian looks away, feeling cold and not sure why, telling himself it is just the wind—and beside him, Hugo, his eyes fixed back on the ship—

Hugo smiles.

“Yes,” he says. “She’s perfect.”

#tangled the series #varian and the seven kingdoms #varigo #vat7k #hugo tangled #tangled varian #varian #hugo #rapunzel's tangled adventure #rapunzel #tts #rta #chapters #fic: cor meum

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artificialqueens · 3 years ago

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Pretty in Pearls, Chapter 5 (Jankie) - Plastiquedoll

read on ao3 💄| previous chapters

A/N: hi! here's a short update but I still hope you enjoy it! thank you for reading it! <3

-5-

“Good evening, welcome to Lucky’s… I’m Jan, how can I help you?” She smiled brightly.

The flash of Crystal’s phone almost blinded her.

“Aw, look at you. First day of work!” The ginger cooed.

“They grow up so fast.” Jaida pretended she was crying.

Crystal was definitely crying.

“You guys…” Jan whispered. “I work here now… try to keep it cool… please?”

“How dare you? We always keep it cool.” Nicky crossed her arms on her chest.

“Aren’t we banned from that bar in the city?” Heidi asked.

“Technically, that wasn’t our fault…” The blonde mumbled.

Jan counted the people in the group; Widow and Gigi were there too, Widow was telling Gigi something but the girl was a bit too concentrated on certain ginger –she had said yes to their invitation in the blink of an eye when they told her Crystal was going to be there- Rosé and Lagoona would arrive after their rehearsal but still…

“Where’s Jackie?” Jan tiptoed, looking around.

“She had to close the copy room and told us she would meet us here.” Jaida explained.

“Oh… okay.” Jan displayed a new smile. “I’ll take you guys to your section.”

She walked the group to the booths and assigned them two tables next to each other –they were going to need a third table by the time the other girls arrived but for the moment, it would do- she distributed the menus and left them to check her other clients just like Denali had taught her earlier that day.

She had met some of her co-workers -there were other two waitresses working that night, Kandy and Olivia, Olivia was a sweetheart meanwhile Kandy was hilarious- and the day manager, Britta; for what it seemed, the night manager not being there was a recurring thing so Denali walked her carefully through every detail. She explained how the register worked, how to add tables and mark them as occupied or free, she also told Jan about the standards and rules with the diners, what to do, what not to do… and when she thought Jan was ready, she sent her to her first table ever.

“And don’t worry, if something goes wrong you can always say that you’re new and get away with it. I still do it sometimes.” Denali shrugged. “But I’m convinced you’ll do well.”

Jan did perfectly; she served two high school students who stopped by right after school. They ordered milkshakes and Jan was more than excited to prepare their drinks and deliver them while wearing a dazzling smile. They left a good tip for being teenagers so she took that as a good sign.

And obviously, her friends were going to drop by on her first day. She just hoped that Denali wouldn’t scold her in extension so she had asked them to behave… as much as they could.

Rosé and Lagoona walked in next.

“Look at you, baby!” Rosé celebrated her roommate. “Stunning!”

“Let me have a glance.” Lagoona gestured for her to twirl.

“Y’all…” Jan blushed but did as requested showing off her red and white striped uniform.

“I think this is the first time I’ve seen you in a dress or a skirt.” The pink-haired girl noted. “I’m not counting the skorts you wore when we went bowling.”

“You didn’t want me to wear sweatpants to it.”

“Bitch…”

Jan had no proofs or doubts Rosé would have burned the skorts if she had the chance. She knew it was a questionable fashion choice but hey, they surely were comfy.

She also hoped she never told Nicky or Gigi about them.

“Everyone is here already… well, except for Jackie, she’s kind of running late.” Jan guided them toward the booths.

The other girls immediately cheered when the other two girls joined as if they hadn’t had lunch all together the day before.

“I’ll check on you in a minute.” She said before running to the table that was calling for her.

Rosé’s words echoed on the back of her head. She didn’t have anything against skirts or dresses only she had never consider buying one for herself. Other girls looked ethereal with them but Jan still had war flashbacks from that time she attempted to buy a dress for her graduation with her mom… it hadn’t gone well.

Plus, sports clothes always fit her and were practical.

Denali had offered both options –the candy cane striped dress and an alternative set of pants and a white shirt with an apron- but she had opted for the dress for some reason. She wanted to fit into that environment and copying the black-haired girl seemed the first step to it. Trying it on had been a bit weird; she almost didn’t recognize herself in the mirror but the more she looked at herself the more she liked it.

At that moment, Jackie arrived.

