#fun fact! the white Thing in front of her was originally a shadow

[uniquezombiedestiny]

you know me well

we've been together for a long, long time, after all

you recognize me, don't you?

(artfight attack for @simikae, ft. her oc piper! :3)

[soulmate-game]

Well, here is the stupid thing I was alluding to. It’s mostly a filler chapter, but yeah.

Harley’s Plea for Help, Chapter 3

“Well, that took a while,” a relatively deep female voice smoothly drawled. The plants placed right next to the window pulled away, no longer blocking the pathway inside. The two figures who were perched right outside the windowsill took the invitation and climbed inside, the shorter of the two looking at the woman who had spoken and smiling widely.

“Auntie Ivy!” Marinette happily exclaimed, making the redhead across from her grin back.

“That’s me. It sure is nice to actually see you in person, little Marigold,” she held out her arms for a hug, which Marinette instantly ran in to accept. “Video calls are never quite enough, are they? You’re so tiny! Are you sure you eat alright?”

“Auntie Ivyyyyyy,” Marinette whined, knowing full well that Ivy was just teasing her.

“So, what took you all so long?” Ivy asked Red Hood, even as she kept her arms wrapped around her soon-to-be daughter in law. “Usually you bats are all about getting back on the streets to punch people, we didn’t think you’d be bringing her in at almost one in the morning.”

Hood shrugged, thumbs hooked in his pockets. “Your little garden fairy nearly gave us the slip. Went straight out the back exit instead of doin’ anything showy like we half expected and we almost missed her.”

“I stopped as soon as I noticed who they were, I swear!” Marinette pulled away from Ivy, holding her hands up in mock surrender. “I didn’t expect Momma to send them to babysit me before our first full day being in Gotham. In hindsight, though, I really should have.”

“Yeah, you should’ve,” Ivy agreed with a smirk, ruffling Marinette’s hair and making her pigtails go a little crooked. “And I know for a fact that you’ve done some stunts off your balcony back in Paris, so at least I know you can be responsible and hold yourself back from doing the same here. Must get that from me, because we both know it doesn’t come from Harley.”

Marinette and Hood both had to laugh at that. Being responsible was definitely not a trait that Marinette could have inherited from anybody in her family tree, that was for sure.

“Are ya makin’ fun of me in front of my daughter?” the comically scandalized voice announced the arrival of one Harley Quinn, who walked into the room in white onesie pajamas with a poker print on them. All of the “joker” cards were crossed out heavily with red sharpie, and a few of them had black-sharpie devil horns and handlebar mustaches vandalizing them. Marinette even caught one such card with a googly eye on it, the matching eye having fallen off and leaving only a small circle of since-dried hot glue where it used to be. “If you guys are gonna be that way, fine! Ivy dyes her hair!”

“No she doesn’t,” Marinette deadpanned, clearly fighting against a giant grin. The corners of her lips gave her away, they never stopped twitching with repressed mirth. “But you do. I got the pictures to prove—- aah!” Harley tackled her daughter to the ground, attacking her with tickles immediately.

“Take it back! My hair is naturally blond!”

“Yeah, naturally— hahahahaha! Sandy blonde! You— hahaha! Have just as much brown— stop I can’t breathe! hahahaha!— as yellow!”

“Hmph,” Harley finally backed off, crossing her eyes and looking away from Marinette with an exaggerated pout. “How dare you reveal my darkest secret?”

“I was a natural redhead even before I got my powers,” was all Ivy had to say, looking all too amused at this turn of events. “Your original costume completely covered your hair.”

“Don’t worry, Harley,” Red Hood butted in, reminding the three girls that he was still here. His tone suggested that he was definitely smiling under his helmet. “We found out about your hair dye years ago.”

“I just cover up the brown parts! It’s not like I’m changin’ much,” she argued before standing up again. “Thanks for gettin’ my cupcake back safely, little birdie. Oh, that's right! I made cupcakes! Hang on, lemme grab one for your trip back!” with that, she span on her heels and ran back further into the apartment. Marinette dashed over to Hood, immediately shoving him to the window.

“Quick, save yourself! Momma can’t bake for her life!” she whispered urgently. “I’ll say you were called away for an emergency, just hurry!”

“It’s not even a lie, getting away from Harley’s baking is an emergency,” Ivy agreed, waving as the vigilante took their advice and fled. It was only three seconds later that Harley slid back into the room, nearly falling due to the feet of her onesie having pretty much zero friction. Her face immediately fell when she saw that her victim was gone, leaving her standing there with a cupcake that was about twice as much frosting as actual cake, covered in sprinkles like a kid’s craft project that was smothered in glitter. The frosting was also shapeless, just heaped on the cake like a half-melted scoop of ice cream. She sighed in despair.

“There goes my chance of giving a bat diabetes. You guys warned him, didn’t ya?”

They both nodded shamelessly. “We’re not that cruel, Harley,” Ivy defended, getting up from her spot on her cushioned armchair and wrapping an arm around her fiance’s waist before she kissed the top of her head gently. “Hood got our little Marigold back safe and sound, and he’s even started a garden at his apartment. He doesn’t deserve to be poisoned by you.”

“I thought you said he got a single cactus at the flea market last month,” Harley deadpanned, making Ivy shrug.

“Might as well be a garden for him, and it’s something he’s not likely to kill so that’s a plus to me. He’s actually taking really good care of the little baby.”

“Speaking of garden!” Marinette gently took the sad excuse of a pastry away from her mom and sat it down on a side table before ushering both of them over to the living room and onto the sofa. “My garden back home is growing so big, I don’t think I can keep everything much longer. I barely have room to walk on the terrace, with all the vines and leaves and branches. Got any ideas of what I can do?”

“Of course! Do you have pictures, Marigold?”

—*—*—*—*—*

Slipping back through her hotel window at six in the morning was risky, since it involved climbing the wall and hoping nobody saw, but her classmates were so unpredictable that it was the only way she could be sure nobody would find out that she had violated curfew and snuck out. Of course, having Red Robin waiting outside her mom’s apartment’s terrace to escort her back helped. At least she knew that no street cams would record her comings or goings, and his grappling hook made the whole scale-the-hotel-wall business much more efficient.

Once she was inside, she sighed happily. “Thanks, now—“ her apology was cut off as Red Robin held up a finger to tell her to wait.

“Hold that thought, be right back. Don’t move.”

Thinking, rightfully, that something was wrong, Marinette obeyed. She watched Red Robin leap off of her hotel balcony and disappear into the streets. Immediately, she began a search to make sure her room had been left untampered— everything important had been packed in the backpack that she had taken to her mom’s place, but still. Could never be too careful. By the time she finished checking for bugs or any signs of snooping, Red Robin landed back on her balcony.

“Here we go.”

Turning to face him, Marinette opened her mouth to ask what the problem had been— only to tear up a little and walk over to the vigilante.

“Oh, my hero. Truly, my one and only savior. Knight in shining red Kevlar. I’m running on two hours of sleep and you have read my mind!” The pigtailed drama queen eagerly took the coffee that he offered her, and he sipped from a larger cup that looked like he had grabbed it from the same place. Marinette almost instantly sighed in gratitude when the hot drink lightly scalded her tongue. This. This was the elixir of life.

To his credit, Red Robin was able to restrain himself to merely an amused smirk. Probably because he was running on just as little sleep as she was. “Sorry it’s only a small, I figured it was best to have something you could finish quickly and easily hide the evidence for. If you need more caffeine, I happen to know that Wayne Enterprises has a very good coffee shop in their main hall. You’ll be touring there today, right?” He asked, taking another sip as he waited for the answer that he already knew.

Marinette nodded absently, drinking in the euphoria of her coffee as she tried to both savor it yet finish it as quickly as safely possible. When she came up for air, she said; “Yeah, that’s right. We’re touring Wayne Enterprises for most of the day, having lunch there, and leaving for dinner after the tour. Then we have a visit to the Gotham Museum of Fine Art, and we’ll stay there until about eight-thirty before heading back to the hotel.”

Red Robin nodded, then turned and looked out the window at the slowly rising sun. Sunrise was always a bit later in Gotham, partly because of the abundance of high-rises and partly because of the thick cloud cover and ever-present fog on the edges of the city making everything seem darker than it should have been. He had to be at work soon himself, which is why he had been chosen to escort her to the hotel in the first place, but that meant that he had to be heading off.

“Alright. We arranged for a bodyguard we trust to keep an eye on your class during the WE tour, but he doesn't know who you are or that we’re the ones who asked. We’re still in the process of arranging someone to shadow you after the tour, but we’ll tell you about that once it’s solidified. Until then, follow the usual self-defense procedures if you suspect anyone of following you. You have the panic button we gave you?”

Marinette nodded, gulping down the last of her coffee and carefully putting it in her room’s tiny trash can. “Got it. Thanks, again. Seriously,” she met his eyes— or, probably did since they were hidden behind that weird white film that the whole Batfam had covering the eyeholes of their masks. “I mean it. For listening to me, for listening to Mom. It means a lot. I’ll keep the panic button on me, and I’ll use it if I think I can’t handle a situation on my own. I’ll cooperate with the people you get to watch over the class, and I’ll do my best to not get into any trouble. No promises, but I’ll do my best,” she maintained eye contact until Red Robin nodded, hiding his expression behind his coffee cup. After a second, he cleared his throat.

“Well then. We’ll contact you once we have anything to say about your intel. Until then, I gotta go. And by the way?”

Marinette tilted her head curiously as Red Robin paused for just a moment on her balcony railing, aiming a smirk back at her. “Yeah?”

“Welcome to Gotham.”

And if she couldn’t help but smile widely as he grappled off into the fog-veiled sunrise? Well, only she had to know. She wasted no time closing and locking the glass balcony door, and pulling the curtains over it completely. Once that was done, she couldn’t help but do a little shimmy of Joy. She was caffeinated, she met Auntie Ivy in person for the first time, she got to sleep next to her momma— and she was in Gotham! Technically her hometown— or town she was conceived in? Didn’t matter. Point was, even with the chaos and dark energy clouding the very air, she couldn’t help but feel like she belonged in that city. Like that was where she was always meant to end up, where she could thrive and the environment that she was made to thrive in. The environment that she was born to start fixing.

She beamed at herself in her bathroom mirror as she gave herself one more once-over. Yeah, so far her visit to Gotham was going much better than she could have hoped. Now, she just had to make sure it stayed that way.

Three businesslike raps sounded against the door to her room, just in time for Marinette to feed Tikki one more cookie and straighten her purse on her shoulder. Madame Mendelieve’s voice called out from the other side of the door in her usual no-nonsense bark;

“Dupain-Cheng! Room check! It’s time to get up, we’re meeting down in the lobby in ten minutes.”

Marinette ran up to the door, not quite able to contain her energy, and swung it open with her trademark large, beaming smile.

“Way ahead of you, Madame Mendelieve!”

Her science teacher blinked, adjusting her glasses on her nose as if she couldn’t quite believe what she was seeing.

“Ah. You’re already awake and ready?”

Marinette giggled and nodded. “Yup! I was so excited for the tour that I could barely sleep! Does the hotel breakfast include free coffee?”

—*—*—*—*—*

The hotel breakfast did, in fact, include coffee. What it did not include, however, was free coffee that Marinette could reasonably stomach. Especially after the heaven in a cup that Red Robin had gotten for her earlier, the watered down motor oil in the hotel lobby had been unbearable. She had barely managed two sips before regretfully throwing the rest away. Which is what brought her to stand in line at the very same coffee shop that Red Robin had mentioned was in the main hall of Wayne Enterprises, as the rest of her class mingled and waited for their teachers to check their tour group in and their tour guide to arrive.

“Hmm. Sorry, this is my first time ordering here,” she apologized when she reached the counter, gaining a slight lopsided grin from the barista at the register. “Um, I usually like strong coffee, with a lot of caffeine, but I also like something sweet. I don’t need anything too complicated though, do you have any recommendations?”

The barista gave her a customer service smile that seemed just a tad softer at the edges than usual. “Sure! So, we can add an extra shot or two of espresso to any of our drinks, to make it stronger and give it an extra kick. If you’re looking for good sweet flavors, the classics are our white chocolate or caramel. But we also have a seasonal syrup right now that I personally love, which is our cinnamon butterscotch. Did you wanna try that?”

Marinette smiled widely. “That sounds delicious! Then, if I could have your largest size café latte, hot, with… two extra shots and that syrup? Does that sound good?”

The barista actually let loose a soft laugh, already keying in the order. “If you’re a coffee lover and a sweet tooth at the same time, then you’ll love it. If not, come back during your tour’s lunch break and I’ll make you something else.”

Marinette made a little more small talk as she handed over the proper cash for the order, and grabbed her drink after just another minute’s wait. She turned around, taking a sip of the unsurprisingly heavenly coffee and started off to join her class.

Only to realize none of them were where she had left them. She sighed, starting to reach into her purse to see if anyone had texted her about where they were going, but a heavy presence stopped her. She could feel him approaching from in front of her, slightly to her right, but she couldn’t hear him at all. On guard, she straightened up and turned to observe the potential threat.

A security guard. Marinette blinked, running over what she had been told earlier that morning. Was he..?

He seemed to notice her instinctually defensive posture because he raised his hands to show he meant no harm. “Sorry, didn’t mean to catch you off guard,” he apologized. “I’m the guard that was assigned to your tour group. I offered to stay behind until you got your coffee while the rest of your group went ahead and got the run-down on all the boring rules and whatnot of the tour. Figured you’d already know everything they had to say anyway, you’re the class president right?”

Marinette relaxed her posture, nodding and sending the man a relieved smile. “Yeah, that’s right. Well, that explains why they left without me then. Usually Madame Mendelieve is strict about following rules though, how’d you convince her to go on without me?”

The man chuckled, jerking his head to show that she should follow him as he began to lead the way to a side door. Marinette kept her guard up just in case, but wasn’t too worried. If nothing else, she was still in the middle of a super crowded building and the other security guards around didn’t seem concerned. She could easily yell for help if she needed to.