She was apologizing even before completely trespassing the door when she lifted her gaze and met Jan’s eyes.

“…and I’m sorry for…” She began losing her ability to speak as she got in a trance.

Seeing Jan always gave Jackie butterflies on her stomach –the good type of butterflies- and she wasn’t going to admit it to her friends not even in a million years because she wasn’t the kind of girl who believed in something as cheesy as butterflies but most importantly, she had promised herself she wasn’t going to fall for that again.

But there she was, with that smile that made all the other smiles in the world irrelevant.

Seeing Jan in a dress made her brain malfunction –not because of the dress itself but because the girl was glowing while wearing it.

Jackie wetted her lips, she had forgotten what she was going to say.

“So… what do you think?” She stretched the dress with her hands. “You can be fully honest.”

No, she couldn’t.

“You look… very happy.” The brunette made a great effort to reply. “You look nice.” This time the words came out a bit more articulated.

Jan smiled, satisfied with that answer. “C’mon, the girls are over here…” She started walking and Jackie followed her. “Don’t you love this place? It looks like it’s been ripped out of the fifties or something.”

For the first time, Jackie actually paid attention to the diner.

“Oh, that’s right… the aesthetic…”

“Hey girls, Jackie’s here!” She announced.

“Miss Cox!” Heidi yelled.

Suddenly the table turned in her direction; they created a fuss, full sentences or loose words were hardly able to comprehend but Jackie was used to it, she spoke the loud language better than anyone. She looked at Jan before sitting with the rest of the group and cracked a secret smile just for her then she rolled her eyes and got entangled in one epic story about the time a cat crashed in the dorms.

Jan cleared her throat and asked very nicely if she could bring them something to drink. She listed soft drinks, mostly cherry coke, regular coke, diet coke, Sprite, and an ice cream soda for Crystal. She walked behind the counter and pressed some buttons to make sure she got it all correct.

It took her a moment to understand the computer’s system for the tables as in the abstract but now that she had some practice with it, she was getting faster at it. She charged table eight and then added a new order of fries for table twelve and finally opened the bill for her friends.

Denali approached her at some point while she was juggling with a couple of trays.

“Hey, how’s it going?” The black-haired girl asked. “Are you okay handling that big group by yourself?” She typed some numbers and printed the receipt without blinking.

“Ah, yeah… Don’t worry, they are all my friends.” It was the first time she had said it aloud and it filled her with pride.

Denali looked at the table; it was a colorful ensemble of people that were having a blast. They were loud and they burst into laughter every couple of minutes. Jan spotted Widow covering her face with second-hand embarrassment while she was laughing underneath, Heidi cackling next to her, Nicky and Jaida holding hands but still participating in the debate, Rosé holding her stomach, Lagoona trying to add something but cracking up as soon as she started a sentence, Gigi with a blank stare trying to discover what she had said that was so funny, Crystal in an attempt to explain it to her –laughing still- and Jackie shaking her head, knowing the situation was irredeemable.

Those were her friends and it filled Jan’s chest with warmness to see them there on her first day of work.

“They came here to support you?”

Jan nodded.

“Aw, that’s so cute!” Denali beamed. “Let me know if I can help you with their order though.”

“I probably will… they already found out there are mozzarella sticks in the menu and when they say «bring mozzarella sticks» they mean all the mozzarella sticks.”

Denali chuckled. “Alright.”

Jan returned to the tables with the drinks and placed them carefully remembering who ordered what. Her friends ordered a ton of food and she had to write it down and register the order on the computer.

They were talking about Rosé and Lagoona’s latest news, they had started preparing the winter musical for a class but one of the girls that were taking part had to step out of the play.

“She said she didn’t want to brag but honestly, Sydney, who the fuck cares if you’re doing Hamilton now?” The blue-haired girl sighed. “Anyway, so we need to recruit someone else this month to play that part.”

“What’s the play about?” Widow asked.

“We’re honoring the one and only Lindsay Lohan and decided to adapt the fictional musical Eliza Rocks from Confessions of a Teenage Drama Queen.” Rosé explained.

“So… Pygmalion?” Gigi frowned.

“No, no… well, yeah… It is Pygmalion but with a twist… a remake if you like.”

“So the Glee version of Pygmalion?” Heidi tried to connect the dots.

“There’s nothing new under the sun anyway.” Rosé gave up.

“We still have to, write the music and the script… but that’s the big project of the drama department.”

“We could help you with the costume design,” Nicky suggested. “That could be interesting.”

“I don’t know if-” Gigi whispered.

“I love all the theatrical stuff, can I help you?” Crystal volunteered.