“Well, can’t you tell it was my devilish charm?” He teased, grinning. He waited until she rolled her eyes to continue; “but really, I’m like a second tour guide. She made me show a lotta proof that I’m actually assigned to you guys and not just faking it, not that I can blame her. Eventually she saw the logic in my suggestion and agreed. See, there they are,” he pointed casually ahead of them in the large side hallway they had entered. Sure enough, near the end of the hallway was her class at what looked to be the tail-end of a standard rules-and-guidelines speech from the tour guide. “By the way,” the guard spoke up again, holding his hand out. “My name’s Jason. You’ll be seeing me more often, since I’m supposed to guard you guys for all of your visits to the Tower. Call me if you need help with anything, ‘kay kid?”

Marinette grinned, now positive that this guy really was the guard that Red Robin had said was assigned to her class. She switched the hand she was holding her coffee in so that she could properly grab Jason’s hand for a shake.

“Got it, Monsieur Jason. Let’s both hope I don’t end up needing your help though, I think that would be easier on both of us,” she joked, earning a chuckle from the large man. And— yeah, now that she was relaxed, he really was big, wasn’t he? Then again, Marinette didn’t always realize when people were a bit larger or more buff than they should be. Living with her dad had seriously skewed her perception of the normal size of an adult male (which, she learned when she was seven, most definitely was not almost seven feet tall and muscled enough to make a pro wrestler jealous). But she would like to think she had gotten better in that aspect, and Jason was definitely a big guy. A little over six feet tall, she thought, and though the guard outfit hid a good portion of his physique, she could tell he carried enough muscle to do serious damage if he wanted to.

With a wave, she left him to join her class and sipped at her latte. She had figured that the Bat Clan’s criteria for civilians that they would put to guard her class had to be high, but now she had to wonder just how high. Most police officers or security guards were fit, sure, but not like Jason. Casting a quick glance back at him, she confirmed that he had quite a few faded but visible scars. Again, more than your average officer even for Gotham. Who had they tasked with her class’ safety, exactly?

An elbow in her side distracted her from her thoughts, forcing her to blink and stop her cup from going back to her lips. The grin of none other than Adrien Agreste greeted her when she snapped out of her own head long enough to pay attention to her surroundings. He jerked his head to indicate that the class was already starting to move off.

“Come on, Mari or you’ll get left behind again,” he teased. She grinned back at him, rolling her eyes but falling into step beside him as they followed at the back of their class. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were gonna marry that coffee. You haven’t zoned out that badly in years,” his tone was light and cheery, but Marinette didn’t miss the concern in his emerald eyes. She sighed, gently bumping her shoulders against his in silent reassurance.

“I’m fine. Just didn’t get much sleep last night, that’s all. But this really is good coffee. Elixir of the gods,” then, just to provoke him, she took a giant gulp of the still steaming hot drink. Adrien grimaced in pained sympathy even though Marinette didn’t seem affected at all.

“Oww, Marineeeeeeeeeette,” he whined. “Don’t do that, my throat hurts just watching you guzzle hot coffee like that,” he complained, rubbing at his neck to make his point clear.

“Wimp,” she teased, unrepentant. Adrien just groaned dramatically.

“I’m not a wimp, you’re just concerningly used to burning your throat from the inside out,” he accused. “Anyway, how’d it go?” He was being deliberately vague, but it was obvious to her what he meant. He was only one she had told about visiting her mom, after all, just in case she needed a quick getaway.

In fact, he was the only one of her friends that she had even told about her biological parents. Alix knew too, but only because of time shenanigans. Marinette was fine with it now, but still.

“It went great,” she smiled widely at him, keeping her voice low but casual. “If I have a chance, I’ll introduce you sometime during the trip. I have a feeling you’ll love Auntie Selina, but I have to meet her first. All I have so far are stories.”

“Fair enough,” Adrien agreed easily. “But you don’t have to, you know that right? I’d love to meet your family, but I’m also fine just being your pseudo-brother like I have been up until now. I know it might be a bit… uncomfortable, for you.”

“Nah,” Marinette shrugged. “Nerve wracking, maybe. But that’s also about half the things that I do in my life period, anxiety is no joke. I’ll catastrophize for a while, but I know you’ll love them and they’ll love you.”

“Sounds like they have paw-some taste,” he didn’t even miss a beat with his puns, earning a playful glare for his efforts.

“Never mind. You’re a heathen. Disowned. Who are you?”

“Mariiiiii,” he whined, causing them both to laugh for a while before focusing on the tour.

So far, so good, Marinette thought.

—*—*—*—*—*

Part 1 Part 2

@emotionalsupportginger @alysrose-starchild @emistar0 @kibastray @justanotherfanficlovinbitch @alyssadeliv @blackroserelina @blackstarlight-co @readingalldaysleepingallnight @maanae @aespades @jaybird-and-co @fleursroses @probably-a-hologram @misterpianoman @deathssilentapproach-blog @user00000003 @frieddonutsweets @blur-of-colours @prettylittlebutterflie @ladyqnoirr @a-star-with-a-human-name @mizzy-pop @laurcad123 @dorkus-minimus @chocolatecatstheron @tazanna-blythe @golden-promises @literaryhiraeth @asrainterstellar @hewantedbeefintheparkinglot @miraculous-trinity-leo @missanalysis @lovelyautumnsunflower @lolieg @ann0631 @whitetiger1249 @meow-now @toodaloo-kangaroo

[frabjoyous]

ICO Regional Differences- What are they, really?

Intro: (You Can Skip This)

ICO is a game with a lot of interesting history behind it- while it never achieved the wider-spread acclaim of, say, Shadow of the Colossus, the title that came after it, it’s still beloved by a small but vocal fanbase to this day. 

Some know the story of the disaster of the North American release of the game. Its development was rushed to be out on the market in time for the Christmas season, which lead to it launching on September 24, 2001. In contrast, the game didn’t debut in Japan until December 06, 2001. This resulted in missing content, and alterations to puzzles. 

... Or so any online source will tell you, and then elaborate on NONE OF IT. 

Okay, not “none of it”. Some of the missing content is widely documented, but there are other miscellaneous changes that are only ever vaguely referenced, and rarely if ever are there comparison pictures included. If you are anything like me, or in other words are a huge nerd in general who must know every tiny detail of your niche interests and also rabid fan of all incarnations of ICO, this is infuriating on many levels. 

Now, all changes were restored in the HD remaster, released in September 2011. But comparison footage is scarce (mainly, I suspect, because only a few people besides myself are that bored), and copies of the original release are hard to come by to compare for oneself- my copy stopped working in 2015 after many years of love. Therefore, I have taken it upon myself to scour the internet and document all the details myself- I found some very interesting and not so interesting things in my investigation. Hopefully, I covered just about everything.

Without further ado, here is what’s different about the original North American release of ICO, versus all later releases:

Things Everyone Knows: Missing New Game Plus Goodies, Yorda’s AI, and Horrible Art

These things are all widely covered and anyone with even a passing interest in the game already knows about them. If you don’t, there are tons of other sources and videos that explore these things in more depth, so I’m only going to summarize them briefly (links included for your convenience):

Missing Goodies

The New Game + bonuses are missing entirely, which include:

Two secret weapons you can obtain: the Spiked Club and Shining Sword. The Shining Sword can only be obtained if you previously acquired the Spiked Club.

A new visual option called Film Effect.

An optional extra ending cutscene (“the watermelon scene”)

Yorda and the Queen’s speech is translated

A two-player mode which allows another player with a second controller to play as Yorda

Yorda’s AI

Yorda’s AI was almost entirely unfinished in the NA version, to the frustration of many a player.

In the PAL/HD release, Yorda provides hints by pointing in the direction of important puzzle elements and saying Ico’s name, or looks/runs in the direction the player needs to go. She also has an animation where she shakes her head at you and utters a voice clip if you’re attempting to get her to perform an impossible jump or action, as if to say “I can’t do that.”.

Update: @casually-crooked​ has created and linked me to an awesome doc that goes way more into detail about Yorda’s hint system here.

In the NA version, she does none of this, and in fact spends most of her time standing still. Even if shadow creatures are approaching, she’ll stay exactly where she is and allow herself to be grabbed and carted away.

That Fuck Ugly Cover

The cover art for the game wasn’t finished when the game shipped to the US, which means for a long time many fans, including myself, were stuck having to look at this HIDEOUS thing:

(Left: Front cover, Right: Back cover)

The cover features a white-washed Yorda who doesn’t have pale skin and sports brown hair and purple eyes for some reason, and an Ico who looks like a caveman trying to remember if he left the oven on. Or maybe the bastard love-child of Bruce Campbell and some unfortunate bovine.

(Fun fact: while editing the images for this post I made a strange discovery- there are TWO versions of this awful thing. The second looks like this.)

The PAL/HD version’s art looks like this:

(Left: Back cover, Right: Front cover)

Much nicer.

Altered Puzzles: Which ones, and How?

The Windmill

Okay, I barely count this as an actual difference, but you can occasionally find reference to it, so I’ll cover it briefly:

In the PAL/HD version, there’s this little block/ledge you have to jump on to get onto the Windmill.

In the NA version the platform/stairs appear to be taller or the first ledge is lower, so you can just kinda jump up there.

(Left: HD/PAL, Right: NA)

That’s literally it. The rest of the puzzle is identical across all versions.

The Watermill

This puzzle is actually different- or more accurately, doesn’t exist.

Upon entering the room immediately proceeding the “water” elements of said puzzle, your eye may be caught by this interesting contraption (commonly referred to as “the piston” or “the piston jump”):

(Left: HD/PAL, Right: NA)

Unless of course you’re playing the NA version, where there is absolutely nothing here.

From here, you’ll climb up a ladder on the other side of the room and then shimmy across some pipes in the wall, then drop down onto this platform.

(Top: Switch, Bottom: No Switch. What switch? There was never a switch! Go away!)

In the PAL/HD version, you’ll pull this switch, which activates the piston. You’ll then proceed back to the floor to climb atop the piston and do a timed jump off it as it bounces upwards, which will catapult Ico high enough to reach some ledges/boards along the wall and make his way up to the ledge, and door, that leads to the next section.

In the NA version, since there is no piston and no switch, Ico simply continues to shimmy along another long pipe in order to reach this same ledge. This is not possible in the HD version, as here the pipe is shorter and doesn’t go that far.

Top: Broken pipe, Bottom: Looong pipe)

The smaller ledges/boards the ICO would grab onto after performing the piston jump are also absent. Rather than being one solid wall, the ledge simply juts out into the air.

We continue on with the rest of this puzzle still being totally gutted in the NA version. Allow me to summarize:

In the HD version: Once outside, ICO jumps onto the waterwheel, then onto the pipe looking thing on the wall, which he climbs up to reach the giant lever to drop the water gate.

In the NA version: Ico suicide jumps into the rushing water like a fool, manages to catch the ledge near the end, and then climbs up a conveniently placed ladder.

(this ladder does exist in the HD version, but it’s more than half broken, so Ico can use it to partially climb down off the platform with the giant lever, but not to climb up)

(Top: Waterwheel, Bottom: No waterwheel)

(Top: Jump on the wheel, Bottom: YOLO)

(Top: Jump on the pole-y thing, climb up and turn the switch, broken ladder around the corner, Bottom: Ladders are puzzles, right?)

Obviously this is pretty ridiculous. One can only assume that the models used in this puzzle weren’t finished when the game released in America. I know that young me was thoroughly stumped when I first encountered this area, as I didn’t assume the solution was to sprint headlong into the rushing water, and spent entirely too long wandering around the environment looking for clues that didn’t exist.

That about covers the changes made to any puzzles themselves. If you want to be SUPER nitpicky, in the PAL/HD version, you have to hit the chandelier with the stick once to make it fall, whereas in the NA version you only have to jump on it. With that, we’ve now covered all actual changes or missing pieces of all puzzles.

Gameplay and Controls:

Cutscenes are skippable in the PAL/HD version, whereas the NA version allows you to skip exactly three: Yorda leaving her cage, the first scene at the main gate, and the water tower exploding. All other cutscenes cannot be skipped.

Controls are altered slightly. In most versions you must hold down R1 to maintain grip on Yorda’s hand, but in the NA version you need only press it once, and she’ll hang on until you either press it again or break grip somehow. (I understand there is an option to change to this control scheme in the menu of the HD/PAL version)

Climbing is performed with only triangle in most versions. The NA version climbs with both triangle and UP. Also apparently dropping from chains automatically catches you in the PAL version. Falling to your death is the American Way.

Shadow Creatures

Shadow creatures are WEAKER in the PAL/HD version. In this version, large shadows have 11 HP, small shadows have 7. In the NA version, shadows have 14 HP. They’re also more aggressive, can hit through your swings rather than be parried, fly faster while carrying Yorda, and spider shadows can hit you. Practically halfway across the goddamn room, in fact.

A few sources I read said shadow pools had different or more/less frequent spawn points, but in my research I wasn’t personally able to find the differences they were talking about. The only one I did find is a slight change in timing: Pulling the switch to lower the drawbridge at the Gondola immediately spawns several Shadow gates in the NA version. In the HD version, the portals do not spawn until Ico and Yorda approach the drawbridge.

Visual Differences: Unfinished Models, Lack of Polish, Altered Camera Angles, and other tweaks

The first and most glaring difference I’d like to note is something I can’t believe I couldn’t find mentioned on any source that I personally checked: Yorda’s character model. Her hair length and style have been significantly altered: The NA model has longer hair and prominent bangs, whereas the final version is much shorter and choppier. Personally I like the NA model better, but that’s neither here nor there. 

(Left: HD/PAL, Right: NA)

It really goes to show how desperate they were to release this game in time for the Christmas rush when one out of two main character’s models hadn’t been finalized.

While we’re on the subject of Yorda, several of the visual effects involving her close to the game’s climax were also not complete.