“Alright, yeah… we’re helping with the costumes.” The other blonde corrected herself.

Jan shook her head and left them to discuss other details.

She was tapping the screen of the computer when Jackie sat on one of the stools of the bar.

“Look how the tables have turn… Literally.”

Jan giggled. “Right? The food will be ready in a second… I’m just finishing here.”

The brunette watched her work. “You know, that role on the play Rosé and Lagoona are putting together… you could do it.”

Jan stopped what she was doing and stared at Jackie. “What? Me?” She shook her head. “No, no… I just sing in the shower and when I’m alone… that’s it. I’m not a singer and I’m not an actress.”

“You could be one. Nobody was born knowing but you can learn. I’m sure they’d love to have you on their production.”

“Jackie, I don’t know… It’s really not my thing. Besides, they already have a lot of work to do, I don’t want to delay them even more.”

“It sounds to me that you would be doing them a favor. Just… think about it. This is the perfect time to try new things… maybe.”

“I won’t promise anything.”

“Alright.” Jackie stood up. “By the way, you should bring extra ketchup… talking from experience.”

“Okay, I’ll be there in a heartbeat.”

Jan delivered the food with Denali’s help as she had suggested and then let them enjoy it until it was her time to call it a day, hang her apron and change her dress.

“Great job today. You're a good new addition to our staff.” Denali congratulated her on the back of the restaurant.

“Thank you! I’m glad that you hired me.”

“Don’t even mention it. Now go have fun with your friends.” She winked at her and left Jan to collect her things.

She then saw with her friends and let a big sigh out of her chest.

“The first day is over…”

Her friends congratulated her as well and took turns to compliment her as if it was a Yelp review.

“Let’s make a toast for Jan’s new job!” Jaida raised her glass in the air.

“For Jan!” The table cheered in unison.

“Five out of five stars, excellent service.” Heidi qualified.

“Speaking of…” Rosé whispered just for Jan to listen. “Who is that girl that helped you earlier?”

“Denali? She’s basically my supervisor at this point and she hired me.”

“She’s cute… like… very cute.”

Jan had never seen Rosé blushing until that moment –not even when Heidi had dropped some of her –arguably- best pickup lines during one lunch.

“Oh, so you think she’s cute?”

“Do you know if she’s single?”

“I’ve worked here for a day or so…”

“More than enough time.”

“I can ask her later but she’s like my boss now, you have to promise me you’ll be chill.”

“Baby, have you seen the people around us? I’ll be the chilliest of them all.”

That wasn’t the most reassuring thing to say.

The second week, Jan was more used to her work but her teachers started setting deadlines, and with her baseball practices on top of everything else, she ended up being exhausted by the time her head touched the pillow.

After a long day, the only thing she wanted was to take a long hot shower and put on some pajamas. She walked into the hallway, yawning and carrying her little bathroom basket with shampoo, soap, and a towel.

She had followed Nicky’s advice and always wore flip-flops to the shower. The bathroom was covered in steam most of the time so the girls had to clean the mirrors to brush and dry their hair hoping to see their reflection.

Jan politely greeted two girls from the dorm and got in the shower before closing the curtain. She heard the door as the two girls left and with that, she was left alone. She turned on the shower and let the water cover her entirely to wash off all the stress of the day.

While shampooing, she unconsciously started humming some random song she had heard on the radio earlier in the diner. She closed her eyes and got under the shower when someone moved the curtain.

“I knew it!” Rosé yelled. She had her pink embroidered bathrobe on and her hair was dripping wet.

Jan screamed. “Rosé!” She covered her body with the plastic curtain. “Holy sh… You nearly gave me a heart attack… I thought we had agreed on no Pitch Perfect reenacts.” Her heart was beating faster than ever.

“I didn’t know it was the whole movie, I thought it was just the songs… you know, I saw the sign and it opened up my eyes-” She hummed.

“Rosé…” The shower’s water continued running. “Get out.”

“Okay fine.” The girl closed the curtain. “But I heard you before, you hum when you’re happy.”

“Yes? Like a normal person?” She said on the other side.

“No, no… you’re good. Why didn’t you tell me you were good?”

“Because I’m not a singer… I don’t sing like you or Lagoona.”

“But you could! This is great… I knew you were good.” She repeated.

“Wait a minute, were you waiting for me to come shower?”

“No bitch, I was exfoliating… I wasn’t stalking you.”

“Okay… sure… this definitely crosses some boundaries but okay…”

“Sorry about the curtain thing but hey, here’s a fun idea… you should drop by the auditorium tomorrow. We’re holding auditions this week and I’m just saying… you could be what we need.”

Jan finished showering and stepped out wrapped in her towel.

“Look… I’m flattered that you even consider me good but I’m not… musical theatre material, trust me.”

Rosé stared with supplicant eyes. “I know you can do it… but alright.” She raised her hands in the air in surrender.

She sighed. “Listen, Rosé, I’d love to help you but my plate is full right now… I wouldn’t be able to do it all.”

“Don’t worry… I won’t insist and I won’t bring the subject anymore just… please, consider it overnight. You don’t have to say no right away.”

“Fine… can I brush my hair in peace or is Lagoona going to jump out the sink and start a number about why I should sing?”

“We don’t have that budget but I’m sure she can improvise a song if that’s what it takes.”

“See you in the room and remember that you can’t bring this up again.”

“For someone who’s cheerful all the time you surely are picking traits from Miss Jackie Cox, aren’t you…?”

Jan blushed. “No, I’m not…”

The following day, Jan found herself roaming outside the auditorium for no particular reason.

Well, that was what she kept telling herself.

Because she wasn’t there for the auditions.

No.

Not at all.

She took a deep breath before walking in.

Luckily, most of the auditorium was empty except for the stage where most performers were still doing warm-up exercises and no one noticed the presence of the girl when she entered. Instead of standing still in the middle of the rows, she sat at the back and hid behind another seat hoping no one would spot her from there.

That was a mistake, she wasn’t supposed to be there.

She had told Rosé she would think about it but she chickened out the second she stepped in.

The rehearsal began and some of the members of the club started reading fragments of the play. It was really funny, Jan found herself holding back her laughter at some dialogues and performances. Lagoona played the piano and Rosé sang along with her and some other students joined for the chorus of the song.

It was mesmerizing to watch it from afar and maybe that was all she had to do. She could be supportive this way, without getting too involved.

“Now, what on Earth are you doing here?” The voice made her startled until she noticed it was Jackie who was now hiding next to her.

“Shhhh… keep it quiet. They don’t know I’m here… wait, why are you here?”

Jackie was so close, Jan could smell the green apple notes of her perfume.

“After my shift ended, I went to the administration office to talk with the dean and when I left I saw you walking in.” She explained.

“Ah… well, I’m leaving already so…”

“Please, don’t mind me.” The brunette assured. “So, what really brings you here?”

“Rosé is trying to get all Pitch Perfect and recruit me for this. She heard me sing in the showers.”

“Understandable. I’d call it the troyboltonification of Jan.”

“I’m not… I won’t get troyboltonificated. I’m here just to… take a look… That’s it.”

“Aha, sure.” She didn’t sound convinced. “What is holding you back from this? Obviously, you want it.”

Jan lowered her gaze. “Back in high school… I secretly wanted to participate in the drama club but the rehearsals were at the same time as my baseball practices and well… I always picked baseball over it because that’s what I’m good at it… plus it was an excuse to hang out with Nathan after the practice.”

“I see…” Jackie mumbled.

“Besides, I didn’t think I have what it takes… yes I can hit a couple of notes but that…” She pointed at the stage. “What they do there is art.”

“Listen… you’re not in high school anymore. It might be difficult to juggle the extracurricular activities with your studies and work but… if you want this, you should give it a try.” Jackie said candidly, her eyes reflected the sincerity of her words. “If it’s not for you, at least you can say you tried it.”

“Do you really think I could do it? I mean, being in front of a stage like them?”

“I’m certain about it. Some people might be born with it but I’m sure they had to practice a lot anyway and they probably failed more than once before they could get better. It is easier to say it than doing it but you’re a spitfire, if you put your mind to it you can do anything.”

She smiled even though they were in the darkest place of the auditorium.

“Thank you, Jackie. I don’t know what I did to deserve a friend like you, seriously.”

“Whenever you need it.” She smiled back.

Then, Jan stepped out and walked down toward where the stage was.

“Hi!” She approached shyly the people there, Lagoona stopped playing and Rosé was more than happy to see her. “I didn’t mean to interrupt you guys but I was told you have a vacancy for a role…”

The pink-haired girl jumped out of the stage. “Fellas, this is Jan… she’s my roommate and she has a great voice. I think we could use her talent here.”

They welcomed her warmly, introducing the team.

Jan turned around before going on stage and Jackie gave her a thumbs up.

“Break a leg.” She murmured even when the younger couldn’t hear her from there.

#rpdr fanfiction #jan sport #jackie cox #jankie #college au #lesbian au #slow burn #pretty in pearls #plastiquedoll #concrit welcome

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