When ICO and Yorda finally open the castle gate, Yorda is zapped of power and energy. To illustrate this, her hair completely loses its color and turns the same stark white as her skin. This change is not present in the NA version.

(Left: HD/PAL, Right: NA)

Not long after this, when the Queen appears behind Yorda on the bridge, a shadowy effect ominously begins to encroach upon and finally engulf Yorda. Here you can see this effect looks very different.

(Left: HD/PAL Right: NA)

Finally the model for stone/statue Yorda is different. It sports the same hair model as regular NA Yorda and also has unpolished lighting/shading.

(Top: HD/PAL, Bottom: NA)

Beyond that, visual differences are actually quite minor.

The title screen says “Continue” rather than “Load” and sports the same altered font used by the rest of the game.

(Left: HD/PAL, Right: NA)

The save screen has been similarly updated.

(Left: HD/PAL, Right: NA)

We have a different font for dialogue too.

(Left: HD/PAL, Right: NA)

The model for this switch, which is used at both the Watermill and the Gondola, wasn’t finished in the NA version.

(Top: HD/PAL, Bottom: NA)

This platform has GRASS. (it is however the same platform which is missing a switch and half of a drawbridge, which I’ll get to in a minute.)

(Left: HD/PAL, Right: NA)

The cutscene where Ico picks up the queen’s sword is different- the camera angles are changed and he has a different animation. (Sorry, this was so minor and goes by so quickly I couldn’t really capture any decent pictures of it)

The cutscene where Ico discovers stone Yorda surrounded by shadow creatures is slightly different-

The NA version is at a different, more zoomed out camera angle, where you can see the shadows more clearly.

The HD version begins at a lower camera angle, and then switches to zoom in on stone Yorda. The shadow creatures also have a slightly different animation when looming over stone Yorda and when Ico approaches them at the top of the stairs.

(Left: HD/PAL, Right: NA)

The shadow creatures also have different animations for attacking Ico, like scampering and lunging, whereas in the NA version they primarily just fly around and jump backwards.

Shadow Yorda’s model also looks a little more refined to me, but it’s basically the same.

The scene in the credits where Ico and Yorda run toward the castle gate is shown from a different angle, as are the scenes of Ico and Yorda meeting.

Finally, the NA version says “Fin”, but the HD version says “end”.

Moved Props and other weird stuff

These changes are so minor or so useless I don’t really count them as puzzles differences, but technically they aren’t purely visual differences. Geometry differences?

This switch/couch has been moved around (beginning of the trolley area). Actually, I don’t think there’s a couch anywhere in this area at all. On top of the large platform is where the switch is supposed to be.

(Left: HD/PAL, Right: NA)

(Left: HD/PAL, Right: NA)

In the Stone Pillar area, the block you need to push off the ledge to pull Yorda up is right next to the edge of the ledge in the NA version, but located further away in the corner of the grassy area in the HD version. Similarly, the box ICO has to push into the water at the Watermill is located on the edge of the ledge in the NA version, but here again is located in a further corner of the area in the HD version. (Couldn’t get any decent pictures of this)

A somewhat bigger change can be found on the same platform that has GRASS.

In the PAL/HD version, there is a lowered drawbridge here, and a switch that activates it. This bridge leads back into the room near the beginning of the game where you have to push a crate to raise the staircase, for… reasons? There’s no reason you need to go back into this room, so why it exists in the first place is somewhat puzzling. (I’m given to understand there’s some kind of speedrunning trick involving it, for whatever that’s worth)

(Left: HD/PAL, Right: NA)

In the NA version, there’s no switch, and it’s just the remains of a crumbled bridge.

The chandelier boards are flat and BORING, making the chandelier easier to see.

(Left: HD/PAL, Right: NA)

This save couch only exists in the NA version.

(Left: HD/PAL, Right: NA)

In the room which you enter from the cemetery, the NA version has a random rail added here.

This rail does not exist in the PAL/HD version. You can walk onto the ledge to go…

… exactly nowhere.

In the courtyard, there’s a little door you can walk through the leads you out onto the balcony overlooking the cemetery. Neat! Shows you how the castle is put together.

In the NA version, this door is a wall.

(Left: NA, Right: HD/PAL)

This doorway that leads back to castle gate once it is ready to be opened is blocked by Idol doors in the NA version, whereas in the PAL/HD version it’s open.

(Top: HD/PAL, Bottom: NA)

When Ico enters the door to the final boss area, he steps on a platform that lifts upwards (like an elevator to the room). In the NA version, he simply walks through the door.

Misc:

“You Were There” starts playing at an earlier point in the cutscene where shadow Yorda carries Ico to the boat in the HD/PAL version.

Last but not least, my favorite difference of them all: Ico can inexplicably pull the light reflectors much faster in the NA version.

Conclusion:

At the end of the day, the NA release of Ico is, at heart, the same game- merely lacking the small remaining amount of time and polish it needed and deserved. One can only speculate whether it would have garnered more mainstream acclaim in the west if it had gotten these things, rather than the rush job it did get. Nevertheless, myself and many others who opened up that ghastly-looking box on Christmas morning still look back on it fondly. For all those wondering what exactly it was we missed out, I think I covered it- but let me know if you spotted anything I missed!

This has been silly post on a topic I enjoy. Maybe you enjoyed it as well!

Sources:

ICO Wiki

Speedrun.com

Nomad’s Blog

Ico HD Walkthrough - EightbitHD

PS2 - ICO - Longplay - Levan

[dragonoffantasyandreality]

Ghost of the Sea

-Part 4-

Well that was quick 😂 I felt I wasn't feeling productive today, so I just wrote the chapter to cope. But also, I just couldn't wait lol. This one's really fun to write.😁

Again, you can always find the chapter on Ao3!

@teapotteringabout @mothmannerly @dreamycloud @uniwolfcorn @myladykayo @janetm74 @the-original-sineater @skymaiden32

-0-0-0-

"Tower from Stingray! Tower from Stingray! Coming Tower!" called Captain Troy Tempest, as he and his partner navigate the mighty strike vessel through some steep rocks.

"This is Tower to Stingray," Commander Shore replied from the comms, "How was it, Troy?"

"Well, its has been nearly half an hour into the investigation. Still no sigh of that 'Ghost Creature'," reported the Captain.

"It should be not far. We still getting reports of a 'giant shadow' or a 'ghostly blue light' in your area, " explained the Commander with a slight bit of optimism.

"Right Commander. We'll report you again if we find anything suspicious," Troy said.

After a brief good luck from Commander Shore, the young Captain ordered Phones turned on the hydrophones. Short, faint echos came back. No big object detected in front of Stingray.

The WASP ship kept her nose close to the sand bank, almost like the actual animal sniffing for any trace of food. At least, to the curious eyes of a distant big shadow that was moving cautiously along with the strike vessel...

"Hey!" cried Phones as he reached for his headphones.

"What is it Phones?" Troy raised a curious brow at his partner.

The Hydrophones operator listened carefully, his face squinting as if he was making sure what he was hearing wasn't from his mind. Then, he gave the Captain an uneasy look, "I'm hearing a low humming noise in the background..." he reported.

Then he shivered, his eyes grew wide with a scared face, "W-Was that... The Ghost...?"

"There's no such thing as ghosts!" Troy retorted sternly, "Are you sure its not some white noise the Hydrophones were making?"

"We checked and double checked them last night and they were okay!" reminded Phones, "And remember, these things are pretty sensitive, they could pick up a very low or high frequency sound that we don't hear sometimes..."

The Captain quickly turned to the window and his eyes narrowed in suspicion as they darted across ocean left and right. Immediately, he saw something in the distance... Or was it something? He thought he saw a big shadow...

"We should keep our eyes peeled..." muttered Troy in a low tone.

The unease grew as time goes on. The low humming noise still present, but louder. Echos still faint. Soon the crew started to think they were seeing things in the murky waters of the twilight. Movements in the sand. Big shadows in the dark waters. And sometimes... They were glimpses of lights in between walls of rocks.

It was like... Stingray was being followed...

At one point, the crew picked up strong echos in front of them. A moving object finally! And this time, the humming grew louder...

They decided to chased after it. Swift as a strong current, they navigated Stingray to the place they picked up the signal. Pouncing on it!

But, the incredible speed of their strike vessel cannot account the terrifying disappearance of the said object. Leaving them alone. In the near darkness. Yet the uneasy feeling never left.

In fact, the Stingray crew felt like they were being watched...

"I think we should surface. Boy, that tension was too much..." Captain Troy ordered with tensed breath, when he noticed an really nervous Marina had moved to the pilots, holding tightly to a similarly nervous Phones, who was just gripping his steering wheel a little too hard.

Troy had never experienced such fear! Not even that tense moment during the mission with Loch Ness Monster could top the feeling he felt at this moment.

Could that 'Ghost Creature' emit such a strong presence? He thought.

Stingray began to surface, slowly. Each minute, the pressure was lifted. Light of dawn could be seen through the mirrored surface, before being breached.

A fresh of air filled the moment Troy, Phones and Marina got out through the hatch of the submarine's nose. Relief ease their bodies. But the thought of the mission still remained. With binoculars at hand, the pilots watched the surface of the ocean for any sigh of the monster.

"Boy! Wish we could take a small dip into the ocean. Just to get the pressure off.." Phones pondered.

Troy looked down at water from the rim of the craft. Then smiled with a squinted eye when he spotted some familiar blue sails floating in the waves.

"Uuhh... Guess we won't be swimming today," the Captain sighed.

Phones followed his best friend's gaze and squinted at the sight of blue bottles jellyfish littering the ocean under the dawning sun.

"What a terrifying beauty..." he said sarcastically.

Marina huffed in amusement at Phones' statement. Just as she turned around back at the sea, her face dropped as her eyes widened. There was a blue light in water near the horizon. Shining almost like an eye in the dark. It was completely imobile, almost unaffected by the movements of the waves.

The lady of the sea began tapping on the Hydrophones operator's shoulder, almost frantically, to get his attention.

"What is it, Marina?" asked Phones. Marina pointed at the direction of the light, which he sees it and called for his Captain, "Troy! Marina found a shiny one!"

Troy immediately walked next to his partner and friend, gazing at the same direction as his crew mates. He squinted his eyes at it, then after a moment he frowned.

"Wait a minute... That's not a shiny blue bottle..." Troy muttered. Everyone then looked at each other with wide eyes.

Moments later, they were back inside Stingray. With orders thrown to accelerate and turn sharp to port, the strike vessel cut to the chase! Her retractable hydrofoils gliding her through the jelly fish infested waters!

As if noticing the tiny submarine coming towards it, the light began to move forward... But it seemed it didn't accelerate. Like it didn't need to. Because as soon as Stingray pounced on it, a loud scraping sound of metal could be heard! Making the crew's hearts dropped in horror.

Stingray hit the something sharp on the side of the glowing object. Taking out her hydrofoils and scraped her underside. Then... The WASP ship began to sink. As Troy, Phones and Marina scrambled to quickly secure the ship to prevent flooding into the cabin, Stingray sunk into the depths.

Down and down she goes to the sand bank. While the huge shadow of the 'Ghost Creature' loomed over her...

[codenamed-queenie]

#BatsInQuarantine

I am going insane. So I poured my restlessness into one long and very detailed post and got super into it. Please enjoy this hot mess.

The Justice League, being the well-meaning virus-proof Super Friends that they are, took one good look at the news, one good look at their non-powered friends Ollie, Bruce, and their families, and collectively decided that these normal humans must be Protected At All Costs.

Now, keep in mind, Bruce is never one to roll over when it comes to being benched. 

However, he understands the importance of social distancing. He knows he needs to set a good example for his kids, and keep up appearances as Gotham’s Most Responsible Multi-Billionaire. 

So. Quarantine it is. 

But how are his kids handling it?

Dick - 

100% on board in the beginning. Gotta do the Responsible Thing. Gotta set a Good Example. Besides, guys, this is gonna be Fun. Quality Family Time is always a Must.

He lasted 2 days. 

Then he started to get twitchy. 

And as everyone knows? A Trapped Dick Grayson is a Feral Dick Grayson.

He bounces off the walls.

Literally.

“I have to climb.” 

“Dick, no.”  

“I have to climb everything.”

Has scaled the manor 16 times already. Has climbed the chandelier. The banister. Bruce. The roof. The Cave. Anything in the house that’s been bolted down and especially anything that hasn’t. 

Duke found him clinging to the wall 10 ft off the ground like Spiderman and screamed so loud it shattered glass. 

Desperate for news of the outside. 

He thrives off of it like a starving man. 

Was the one to suggest he and Barbara take a break to Social Distance from each other (”Sorry, babe, kissing spreads germs”) and experienced Instant Regret(TM) approximately 5 minutes after. 

The Family has labelled him a Flight Risk Level 1 (Most likely to say f**k it and make a break for the outside world)

Jason - 

Accidentally got trapped inside the manor with the others when Bruce called Shutdown. If he had his way, he’d be chilling in his favorite safe-house right now, binging The Witcher with Roy and Artemis, and not worrying about finding a stray brother in his sock drawer.

But he’s nothing if not an opportunist. 

The way he sees it, Jason has 3 options:

Self Improvement

Self Isolation (See Duke, Cass, and Damian)

Descension Into Madness (See Dick and Steph)

And, well, he always wanted to try a few things. Now he’s got the free time to do it.

So he settles on baking. 

Alfred’s got enough food and raw ingredients stored up to feed an army. (Not because he’s a Panic-Buying-Hoarder in times like these. But because he’s a Panic-Buying-Hoarder all the time. Just try feeding 11+ teenagers sometime.)

Uses recipes he finds off Google.

His first few attempts are, in a word, ‘tragic’.

Alfred slips him a few of his recipe cards, and Jason suddenly starts seeing Results. 

Turns out he’s pretty good at this baking thing once he gets the hang of it. 

Hope everyone’s okay eating nothing but pie, macaroons, biscuits, and whatever else Jason whips up. 

Cause that’s gonna be the only food left by the time he’s done. 

Barbara - 

Self-quarantined with her dad. 

They’ve been binge-watching classic black and white movies together.

It’s a fun time, but she’s started to get a little antsy. Loving her dad and wanting to be around him 24/7 are, understandably, mutually exclusive. 

Calls the manor to video-chat every day.

For her sanity just as much as theirs. 

Gives everyone little challenges to film on their phones and send in. She makes compilations of everyone’s submissions so they can all watch and laugh together. 

Bonus points for Creativity

One comp shows the family trying to drop Mentos into coke bottles. 

Dick did a handstand, and dropped his Mento from the second story balcony. 

Tim did it wearing the Batman cowl. The soda exploded into his face, and the rest of the video is just Bruce’s Shrieking.

Stephanie tried it, but the bottle tipped. Everyone on camera screamed as the bottle rocketed through the front window. 

She spends most of her calls having one-on-one convos with Dick.

They’ve come up with little code phrases so they can be Cheesy even with family members lurking in the background. 

She thinks the way he clings to the monitor is cute. 

Almost like he’s giving her a hug through the screen. 

(It’s easier than letting herself worry about his mental state, at least)

Tim -

Oh this boy.

Freaked out for the first five minutes before he decided ‘hey wait, Bruce is letting me stay in my pajamas all day? Noice.’ 

Now he’s just vibing.

The rest of his family is Low-Key shielding him.

He Has No Spleen, you see.

Steph: “Someone could cough on him and he could die!”

He just goes about his day, playing Animal Crossing like there’s no tomorrow, tinkering on projects, taking naps, etc. Living his best life.

Meanwhile there’s always someone lurking behind him, keeping watch, keeping him safe. 

Dick sneezed within 5 feet of Tim once (the fact that he was on top of the dusty bookshelf Tim was perusing is irrelevant)

Jason still full-body tackled him the second Tim’s back was turned. 

No one with any symptoms--

Like, any symptoms. They don’t even have to be Corona-related.

--is allowed within 10 feet of Tim. 

Tim has been wandering the manor for weeks, now, without seeing another human being. 

(He sees Dick on the ceiling sometimes, but that doesn’t really count)

He’s been trying increasingly drastic pranks and shenanigans to draw someone, anyone, out. 

But it doesn’t matter how many times he steals Damian’s sword, or sets fire to Jason’s brownie bites.

Nobody wants to risk it. 

Cass - 

No one has seen her since quarantine started.

Everyone is approximately 87% sure she’s somewhere in the manor though

Because she does eat the meals Alfred leaves out for her.

Or at least someone does, at any rate. 

(Jason and Santa top the running suspects list)

Santa was Steph’s suggestion. For some reason it snowballed. 

It’s assumed that Cass misunderstood the meaning of ‘social distancing’ and took it too far. 

But no one knows for sure. 

She is Tim’s Guardian Angel. 

People who so much as clear their throats a little too loudly anywhere near him suddenly wake up on a different floor of the house four hours later. 

Duke came closest to spotting her while he was up in the attic. 

Either that, or there’s another Creepy Sister everyone forgot to tell him about living up there.

She is silent, and watchful, sticking to the shadows, but she does leave the occasional note out to brighten her siblings’ day. 

Things like ‘helo i love u’ and ‘hop u ar ok’  mostly. 

She is bound and determined to protect her family from this invisible threat, no matter the cost. 

Steph - 

Like Dick, she was Super Pumped at first. 

(Just kind of showed up at Wayne Manor before quarantine was enacted. The original purpose of her visit is unclear, but regardless, she’s Trapped.)

Also Like Dick, her descent into madness was swift.

She is impossible to pin down. 

Not like Cass or Damian, who’ve stayed off the grid, and are therefore Untraceable. 

No. She’s impossible to pin down, because she never stops moving. 

Switches seamlessly between Zumba on top of the Giant Dinosaur in the Batcave, and furiously knitting Alfred (the Cat) a sweater with a pair of Tim’s used chopsticks. 

Braided everyone’s hair while they were asleep.

Even Bruce’s. 

She tried to do Tim’s, but somehow blacked out and regained consciousness in the attic. 

When she woke up with a scream and a furiously twitching eye, she startled Duke out of his Makeshift Fort he built out of old cardboard boxes and antique furniture. He’s had to resort to finding a new hiding place. 

Sometimes, on the rare occasions she does sit still, staring off into the distance, she’ll suddenly start laughing hysterically. This may last between thirty seconds and thirty minutes, depending entirely on how long it’s been since she’s knitted a cat sweater or done cartwheels through every room in the house.

Blew up the greenhouse out back, somehow.

Everyone has agreed not to talk about it.

Some people were built to handle prolonged time inside their homes.

Stephanie Brown is not that way.

Damian - 

Damian Wayne Cannot Be Contained.

At least not inside the house. 

He took off thirty-six hours into quarantine. 

Thanks to the security equipment around the borders of the Wayne Estate, he can’t escape the grounds. 

(He’s tried and failed multiple times. Jason and Bruce have a running bet on how many times the perimeter alarms will go off per day.)

(Jason is winning.)

He wanders the grounds with Titus as his only companion. 

The two of them run laps, practice drills, and find ways to occupy their time. 

No one’s entirely sure what those ways are. 

In fact, nobody knows exactly where Damian is at any given time. 

Only that he is Out There. 

And he’s the best security system Wayne Manor’s ever had. 

So far, he’s stopped five groups of civilians scaling the perimeter walls before the lasers and electric nets even have a chance to deploy.

They were trying to break in and steal supplies. 

(Even ones they already had in surplus. Like Toilet Paper.)

He’s also stopped Dick from escaping twelve (12) times.

Drags him back by his shirt collar and deposits him on the welcome mat. 

Usually with a note for Alfred/Jason, requesting more fruit tarts. 

Duke - 

Did not leave the attic for two weeks. 

Then Steph discovered his hiding spot (read: was dumped there by Cassandra) which forced him to relocate to the basement. 

Yes, it turns out Wayne Manor does have a basement. 

This was a surprise to Duke, who always thought that the Batcave was Bruce Wayne’s basement. 

Alfred keeps him supplied with all the necessities:

i.e. food, magazines, assorted pastries from Jason’s latest batch, usually straight out of the oven.

Duke also snagged the Manor’s Alexa. 

She has become a sort of ‘Wilson’ to Duke’s ‘Chuck Noland’.

She is his only comfort. His only ally. 

He’s determined to wait out this quarantine, doing his best to avoid the others. 

Duke has seen these people under pressure. 

He knows exactly what he’s dealing with. 

Duke: “Alexa is the only motherf****r in this madhouse I ever respected.”

*offended butler noises from the other room*

Duke: “And also Alfred.”

[rekrappeter]

looking at the moon, but seeing you

pairing: draco malfoy x fem!reader

summary: you find yourself drawn to draco malfoy, an october evening welcoming something you never expected

warnings: mention of feeling numb, swearing, typos

notes: please let me know what you think of this, feedback would be amazing thank you - if there’s an inaccuracy of the wizarding world in this, please don’t let me know, I’m not interested <333

I had originally started writing this for @bricksatanakinswindow​ ‘s wc and had a prompt in mind, but then I went on a tangent and finished it forgetting to use the prompt oops but anyways, I hope y’all enjoy it either way <3

It was your favorite time of the year. Orange and brown leaves scattered the grass, the sound of them crunching when students trampled over them to get to class, and it was always dark before the final class ended. The ghosts seemed to be more present during mealtimes and the flickering of the crimson fires above the four tables created shadows around the dining hall. There was an eerie, yet wholesome atmosphere that Hogwarts welcomed during the month of October. But the thing you loved most about October in Hogwarts was the Annual Halloween Feast. 

You were staring wide-eyed at the mounts of food that appeared in front of you, your mouth watering at the sight of the freshly trimmed turkey and the pumpkin pies that were making your stomach grumble with hunger. It took everything in your power to not reach out for your first servings, knowing that everyone was waiting for Professor Dumbledore to finish up his annual Halloween speech. The moment he gave you permission to start eating, your hands reached out for the first bowl of vegetables closest to you. 

“Calm down there,” Ron chuckled, his red hair brushing across his forehead, “It won’t disappear right away.” 

“You’re one to talk,” you snapped back, a playful smirk tugging on your lips as you eyed his plate already half-filled with chicken wings and mash potatoes. 

Ron scoffed, his cheeks turning red, “Quidditch practice makes me hungry.” You rolled your eyes as the boy rambled on, trying to plead his case but as you looked over his shoulder towards the Slytherin table, his voice was just a mere whisper amongst the eyes staring back at you. Cold, dull blue eyes were on your figure from across the room, his porcelain face rested in the palm of his hands and his pink lips were a spark contrast from his snow-white hair. 

“Is Draco Malfoy staring at me?” you whispered softly to Hermione, ignoring the confused glances from the red head boy that thought he was having a conversation with you. Hermione peaked over Ron’s shoulder strategically, pretending to scratch her nose in the process. The creasing of her fluffy brows confirmed your suspicions and you both stare at Draco, it wasn’t until the taller boy beside him, Blaise, nudged his shoulder with his that Draco was pulled out of what seemed to be a daydream. His eyes widened for a second, his tongue darting from his mouth to wet his lips as he raised a brow in your direction. 

‘What?’ you mouthed to him, and he shot you an annoyed, almost hateful, glare your way before tearing his gaze from you. A scoff passed your lips, it was so typical of Draco to make it seem like it was your fault that he was staring at you. “That was weird,” you murmured, shrugging your shoulders and the grumble of your stomach remembered that you had forgot to feed it all day. 

When the Feast had come to an end, the magically thundering and lightening lit up the Great Hall causing students to erupt into discussions of thrill and excitement. The tables disappeared from underneath you, as the room transforming into it’s annual Halloween afterparty. Pumpkins that Hagrid grew himself were huddled in the corners, big enough to fit three full adult males in them, and orange and black streamers were dangling from the ceiling. The table that the teachers occupied was gone and replaced with a stage, instruments scattered around on top and you could spot a skeleton tuning a guitar. 

A grin was unfaltering on your face, the excitement bubbling inside you. You glanced at Hermione, seeing her face in complete awe at the sight in front of her and you hated the fact that your eyes found themselves travelling across the room to the platinum blonde. Despite his foul demeanor throughout the entirety of the feast, an amused smile was rested on his lips as he watched the band of skeletons take the stage. As the music started, people began shuffling onto the makeshift dancefloor, still draped in their house robes. Your stare constantly kept finding it’s way to Draco, and no matter how much you scolded yourself, you couldn’t get him out of your mind. 

This started towards the end of last year, these growing unwanted feelings that you held for the Slytherin Prince. The summer break couldn’t have come quick enough, Hogwarts was a big place but you kept finding yourself bumping into him or walking in the same empty corridors as he did. Throughout the summer, you hadn’t thought about him once - you labeled it as a stupid crush, the inevitability of falling for the ‘bad boy’ of your year. Of course, he had ladies falling all over him, but you’d never seen him with anyone other than Pansy Parkinson and even at that, you weren’t sure if they were exclusive. You tried not to dwell on it much, the thought of the two doing things together in the dungeons brought a wave of nausea each time. You thought the feelings that developed were gone, but the moment he walked onto the platform at Kings Cross, time stopped and it was just him there amongst the bustle of people bidding goodbye to their families. You scolded yourself the whole train ride, feeling yourself falling into daydreams and fantasies of what could be. But you were a Gryffindor, and he was a Slytherin. It wouldn’t work. 

“You’re staring this time,” Hermione smirked, an amused glint in her eyes. She twirled you around so that your back was to Draco, and you silently thanked her. You had confided in Hermione about your little crush on Draco, hoping she’d be able to smack some sense into you and help you remember all the cruel things he’s said to you in the past but the thing was… you remembered all those things, you repeated them in your head but it still wasn’t enough to stop you from wondering where he was and letting your eyes linger after him. 

The night was drawing to an end, a night filled with endless laughter and dancing. You were on your way to the common room, arm linked with Harry as he swayed with you, drunk on happiness. Passing the courtyards, somehow your eyes spied a figure making it’s way to the black lake, and if it wasn’t for the hair that gleamed under the moonlight, you wouldn’t have given it a second thought. But you detangled yourself from Harry, him giving you a puzzled look. “I-I think I forgot my bookbag by the lake earlier.” 

“Do you want me to go down and look for it with you?” Harry asked, his hair tousled and sweat beading on his forehead from the amount of dancing he was forced to do. 

“No, I’ll only be a second,” you said, stepping backwards onto the grass, “I’ll follow you up.” Harry was hesitant to leave you behind, Ron calling his name from inside the castle but he nodded reluctantly. Hogwarts was after all the safest place you could be. You scurried down towards the bed of water, your eyes adjusting to the darkness until you spotted his figure sitting underneath a tree that was naked of leaves. 

“Following me, y/l/n?” you could hear the ennui in his voice, and it made you halt your steps. Maybe it was the glee from the October evening that led you to follow him, or maybe it was the dissatisfaction of not knowing how it felt to feel his lips on yours that made you come down here. Pursing your own lips, you took a step back hearing the crinkle of leaves under your foot as you twirled to march back up the hill you practically ran down. Draco sighed, “you can stay.” 

You were thankful that it was dark outside, the grin on your face practically glistening at his words. You sat crossed legged in front of him, feeling the October chill kiss your cheeks as his eyes gazed at the stars above you. While his eyes were lost in the nature that surrounded you, your eyes were on his face, taking in every fraction of it up close. How the eleven year old boy with an innocent smirk you met a number of years ago had morphed into the exhausted looking seventeen year man sitting in front of you. His pale face was separated with dark circles hoovering beneath his eyes, his pink lips were chapped and the speck of blood on his bottom lip indicated that he must have been nibbling on them recently. 

When the oddly comfortable silence became too much for you, your fingers digging into the grass underneath you, you breathed out a sigh gaining his attention. It was as if he forgot you were there. “Did you have fun tonight?” you asked. 

Draco scoffed, his eyes rolling, “I hate Halloween.” 

“How can you hate Halloween?” you questioned, your jaw dropping, “It’s practically a holiday dedicated to us!” 

“It’s a holiday dedicated to pretending to be someone you’re not, how incredible,” Draco drowned sarcastically. 

“Have you never wanted to be someone that wasn’t you?” Draco was stunned at your question, and he so eagerly wanted to scoff and question why would he want to be anyone else, but when he caught sight of your curious eyes, he became speechless. He stared at you like he did in the Great Hall previously, but instead of the lifeless stare that you were accustomed to at this point, his eyes were filled with sorrow and sadness. Of course he wanted to be someone else, the more he thought about it, he’d began to accept the fact that he wanted to be anyone but him. At the mere age of seventeen, he had so much responsibility resting on his shoulders, missions and tasks that he wasn’t allowed to speak to anyone about. He felt as if he was drowning. 

“Draco..” you breathed out, your breath fogging underneath the moonlight. Draco barely heard your face, he only came back to reality when he felt your soft, warm hand rest on his cheek and he jumped back in fright. “Hey, it’s just me..” you whispered, wiping the stray tears that were leaking from his eyes without him realising. 

Draco scrambled away from you on the grass, and you let your hand drop from his face. The spot you touched tingled as he stood up from the ground, fixing his robe that was draping off his shoulders. “W-why are you here?” he spat at you, his eyes twitching. 

You remained on the grass, looking up at his worried expression. You wanted to have an explanation as to why you were suddenly drawn to him, but you didn’t even know. “I-I don’t know, Draco.” 

Draco. Draco. Draco. His name that barely passed his ears lately felt like butterflies and fireworks falling from your lips. All he heard these days were Malfoy, no one addressed him as Draco anymore and he didn’t realise how much he needed to hear it, it grounded him. “Say my name again,” he mumbled, barely audible but from the raise of your brow, he knew you heard him. 

You stood up from the grass, taking a hesitant step towards him and you waited for him to jump away from you but he didn’t. You closed the gap between your bodies, his breathing racing as he watched every move you made. Lifting your hand to his face again, he let himself relax underneath your touch and his eyes fluttered closed. “Draco,” you said softly, the twitching of the corner of his lips motivating your next move. His stature was slightly taller than you, making you put all your weight on your toes as your lips touched his cheek, “Draco,” you repeated, your lips moving down to his jaw, “Draco..” 

You gasped as his hand suddenly gripped the wrist of your hand resting on his cheek. He opened his eyes, a confused look swirling beneath the blue but you never got the chance to see beyond the confusion before his lips crashed against yours in a breathtaking kiss. You stumbled back at the impact, but he wrapped his arms around your waist to steady you. Your lips moved in sync, the kiss rapid and intrusive. He pushed your body up against the large tree trunk, your head hitting the bark and your breath hitching in your throat. “D-Draco,” you stuttered against his lips, trying to push him off you to catch your breath, “What are you doing?” 

“I… I just wanted to feel something,” Draco mumbled, almost feeling guilty for kissing you and his eyes casted downwards. He tried to step away from you but you clasped your fingers around his wrist and stopped him. He glanced up at you, the swollen lips a reminder of seconds before. 

“How did it feel?” you asked, a smile twitching at the corner of your lips. 

The overly confident and obnoxious man that you once knew was nowhere to be found, seemingly lost in the October breeze. When Draco resulted in silence as his answer, you closed the gap again and connected your lips in the second kiss of the evening. This one was more delicate and you could tell he wasn’t expecting it, it took him a moment to kiss you back. Your hands slipped into his, your fingers intertwining as you lost yourself in his touch. He broke the kiss, his head nuzzling into the crook of your neck as he breathed in your scent, “It feels like a new life,” he finally answered, his heart hammering against his chest, “but please answer this, will you forget about it in the morning?” 

“Never.”

[onceupona-chaos]

The Moon Goddess

Azriel helps Elain to find her place in the Night Court. One-shot.

NOTE: I suck at doing summaries, but I have fun writing this one-shot here. I used a beautiful legend from my country to write this and I hope you enjoy!!! And as usual, forgive me for any mistakes, English is not my first language. Be kind! 💙

"How far is this place?"

They have been walking for what felt like hours now, the only light illuminating the tricky path that snaked between huge trees came from the full moon above them.

Even with her Fae vision, Elain couldn't see five feet ahead and there was absolutely no indication of where they were going. Azriel didn't offer details either.

Elain had tried her best that night to appear her usual self in the family monthly dinner at the lake house.

She'd tried to push those words aside, tried to forget them. That was all she could do: try, try, try.

But they kept coming back as if someone out there were whispering them in her ear, branding them into her brain.

She'd been working on Arya's garden, when the elderly fairy came to talk. Elain didn't mind the company at all, but she couldn't help the blow when Arya had said as a matter of fact that Elain wasn't the type who usually fitted in the Night Court.

Elain didn't know what exactly those words were supposed to mean or why she kept thinking about them, but it wasn't the first time someone told her that. Yes, she had family, friends and yet… would that be the reason she felt so empty sometimes? So lost in her own head?

She had been able to act normal at dinner despite those miserable thoughts swirling in her head as if they were mist. Or so she thought.

A glance at the other side of the table had revealed worried hazel eyes filled with sorrow glued on her. Elain had looked away quickly, feeling her cheeks heat.

After dinner, Elain was checking on dessert, when Azriel had entered the kitchen. It didn't take long for her to confess what was in her heart.

Things were still unsure and volatile between them, as if they were flame a second away to turn into a fire. Elain tried not to think about what would take to set them alight.

She knew why he kept his distance, why he was staying up at the House of Wind with Nesta and Cassian.

But she missed him. Their conversations until the latest hours in front of the fireplace, the sunny afternoons in comfortable silence, when she'd work on the garden whilst he sat close in one of the tables, going through some paperwork. Pure understanding would shone between them in those moments. Gods, she missed him. His calm, quiet presence always made her worries fade away as if they were nothing but a distant wind.

Azriel had listened to every word, his eyes opened, his expression soft. When she had finished, he merely said to meet him in the garden after the house went to sleep - and with that, he strode out back to the dinner room.

After all the lights has been out, Elain went to find him, subtle and unnoticed. Azriel was already wating for her in the garden.

He smiled at her before take her hand - and they were gone into shadow.

More than an hour after he had winnowed them in the middle of it seemed like a forest and began waking instead of flying, Elain was tempted to throw something at his head. Most likely her shoe.

It only got worse when he chuckled at her question. "Almost there."

"Where is there?"

At that, he turned to look at her, amusement sparkling in his eyes, shadows dancing over his shoulders. But he repeated, "Almost there."

Elain had a perfect plan in her head on how she would throw him in the Sidra when he stopped so abruptly that she almost bumped against his back. Azriel must have noticed if his smirk was any indication.

But he merely stepped aside, allowing her to see what she hadn't noticed before.

There, in the very heart of the forest, there was a serene lake, its water so clear and peaceful that Elain could see the bottom.

Floating on the water were hundreds of white flower buds. The full moon cascaded a silver glow, making them shine so bright as the stars.

A perfect mirror of the night sky above.

Azriel took a place by the shore and sat, his cobalt Shiphons gleaming on top of his hands.

For some reason, that place irradiated peace. Elain's heart was suddenly so light, her breathing so easy that she closed her eyes, letting that sereny in.

A moment later she sat beside him, his wings stretching behind her. He looked so… relax. Peaceful. Even his shadows were gone as if the calm magic of the lake had put them to sleep.

"Those are water flowers. There's a legend that explains their origin." It took a moment for Elain to process his words, too busy staring at him. She blushed a little, but couldn't take her eyes off of him. There, sitting at the shore of the lake by her side, with nothing but the moonlight allowing them to see each other, those hazel eyes shone, the hues of green as bright as the rarest emerald.

Elain only realized she didn't answer when he spoke again, his eyes never leaving hers. "There was this young female... Naia. She was known for her beauty and attracted the attention of males and females whatever she went, and after one look at her direction, some of them promised to make her the richest Fae alive. Others went to the deepest of Prythian to fight our most evil creatures and bring her their heads as proof of their worth.

"But she ignored them all.

"You see… Naia decided to devote all her love to the Moon. Back then, there were these legends - stories - where the Moon was the warrior-goddess Jaci, the Night Guardian."

As the words left his mouth, Elain felt a chill run down her spine as if somewhere Jaci's eyes were watching over them.

"Jaci had a… liking on young females and sometimes, when one of them captured her attention, she would turn them into a star. So they would dance for all eternity with the goddess in the skies.

"Naia had been in love with the Moon for all her life and dreamed of the day she would be chosen. Night after night, she waited for the Moon. When it appeared, she spent the whole night contemplating... and whispering her stories to the skies. She wanted the goddess to fall in love with who she was, and not for her beauty alone."

The way Azriel looked at her now, eyes soft… as if he could see her soul… Elain had to remind herself how to breathe.

He took a deep breath before went on, "But Naia was getting weaker. You see, she didn't want to eat or drink or sleep. All she wanted was to wait for Jaci's call.

"One night she was waiting for the Moon to emerge, sitting by a lake, when she noticed it appeared much closer. She thought it was finally her call, so Naia didn't think twice before throwing herself into Jaci's arms.

"But it wasn't Jaci. It was only the reflection of the Moon in the water. So Naia who was already weak due to her restless wait ended up drowning in the river."

He ran a hand through his hair. "It wasn't the goddess call... but Jaci had noticed the female. Naia didn't know, but Jaci could only turn a female into a star once every thirty-three years."

Elain didn't know why, but her eyes burned. Azriel only reached to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear.

"Jaci had heard every whisper, every word from Naia. She had fallen in love with her, but the goddess' hands were tied. And since Jaci hadn't called for Naia, she couldn't turn her into a star in the skies.

"Unable to let Naia die in vain, to never have a dance with the female she loved… Jaci turned Naia into the most beautiful flower and shaped it as a star - a water flower. That way during the night, Naia could finally dance with the Moon in the waters when it was reflected - even if it was only once a month."

He smiled faintly. "That's how the legends say the goddess of the Moon created the Water Stars, whose full splendor can only be seen… " He trailed off as his hand cupped Elain's face, a scarred thumb brushing away her tears. Then, his hand dropped to her chin and he gently turned her head to the lake.

"... at night."

Elain sucked in a breath in pure awe. It was like watching time pass in full speed, as if spring had come in a blink of an eye. When the reflection of the Moon was perfectly upon the lake's center, Time itself couldn't reach them anymore: the delicate white flower buds floating on the water were still at first. Suddenly they all began to tremble as if they had been awoken. And then, they bursted open, revealing glowing petals that seemed to be made of the purest diamond under the moonlight, hundreds of star-shaped flowers covering the lake as they bloomed.

And one by one, they bloomed. One by one, they glowed.

Azriel kept silent as Elain admire the scene before her eyes. She had never seen anything more beautiful, had never felt her heart so full of wonder.

Tears began to roll down her cheeks once again, each one of them a drop of pure extasy and peace. She didn't know for how long they watched the flowers, breathing their sweet scent, but Azriel spoke first, "I'm not familiar with the different types of flowers, but... these are the most beautiful in Prythian." Azriel's voice was a whisper in the night. "And yet, their lovely, true beauty is in the inside. And you can only see it at night. Here."

Elain looked away from the flowers - to find Azriel's eyes already on her, shining brighter than the moon above them now. Her heart jumped in her chest at the raw intensity there.

"Only you can choose where you belong, Elain. Only you."

Right there, she knew. It wasn't just a legend or a story. It was a gift - for her and only her. She blinked away the tears and whispered, "Thank you, Azriel".

The smile that bloomed on his face was even lovelier than the flowers' spectacle she'd just seen.

They sit there for a while, watching each other, with only a calm understanding between them. It was always like that with him.

After seconds or minutes or hours, Elain reached to untied the laces on her shoes.

"What -" Azriel cleared his throat, his brows furrowing. "What are you doing?"

Elain stood barefoot, the cold grass tickled against her skin. She smiled down at him, "Dancing with a goddess." She extended a hand. "Come with me?"

Azriel studied her for a heartbeat, gaping a little at her as if he didn't quite believe what she was asking. Then, he threw back his head and laughed. Not in a sarcastic, mocking way. But out of pure joy like a child seeing the first snowflakes falling from the sky.

Azriel stood, took off his boots and, a second later, his shirt, his tattooed golden-brown skin entirely visible under the moonlight. Elain's heart raced and her cheeks and chest burned a bit.

But even with the hard, sculpted muscles, the powerful wings peeking over his shoulders… It was because of his eyes Elain could hardly breathe. They blazed like stars, fiercely and lovely, as he took her still extending hand.

Azriel remained close to her, so close Elain didn't even acknowledge the cold water soaking her dress, making the fabric hanging tight to her body. Not with the heat of his body next to hers.

They swimmed and swimmed, Elain observing the the water flowers. And Azriel watching her. She could have swear his eyes were darker than before.

Until she couldn't take it anymore. His eyes on her, her skin cold from the water, but on fire from his gaze. She looked at him. "Come closer." Her voice was sure, steady.

Azriel went still, but a heartbeat later he was facing her, close enough to share breath, his skin gleaming with drops of water running down his broad chest.

Without knowing what to do, Elain began tracing his tattoos, feeling him shiver under her fingerprints.

One of his hands found her arm, the other went to stroke her neck, sending a lightning of heat through her body.

She didn't say a word. Neither did he. They were beyond any words of any language.

So they just touched each other, his hands on her, her hands on him, until their mouths collided and light exploded behind her eyelids.

That night, they danced between and under the stars, with only their moans and whispers as music.

[philliamwrites]

The Dawn Will Come [Chpt.2]

Fandom: Fire Emblem Three Houses

Pairing: Dimitri x Reader, Claude x Reader, Edelgard x Reader, Yuri x Reader, Edelgard x Byleth, lots of minor pairings

Tags: #gn reader, # platonic love byleth & reader, #reader is a tactical unit, #angst, #slow burn, #subplots, #unreliable narrator, #pining, #remporary amnesia, #reluctant herp, #canon divergence, #lost twin au, #many chapters, #original content

Words: 6.7k

Summary: Waking up in a forest without any knowledge of your past and who you are, you join the house leaders of the Officers Academy to search for a way to return your memories. Unfortunately, the church has different plans for you, and Fate places you in the centre of a cruel game with deadly stakes. It certainly doesn’t help to fall in love with a house leader who is doomed to be your demise.

Notes: Chapter 1 | Chapter 3

Chapter 02: The Herald of Dawn

Hold me, O Night, with motherly affection, While the wan earth wakes with a misty yawn. By my blood will be born the Dawn and from my fleeting dream—the undying sun!

[Gabriele D’Annunzio]

    Hushed whispers wake you from the dark. The crackling of fire sweeps away the last remains of weary unconsciousness, and you blink at a tent's ceiling. Someone draped heavy blankets over you, and with every breath you exhale, puffy white clouds rise up. The shadows of a fire dance across the walls, their blurry movements flush another wave of dizziness over you, and as you sit up, you notice a tight feeling around your head. When you raise a hand to your forehead, there is a bandage sitting tightly wrapped around your head, covering your right eye. The pain has finally stopped, but it still feels dully raw, like an injury that hasn’t healed properly and serves now as a reminder of anguish.

    The memories from the battle rush back to you, the sound of metal hitting metal and heavy bodies dropping to the ground echo in your mind. Death was nothing new to the soldiers and mercenaries, so how come you don’t feel particularly sorry for the fallen? You’re no soldier, at least that’s what every fibre of your body tells you, so normalising killing isn’t right. You rebuild your surety of that, one shaky brick at a time.

    Once on your feet, you make your way outside, drawn in by the smell of cooked meat and quiet chatter. The sight of a small camp greets you: more tents build a row on this side of the camp, and in the centre, solders sit around a small fire, their voices barely audible. They lean over a steaming kettle, their weapons at their feet or beside tree trunks—laid down for the night but still within reach.

    “Heey, you’re finally back with us!” Claude’s voice rings through the camp, and several heads turn in your direction. As he waves for you to join him, you duck your head and move quickly to his side, wishing you could just merge with the ground and disappear from everyone’s attention. “Little one, you got us worried there,” he says. On his knees, he’s balancing a steaming wooden bowl, and the sight and smell reminds you how hungry you are. Your stomach agrees by providing a low growl.

    “How long have I been out?” You barely recognise your own voice, the sound rough from exhaustion. Claude hums in thought and gestures with one hand to a soldier to bring you food, while his other pats the ground beside him for you to sit down. “We managed to march a couple of hours after cleaning up the mess from the battle. Right now we’re near the edge of the forest. There should be only one more day of marching until we reach the monastery.”

    “And you guys are sure they can help me up there?” you wonder, watching the first group of soldiers get ready for the night watch. They’re frighteningly young, jostling and bumping into each other, laughing and stamping their feet against the cold snap that still lingers, the last gasp of winter before spring begins in earnest.

    “If not there, I’m not sure there’s anyone out there who can help you.”

    You glare at Claude. “Surely you must be the voice of confidence in this merry bunch, right?”

    He laughs. “I’m the closest you’ll get to an optimist around here.”

    “That’s reassuring.”

    “Reassuring is my second name.”

    “No, you said it’s von,” you mumble. Claude stares at you for a long minute, then bursts out laughing, the sound dark and rich. “No, that’s a noble prefix. You don’t even remember that?”

    You open your mouth, and close it like a fish, feeling your cheeks raise in temperature. He shouldn’t make you feel guilty for forgetting something like that, and yet the shame settles in your bones and you want to smack your head against something to help your brain remember.

    “Ah, but pardon my rudeness,” Claude purrs and gives you a mock bow. “I can tell you everything you want to know about nobility and how overrated it is. In fact, I might as well convince you to join the Alliance before Their Highnesses steal you to their side.”

    “I’m not going to be on anyone’s side,” you mumble, and steal Claude’s blanket as payback, relishing in his offended expression. “It has nothing to do with me.”

    Claude raises an eyebrow. “Ehh, I’m not so sure it’s that easy.”

    “It is,” you insist, unable to hide the sulk from your voice. “Because I say so.”

    Claude raises both eyebrows. “That’s not how it works.”

    “Watch me.”

    Something like a shadow flashes across his emerald eyes, but it disappears quickly enough for you to think it’s only the light from the campfire playing a trick on you. “We’ll see about that.” He scrapes the remaining contents from his bowl and lets out a satisfying yawn when he’s finished, stretching his long limbs like a cat getting comfortable. “Sooo,” he starts, unnecessarily dragging out the vowel and the sound of it locks up your shoulders into one tense muscle in preparation of what he’s going to say next. “Care to explain what happened back there?”

    You take a deep breath. “You mean when it felt like my eye was going to fall out of its socket?”

    “Actually I meant when you tripped over that one root after we found you.” He gives you a crooked grin. “But that’s interesting too, please go on.”

    “I thought no one saw that,” you mumble, and avoid his gaze as you remember that stupid root that nearly broke your neck. Well, Claude surely knows a thing or two about tricking someone into talking about exactly what he wants to hear.

    You thank the mercenary that brings you food, and notice it’s the one from the battle with the crooked nose. He gives you a just as crooked grin and limps back to his comrades. The stew warms your chilled bones, the rich flavour of meat and vegetables lifting your spirits and filling you with energy. As you eat, you drag out the minutes but Claude doesn’t even squirm as you let him wait, and starts whistling an off-key tune until you start to feel uncomfortable.

    “Well, if I knew, I wouldn’t be afraid that it might happen again,” you admit begrudgingly. “Because that was scary.”

    “Yeah, it didn’t really look like fun,” Claude agrees. “But what was it in the first place?”

    “I don’t know.” You start to become weary of those words. “But it hurt.”

    Claude gives you a sympathetic look, and goes silent, allowing you to eat, but you can’t shake off the feeling his mind is still trying to figure out what’s the deal with you. He can, for all you care. And once he’s done, he can write a report and hand it right to you so you’ll understand as well.

    Out of the corner of your eye you notice someone moving towards you. Dimitri approaches you with caution like you’re a small animal he might scare off with hasty movements. But the look he gives Claude is that of a disappointed father, and he shakes his head once he’s standing in front of him. “Claude, we were supposed to not disturb our guest,” Dimitri says sternly, then bows his head in your direction. “Apologies. We should let you rest.”

    “No, it’s okay,” you admit, and shuffle a little to the side to make room. “Please stay.”

    Both boys exchange a quick look, but then Dimitri sits down, minding a polite distance unlike Claude who only needs to stretch his legs for his feet touch your knee.

    “We were worried,” Dimitri starts. Just like Claude, he’s taken off most of his armour, and nothing about him stands out as a member of the royalty. He looks just like any other boy, and you’d never admit it out loud, but you already miss the blue tones on his uniform, the colour making his remarkably ice-blue eye stand out even more. “Luckily we could dispose of all bandits and return to a safe area. Byleth carried you here all by herself.”

    “Yeah, remind me not get on her bad side, okay?” Claude laughs, but you think you hear a slight nervous tremble in his voice. “She looks like she can decapitate me with a butter knife.”

    “She doesn’t look like it. She very certainly will behead you with a butter knife,” Dimitri provides with a pleasant smile as if he’s talking about the weather.

    “See, and that’s why she fits best in the Alliance,” Claude says, winking at you. “We’re always full of surprises.”

    Dimitri rolls his eyes and crosses his arms in front of his broad chest. “You might try it. I personally plan to convince her to join the Kingdom.”

    “I think you’re both too late for that,” you say as you look to the other side of the camp where Byleth and Edelgard are currently engaged in a deep conversation, their heads leaning close to each other. Claude groans miserably, but quickly recovers as he turns to you, his eyes brightening up with excitement. “It’s okay, because once my disarming charm has wrapped you around my little finger, I’ll have an impressive tactician on my side.”

    You almost choke on your next spoon of stew. “Tactician? I wouldn’t go that far.”

    Beside you, Dimitri clears his throat. “Though I have to question Claude’s way of persuasion, I must admit he isn’t wrong about the latter. What you did back there was impressive.”

    “I really didn’t do anything special,” you mumble at the same time Claude raises both hands leisurely and says, “Hey, it’s not my problem you think you’re immune to it, Your Princeliness.”

    Dimitri grumbles something in a foreign language under his breath. Grinning smugly, Claude turns to you, and nudges your side. “Have confidence, little one. They’ll teach you everything you need to know up there.” He points up towards a mountain where you’ll apparently be heading tomorrow. If you squint, you think you can make out lights in the horizon brightening the night sky.

    “That monastery,” you say, trying to ignore how Claude’s body radiates heat. “What exactly is that place? I’ve never heard of a monastery that holds a school. I think,” you quickly add, unsure what thoughts provided by your hazy mind are facts.

    “The Officers Academy is a facility where students learn the arts of warfare, magic, and leadership,” Dimitri explains. He’s very obviously trying not to look at Claude, which in return has Claude’s grin widening even more. “The lessons provide us with everything we need as upcoming heads of our families. Swordsmanship, sorcery, authority, the history of our continent. There is much to learn for everyone attending the classes.”

    “So it’s a death factory,” you translate, the sudden bitter taste in your mouth overshadowing the taste of the stew. “How can they just teach that stuff like it’s normal?”

    “You saw it yourself, didn’t you.” Claude stretches his long limbs and leans back until he props his body up on his elbows. “Bandits and thieves everywhere.”

    “And most students come from a noble house,” Dimitri adds. “They need to be taught how to take command, and about the responsibilities coming with leadership.”

    You blow a strand of hair away from your face, mood dropped now that you know where you’ll be from tomorrow on. “This doesn’t sound right.” Though you can’t really say how a school is supposed to be instead. This is a world with different rules, and you aren’t sure if it’ll be easy to accommodate to them.

    While the boys bicker how good the plot of the tale mentioned earlier really is, you see Byleth approaching. A bruise is forming on her left cheek, and she holds her arm as if bearing the pain from a wound. But nothing of that is portrayed on her face, as if her brain hasn’t registered she’s wounded yet and hence doesn’t need to express it.

    “How are you?” she asks, sending the boys a quick look. Dimitri and Claude climb to their feet and wish their good nights with a quick bow. They hurry to Edelgard and gang up on heir, probably interrogating her about the conversation she's had with Byleth.

    “I’m better,” you say, a little surprised you actually mean it. You feel refreshed and nourished, ready for another day of walking. Byleth sits down and watches the camp for a moment in silence. The chaos from before has settled into a quiet hum. Men and women sit together in little circles and tell their glorious battle stories with boisterous laughter, selling the illusion of a victorious life. But that might easily end the next day because of a hasty recklessness. No one thinks of that. Everyone is just celebrating, reaching for flasks and living in the moment. It’s a beautiful sight.

    As the buzzing sound of people chatting subsides and the first turn in for the night, Byleth turns towards you, her voice lowered. “What you did back there,” she starts, and for whatever reason remains silent as if she decided talking about it isn’t a good idea. Shadows from the weakened fire dance across her face, and again you’re flooded with the unfathomable feeling of familiarity. It’s in the sharp lines of her face, the way her eyes move and settle on something as she observes her surroundings. It’s almost a painful sense of nostalgia. Something about this woman just brings you an unusual amount of ease, like it doesn’t really matter who you are, and rather that you’re here that makes the difference.

    Before you can stop your brain, you’re already asking, “Do we know each other by chance?”

    Byleth looks at you for a long minute, then slowly shakes her head, and you try not to show your disappointment too much. “I’ve travelled a lot with my father,” she says. “We’ve come through many lands and villages. You may have seen me at some point, but we’ve never exchanged a word until yesterday.”

    You nod at the plausible explanation, but the feeling that this isn’t the right answer curls like a hook into your heart. “And your father hasn’t said anything about me as well?”

    “No.” Byleth’s eyes follow your hands as they set down the empty bowl. Seeing that you’ve finished everything, she nods in approval. “And he doesn’t forget a face.”

    “How do you all just … trust me,” you wonder, looking to where Jeralt is miserably leaning against a tree trunk as Alois keeps talking and talking. He looks like he wishes someone would take him down with an arrow.

    “He doesn’t,” Byleth says. “And he calls me a little whippersnapper for that. He hasn’t called me that in the five years.” At the sound of the smile in her voice you snap your head in Byleth’s direction, but when you look, she wears the same bland expression like before.

    “But you do,” you start carefully, not trusting your ears again, so you settle on staring at her until she gives another emotion. “Care to explain why?”

    “For now, you haven’t given me any reason not to,” she states as if it really were that simple. It couldn’t be. Up until now Byleth has been your only anchor that your meeting wasn’t purely coincidental—that the reason shrouding your memories would dissipate like the night once dawn breaks if you just stick to her side, and everything will be revealed in time. But now without anything to hold on to, you feel like you’re slipping deeper and deeper into an abyss from which you can’t ascend. This feeling is terror fizzing in your blood like poison, and you shudder at the thought that you’ll forever remain adrift.

    “Your powers,” Byleth continues, unaware of your mental breakdown right next to her. “They’re unusual, and if you learn to use them right, very dangerous.” Spoken by everyone else, this might sound like a threat, but Byleth says it like a simple statement, a fact, unaware how much she tilts your world with it. “What do you plan to do with them?”

    You don’t have to think long about it. “I won’t do anything. Whatever it was, it’s over,” you say and gesture at your bandaged eye. It’s true. Since you woke up, your eye has remained calm, no red veil or eery proclamation someone might step into the campfire and burn alive. The pounding has stopped, and the normalcy of it is like a soothing balm.

    Byleth studies you. You really wish she could give you more than her vacant expression. “You don’t know yet … your eye.” She takes your spoon and with the end of it, she draws a symbol on the ground. “Do you know what that is?”

    You look at it, but nothing comes to your mind. It’s just a four pointed star with two lines crossing the right and left tips. “No, I’ve never seen it.”

    Byleth holds your gaze as if she hopes to find a lie written between your eyes, and this time you don’t look away until she relents with a barely audible sigh.

    “Why do you ask?”

    “Because before you passed out, it appeared here.” She taps a finger against her closed, right eye, then points at you. Your body goes rigid. Immediately, your hands fly up to tear off the bandage, but Byleth catches your wrists and holds them down. “Not yet.”

    “I want to see it.” Your breath catches in your lungs. It sounds like you need air because you’re drowning. “I want it off. Take it off!”

    “I can’t show you, there are no mirrors,” Byleth says quietly, and throws a quick glance around the camp to see if your panic has alarmed anyone. You want to point out that you could use the reflection of her sword, but maybe Byleth has considered the same and thought it a bad idea, because she doesn’t know what else you might do with a weapon in your current state. Seeing that fighting against the vice grip she has on your hands is futile, you slump down, your arms falling slack back to your side. “Just what… what is happening. What is that?”

    “Edelgard said it might be a Crest, but none she or the others have seen before,” Byleth explains. “They told me there is a teacher at the monastery who studies Crests.” She gives your arms a barely noticeable squeeze before she lets go. “So it’s going to be okay.”

    “How can you say that?” you nearly sob, and wish you could hold onto her longer as she stands up and brushes dirt off her uniform. “How can you be so sure?”

    “I’m not,” Byleth says, giving you one last look. You want to tell yourself it’s something like worry you see in her eyes, but her expression remains blank, like a board that’s been wiped clean. “I can only hope.”

    The next morning, Jeralt and Alois set an unforgiving pace, determined to reach the monastery shortly after dawn broke. While everyone else couldn’t wait to reach their home as fast as possible, you feel worry grow with every step up the hill towards the walls and towers. The monastery looms like a stronghold, a building so tall and intimidating, built to make people feel small.

    You were allowed to take off the bandage, and there was nothing worse than knowing something was on your eye but you couldn’t see it. Unlike everyone else. They kept staring at you, mumbling to each other in quiet whispers, and more than once you considered telling them that just because your eye was different it didn’t mean you were blind. It was reason enough for you to put the bandage back on and stay away from the soldiers and mercenaries, leaving them to their superstitious rumours. Who could have thought that you’d grab someone else’s attention entirely with that revelation.

    Even before the first sunbeams broke through the budding branches, the wind carrying the smell of spring and new life, Edelgard stuck to you like a tick. It wasn’t hard to find out she was more interested in your Crest than you as a person, and every question you couldn’t answer fuelled her irritation. Still she was nothing but determined to squeeze the tiniest information out of you, and even though you tried to avoid her by either marching way too fast or way too slow, Edelgard didn’t relent and remained by your side. Fear is a little exaggerated to describe what you feel towards her, but it's close. Whenever her sharp eyes focus on you, unease takes hold of your brain and the words leave your mouth as nervous stammers. It certainly doesn’t help that you know she can easily hack off a grown man’s arm without so much as blinking. Or that the corners of her mouth curl up into the sweetest, rare smile.

    Once you’re on the trade road up to the monastery, pebble makes way to smooth cobblestone. Giant iron doors stand wide open, and as your group enters, a merchant’s cart rolls past you and greets the returning knights. After the first entrance point, the second waits in the form of a portcullis and more knights standing on guard. Past the second ring of walls, you enter a small forecourt. On both sides are stalls and booths with merchants screaming their prices and the sound of metal hammered into the right shape at the blacksmith’s. At the foot of wide stairs leading up into the first building, a man dressed in dark blue robes awaits you, his strong arms crossed behind his back.

    “Welcome back,” he greets Alois and the students. “Your messenger bird has reached us yesterday late into the evening, and preparations have been made.” To Jeralt, he says, “My name is Seteth. I am an adviser to the archbishop. Lady Rhea awaits you.” Jeralt nods but he looks a lot more cautious since you’ve entered the monastery grounds. At the mention of that name, his posture visibly tenses, but he gestures to Byleth and you to follow him nonetheless.

    “We shall return to our respectable classes for now and make known we are unscathed,” Dimitri says. “Please, Byleth, and you too, if things have calmed down, meet the other students as well, won’t you?”

    “Ohh, good idea. You have to go around and introduce yourself as our great saviours.” Claude winks at you with both thumbs up. Edelgard slaps his hands back down.

    “We’ll be standing here until evening if we don’t get going," she says. "Please give Lady Rhea our regards. We’ll report to her once everything is sorted out about you.” She eyes you sideways, then ushers the boys down another hall like a mother hen. You exchange a quick look with Byleth who already looks very exasperated with the student’s antics.

    Seteth leads you into the Audience Chamber, a rectangular room with statues decorating the walls, and asks for you to wait. The moment he leaves the room, you turn towards Jeralt and Byleth and ask, “Who is this Lady Rhea?”

    “I’m aware Byleth doesn’t know much about her, I haven’t taught her he teachings of Seiros, but you—” He stops mid sentence seeing the way you look at him, and clears his throat. “Lady Rhea is the archbishop of the Church of Seiros. She’s commanding the knights and sees that the people don’t do anything stupid in the name of Seiros.”

    “Seiros?” you ask, turning the name in your head. Nope, nothing.

    “You know, the one who defeated the King of Liberation and founded the Church of Seiros?” When you just shrug, Jeralt scratches his beard and hums in thought. “Well, I sure won’t be the one preaching what you should know or not. But maybe don’t make it all too obvious you aren’t a follower.”

    Or what, you want to ask, but Seteth returns and he isn’t alone. The woman walking ahead of him looks like she belongs on the portrait of a saint. It isn’t much that she walks towards you, but rather strides in grateful steps to the middle of the room, her chin raised high and shoulders squared. And yet when she looks at your little assembly, her eyes are soft and kind, her expression open and friendly.

    “I welcome you into these sacred halls,” she says, her voice like soothing velvet on your skin. “Alois informed me of what happened, and I thank every one of you for saving the students.” Lady Rhea smiles at you all separately. Her eyes linger on you, and she titles her head slightly. “I've also heard about the wondrous things that happened to you. Please, be so kind and remove the bandage. Let me take a look at this Crest.”

    You hesitate, your fingers playing with the hem of your shirt. But Rhea waits patiently and raises a delicate hand when her advisor Seteth flinches to repeat her request. Slowly, you take the bandage off, barely able to imagine how the symbol or Crest as they call it looks upon your eye. When you meet Rhea's gaze again, her smile freezes, and her eyes widen in surprise. Her lips part slightly, then stretch into an ecstatic smile. Beside her, Seteth inhales sharply. “This is impossible,” he breathes, growing pale. You start to panic.

    “Why, what's wrong with me? What is impossible?”

    “Nothing, nothing is wrong,” Rhea quickly reassures you, but it's hard to believe when Seteth looks like he's seen a ghost. “A fortunate day indeed. Not only does one of the strongest knights to have ever walked these halls return, but it also seems that a new chapter of history dawns upon us.”

    All eyes land on her, one more puzzled than the other. Even Seteth doesn’t look like he fully comprehends what’s happening. “Lady Rhea?” he asks cautiously at the same time as Jeralt demands, “What are you talking about?”

    The archbishop ignores them both, and the longer she gives you that pleasant smile, the more unsettled you feel. “When Alois wrote about a Crest appearing on your body, I was not sure what to think of it. But now, I cannot hide my joy at the return of a Crest that we thought was lost to history.”

    “I—I don’t know why I have it,” you quickly say, feeling you have to defend yourself before they accuse you of stealing it. Can Crests be stolen in the first place? “I don’t remember why I have it.”

    Lady Rhea nods, her solemn expression making way to worry. “Of that Alois informed me as well. You may stay here until your memories return. Allow me for now to tell you about the Crest. Maybe that will dissipate some of the darkness shrouding your mind.”

    You nod, and brace yourself for whatever she’ll reveal. It certainly helps that Byleth stands close to you, her mere presence a standing stone you can hold onto for now without drifting away.

    “It is a Crest most uncommon,” Lady Rhea explains, her hands gracefully crossed in front of her. “For there was only one person who bore it. This Crest belonged to the very one who served our Lady Seiros against the evil powers that threatened Fódlan thousands of years ago. He was known as Seiros’ Champion. The Herald of Dawn.”

    She allows those words to sink into you, and how deep they sink. Now that they’re out here, you feel like they pull you down, deeper down into a dark sea from which you can’t surface. The only result is drowning.

    “Herald of … you don’t think. You can’t think—” Your thoughts move way too fast, you can’t grasp any to sort them.

    “What I think means nothing in light of what has transpired and therefore is reality. You are chosen by the Goddess herself to bring hope to the people of Fódlan. You are the Herald of Dawn.”

    You feel sick. It may be phantom pain, but you could swear your right eye starts hurting again, as if the Crest is reacting to the revelation, the call of its true nature. You dig your trembling fingers into the fabric of your jacket, considering for the tiniest second to gouge your eye out. Can’t be anyone’s champion or Herald without the Crest, right? “So, you’re saying … am I the one from back then? This Champion?” If you were really the same person, how were you still alive after a thousands of years? The prospect of finally having an identity is great, but you aren’t sure you’re ready to pay the price that comes with it. And this one seems to carry a very heavy price.

    “That seems quite impossible.” This time Seteth speaks up. He looks just as unnerved by this revelation as you feel. “The Herald appeared when Saint Seiros was in dire need, and once his duty was fulfilled, he vanished. ”

    “But now, another Herald has come, and with you the promise of suffering and hardships,” Rhea explains, her expression now strict and foreboding. “The task of giving hope is the most difficult to ask of a person. But that is the path the Goddess has chosen for you.”

    “No, no, you’re wrong. I’m no Herald … and certainly no Champion of anyone. I can’t give people hope, I don’t even know what to give them hope for!” Your voice borders on hysteric, but you’ve never been more determined to plead your case. “I’m not the right person. I’m really not.”

    “Then how come you bear the Crest of Seiros’ Champion, my child?” Lady Rhea asks, and you notice the tiny shift in her voice. The kindness grows thiner and thiner, and in its place austerity and even coldness settle—the voice of authority and undeniable command. “It is Our Goddess’ will. The Church of Seiros needs you. The people of Fódlan need you. You cannot turn away from your Fate.”

    You want to argue that yes, you can; you’ll turn around and leave this place filled with crazy people and their fanatic beliefs. One look from Byleth stops your thoughts. Lady Rhea interprets this silence as compliance, and nods, visibly pleased. “We have waited for this opportunity for so long,” she continues, now smiling again. “There shall be festivities today. As a welcome to our Herald, and the return of Blade Breaker Jeralt. For you, his daughter, we have also thought of a task that will greatly help Garreg Mach.”

    Jeralt grunts, clearly unhappy, but Byleth only cocks her head to one side. You’re astonished that after everything, she’s still awfully calm and collected.

    “A teaching position has become free as of yesterday,” Lady Rhea explains to Byleth. “By Alois' recommendation, you are to take that position and teach one of the Houses here at the Officers Academy. Your colleagues will provide you with further information. As for you,” and you flinch when she turns to you, afraid what else she has in store, “you too shall teach the students the course of leadership and command. Seiros’ Champion was a great tactician. He honed Saint Macuil’s abilities. I would not be surprised if you too show an unparallelled gift for strategy.”

    “Well,” you start, but the hesitation is clear, and Lady Rhea smiles like she knows what you can do once the Crest is activated. “Whereas you are to choose one house,” she tells Byleth, “the Herald will hold seminars. As a servant of the Church, you cannot call in favourites.”

    “I don’t even know what to teach,” you mumble weakly. “How to teach.”

    “Me neither,” Byleth says, the first time she’s spoken since entering the Audience Chamber. The amusement glinting in Lady Rhea’s eyes is like the sun reflected on a purling river. “Do not worry,” she says. “You will learn in time. And we are here to help you as well.”

    On your lips lie the words that they certainly didn’t help you. You came here so they could help to search for a way to return your memory.

    Instead, they made everything worse.

    The ceremonial robes hang heavy over your shoulders. The feast hasn’t started yet, but you’re already sweating and panting with the weight of the golden embroidery and the head piece decorating your forehead. When Seteth brought everything in a couple of hours ago, he was grumbling something unintelligible under his breath, at his side a little girl who, unlike him, was happy to meet you and to see that you’d take on the role as the Herald. You wanted to tell Flayn there was a difference between want and have to, but she was already focused on helping you dress and prepare for the festivities. Servants handled the remaining tasks of making you presentable, and now you’re standing in front of a giant mirror, observing yourself.

    It was scary how things changed so fast. Not even 24 hours ago, you were a nobody, a nameless figure roaming the woods, and now there is a name that isn’t your own—no, not a name. A title. A title that will all but replace your name. History won’t remember you as a person, they will remember the deeds that you’ve done, the mistakes that you’ll commit. Lady Rhea spoke of honour like it’s a crown on your head, but you see the noose that it really is around your throat. The head piece feels too heavy, and the golden necklace sitting on your neck reminds you more of a dog collar.

    There’s a knock on your door. Seteth said that someone would get you before everything starts, and you don’t even try to hide the relieved sob when Byleth enters the room. She examines you from head to toes, and leans her head to the side, one finger on her chin. “You look … different,” she says.

    “You mean ridiculous.” You move your arms, demonstrating how the wide sleeves flap uselessly at your side. “I wish we could do this all without me looking like a sack of potatoes.”

    “I had to think of cabbages, but you aren’t wrong either.” She crosses the room and looks outside the window. You can already hear the masses as they enter the Cathedral, and it does nothing to calm your haywire nerves. Byleth seems to notice as much. She turns to you, and asks, “How are you holding up?”

    “Do you want the real answer or the one I prepared for Lady Rhea?”

    Byleth raises a brow.

    “Not good. I’m just … how could this happen?” You throw up your hands in frustration, and the robes give a dangerous tearing sound. Your arms fall immediately down, the thought of damaging a hundreds of years old ceremonial robe the last thing you need today. “Of all the things, how could I suddenly become some figure of the Church.”

    “Is it so hard to believe that the Goddess of Fódlan has lead you to this path?” Byleth crosses her ams and leans against the wall next to the window, eyeing you curiously.

    “I don’t even believe in this Goddess,” you groan, flopping on your bed. The chambers chosen for you overlook the bridge leading to the Cathedral where people swarm inside like little ants returning to their anthill. It was a small room equipped with all necessities for comfort but no additional expenses on luxury. A bed, a dresser, a simple table and chair, a mirror, and a shelf take up all the space. Not that you could have brought anything with you.

    You look up at Byleth and dread the next question. “Do you believe in it?” you ask. “That I’m someone chosen?”

    “Hmm.” Byleth casts one last glance outside, then pushes off the wall, gesturing you to follow her. You sigh, and mentally prepare yourself for what will happen in the Cathedral. Before you leave the room, Byleth rests her hand on the door handle and looks back at you over her shoulder. “I don’t know. Where I’m from, belief doesn’t save you from the sword of a thief. Only deeds and actions. It’s the reason my father and I are still alive.” She considers you for a moment, and when you blink you imagine you see the tiniest smile on her face. “What you did yesterday was very much real to me. Maybe a Goddess guided you, maybe it was just lucky instinct. But you saved my life, and that certainly is something I can rely on.”

    She doesn’t wait for an answer, and swings the door open. You quickly follow, your steps feeling a lot lighter than before. “I guess I’m just frustrated,” you admit, carefully paying attention your voice isn’t too loud. “That they think there’s someone who can just decide how my life is going to be. Like this herald business suddenly defies who I am.”

    “As long as you don’t forget who you are, does it matter?” Byleth wonders aloud, turning down another corridor that ends in stairs leading down. “As long as there is just one person who doesn’t forget, does it really matter?”

    Maybe not to her, but for some inexplicable reason, it means a great deal to you. So you answer with a grumble, and Byleth hums like she knows she’s right. To change the subject, you ask, “What about you? How can you just follow along with being a teacher here?”

    “Truth be told, I’m not happy,” Byleth says, nodding to the knights standing on guard in the first floor that leads outside. “But at the same time I can see Lady Rhea’s reasoning. Those students need someone who teaches them not to be stupid on the real battlefield. Especially when they are to be future rulers of Fódlan. If I’m the one shaping those little whippersnappers, I can rest at ease.”

    You follow her down the hallways, staying silent until, “Whippersnapper is such a weird word,” you say.

    Byleth gives a huff of air that barely passes as a chuckle. “It is.”

    Together you leave the living quarters and enter the Cathedral at the backside where everything is closed off for the rest of the people. Lady Rhea and Seteth are already waiting for you, both dressed in equally complicated robes as you.

    “Thank you, Professor.” Lady Rhea nods towards Byleth, who nods back and joins the other teachers. “And now, Herald, it is time to meet the sheep you shall shepherd from today on. Please, follow me.”

    She doesn’t give you time to prepare for the crowd waiting for you, and glancing at Seteth for help doesn’t do anything either as he just crudely nods towards Lady Rhea, telling you to go along. You square your shoulders and hope for the best.

    The Cathedral has been decorated with candles and tapestry showing the banner of the Church of Seiros and above it the Crest of the Herald. A platform has been built for your entrance, and stepping on it, your gaze roams over all the assembled students, clergy, and knights. Seeing them, you feel terror seize your body, locking up all muscles. The masses look at you with hunger in their eyes, ready to devour you like you’re the last piece of bread on the table. “Herald, Herald! ” they cry, and each time they open their mouths, the noose tightens around your neck. Saint and Martyr vaguely dance at the edges of your mind, beyond your grasp, mocking how you know them but don’t understand their very being. This is bigger than you. This is far bigger than you can manage, and you want to run away and hide from their greedy eyes.

    Scanning the crowd, you notice the house leaders in the far back. Edelgard looks unpleased, her mouth set into a grim line, while Dimitri claps politely with the rest, and Claude raises a golden cup in mocking salute. You really want to break down and cry. The only solid point is Byleth, has always been Byleth up until now, at the other end of the room, holding your gaze steadfast like a pillow of strength in troubled waters.

[hardyimagines]

Sleepy

Eddie brock going out with his gf at like 3am to a cafe just to drink hot chocolate and chill cause they had trouble sleeping. Is that a decent one shot tiny idea thingy?

———————————————————————

The moon was bright in the night’s sky. Stars sprinkled the blank area surrounding the glowing orb, glittering in the sky vibrantly. The city below was dark, most homes cascaded in a sheet of black as the owners slept peacefully behind closed doors. There were cars that would occasionally speed down the empty streets, fleeing past the lights that had been tinted green for majority of the night. There were a few fast food restaurants still open, sleepy employees residing inside with bored expressions and droopy eyes as they impatiently waiting for the clocks on the wall to strike a certain time, signaling for their departure. And for the remaining people who remained awake along with the city, people like you and your boyfriend, it was night’s like these when you just couldn’t seem to fall into slumber.

The air outside was chilly, much chillier than it was during the day now that you were without the heated glow from the sun. You walked alongside your boyfriend, clumpy slippers slapping the pavement beneath you as you shuffled beside him. Your hair was drawn up in a messy bun, fingertips wrapped around a dark purple, fluffy blanket that you had lugged off the sofa on your way out the front door and clutched around your body. You had smeared eyeliner under your eyes from the night before and you were dressed down in a pair of pyjama pants that belonged to the man at your side but they were too small for him, yet still baggy on you, so you’d taken them. Your eyes dropped to the plaid material, studying it for half a second before your attention was pulled to the heavy weight added to your shoulders.

Eddie Brock moved along beside you, his arm now rested around you snugly. His fingertips were gentle on the comfy fabric of the blanket, rubbing your arm through the thick material as he continued to talk to you about the nightmare he’d seemed to keep slipping into throughout the night.

“I’m telling you, babe,” He sighed breathily, his breaths visible in the streetlights glow. “It was terrifying. I mean, really, imagine a sixty foot tall horse trampling over you.” He lifted his gaze to the trees in the distance, as if a dark shadow would emerge from the clutter of leaves to reveal itself as this creature his brain had conjured up.

“Eddie.” Your eyes fluttered as they drifted up to his own. Your long lashes tickled your cheeks every time you blinked. “Honey, you have a parasite living inside you, how can you possibly be scared of a horse.” The amusement in your tone told Eddie that you were merely teasing the symbiote that lived inside him by using the term Venom hated most. Parasite. The flicker of Venom in Eddie’s gaze made your lips curve up on one side into a lopsided smirk. Opening your blanket, you stepped in closer to him and weaved your strong grip around his waist, squeezing him tightly.

Eddie peered down at you, doing his best to ignore the internal complaints that Venom continued to drone on about. Eddie wished that your thoughts could be invaded just as his were. It really wasn’t fair that he had to suffer all on his own.

The conversation came to a halt when you drew the heavy door open that led to the diner. The place was small, a hole in the wall, but it was known for its family business and original recipes — not to mention it was delicious — so the customers would pile in on a daily basis, typically in the mornings. They were also open 24/7 and any business that was tended to be worthy of being so. You stepped inside, unsurprised to find that it was even colder inside the small building. Eddie held the door open and piled in directly after you, coming to a stop when his chest brushed against your back. He was taller than you, chin almost pressed against the back of your head as his hands lifted to graze your covered arms.

The redhead by the door was busy smacking on a piece of gum, pink apron tied around her waist with a frilly lace lining the bottom. She was wearing a frizzy wig and bright blue eyeshadow. It was all a part of the outfit that her mother insisted was adorable — and therefore good for business. She thought she looked like a cheap extra, auditioning for a role in some movie that took place in the 50’s. The name tag on her white shirt read ‘Margaret’ and as you parted your lips to greet her, she did the same. Her lengthy nails lifted to dip past the curls and scratch at the wig that had been irritating her scalp for hours.

“Welcome.” She smiled sweetly, almost too kindly. “Would you like a table or a booth?”

Eddie’s eyes were busy dragging along the length of the room. There weren’t many people inside, but why would there be? The only other people here at this time of night would be people who travelled for work, policemen, the elderly, and people like you — people who couldn’t sleep.

You shuffled in front of your boyfriend, arm lifting so you could point toward the booth in the corner. “Booth is fine.” You didn’t mean to suggest a specific one, it was just habit to animatedly use your hands.

Eddie’s eyes flickered back to the girl as she spoke to you, gathering two menu’s and a slip of paper with the specials scribbled along the front. “Right this way.” She sighed before stepping past the pair of you and leading you through the scattered tables. Eddie was dressed down in a dark grey hoodie and some jeans he’d yanked on when you snagged the blanket from the sofa. His hand managed to find yours as it barely crept out of the underside of the blanket. Taking it in his own, he followed you toward the table that the lady ushered toward. You slid into the booth and Eddie followed suit. The woman would’ve given the pair of you a look of judgement, but she was too tired to poke fun at the fact that you’d both settled for one side when booths were double-sided. She dropped the menu’s down on the table before ensuring she’d be right back.

You knew she was probably lying, no doubt heading into the back to prepare some coffee and cups of water before she’d slip out the back door for a quick cigarette. Well, you assumed so since she stunk of ash and smoke, not that it bothered you. It wasn’t as if the pair of you were in a rush to get back home so you wouldn’t have minded if she climbed into her car and drove off to buy a pack of cigarettes, much less had a quick one in the alley. You frowned softly, realizing that you were lost in your thoughts and analyzing such a small thing. If it weren’t for Eddie’s raised brows and inquisitive stare you probably would’ve remained there, inspecting each person tucked away inside.

You didn’t feel the sleepy droopiness yanking at your stubborn eyelids just yet so you fixed them on your boyfriend. A slow smile pulled at your lips. Unlike you, he did look exhausted. He had forming bags under his eyes that left a visible dark shadow and his chin was propped up in his palm, supporting the weight of it since he didn’t have a pillow to lay on. It wouldn’t matter if he did and it didn’t matter that his eyes begged him to close. He couldn’t find the oblivion that was ordinarily so easy.

“So,” You spoke up as you grabbed ahold of one of the menu’s. Lifting it so you could inspect the muddled words in front of you, your heart sank. The font was small on the plastic, rectangular card. “Shit, i didn’t bring my contacts.”

Eddie’s brows arched at your choice of words before directing his stare toward the menu you clutched. Lifting his arm, he draped it across your shoulders, warm and exposed muscles grazing the softness of the purple blanket you still had draped around your body. “Here, I’ll read it to you.” He mumbled out, voice drowning with tiredness. He grasped one corner of the sheet but instead of dragging it away from you, he slid across the seat so that your bodies were closer together. Staring down at the options, he tried to keep it simple instead of running through a hundred different items. “Do you know sort of what you want?” He inquired, heavy breaths tickling your shoulder and cheek.

You craned you’re neck to the side, lips almost bumping his cheek. “Um.. pancakes.”

“Plain?” He grunted, doing his best to avoid the breaths of yours that tickled his rough skin.

“Plain?” You scoffed. “Are you sure you’re my boyfriend?” Plucking the menu away from him completely, you discarded it back on the clean table before rotating on the squishy cushion to face him.

“Nutella.” He corrected himself, looking in your direction slowly. Even sitting, he was taller than you. His fingertips pressed against your arm firmly, dragging you toward him so that you were forced to meet him in the middle for a gentle kiss.

“Mh, there you go.” You mumbled against his lips, not daring to break it first.

His smile broke the lip lock, teeth on show and therefore forcing your lips to graze his pearly whites. “Nutella is so sticky. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again,” His eyes were tinted over with amusement. “You’re disgusting.”

“Funny you should say that.. last time I had Nutella smeared on my lips, you licked it off.” Your brows arched in an accusing manner. “So clearly I’m not that disgusting.”

Eddie chuckled under his breath at the memory that formed in his head. Turning toward the little machine perched on the corner of the table, he drew it toward him to rest so he could type in your order. “Two pancakes?” He asked quietly.

Your eyes moved to the screen. The longer you thought about the pancakes, the lesser they seemed to appeal to you. Pursing your lips, you reached out and let your hand cover his own, big eyes squinting. “Nevermind, Baby. I don’t think I’m hungry enough for food.” Your eyes lit up at the beverages. “I think I just want a hot chocolate.”

Eddie turned his head toward your own to inspect you. “Are you sure? We can always bring them home if you don’t eat them all.” He offered.

The table in front of the pair of you blinked, waiting for the order to be placed. Eddie waited for your response, but you were busy scrolling through the lengthy list of flavors that they could add into the hot, creamy, mug of chocolate. You’d grown up hating the cup of goodness. You could hear your mother’s faint voice as she asked you if you were interested in a cup. You’d stick your tongue out in distaste before claiming that it was too sweet for your liking. Now, you drank it so often that Eddie joked at times you should just grow out a mustache — seeing as you typically had a faux chocolate one across your upper lip most mornings.

“No,” You finally spoke up quietly, pressing on a cup of hot chocolate with a cocoa stick and whipped cream. “It’s okay, baby, really. I think I’m just trying to convince myself I’m hungry because we’re here, but i probably wouldn’t even be able to take one bite, I know it.” Kissing his rough, stubbly cheek, you lingered in place before offering the tablet up to him. Eddie was the farthest thing from picky so with a brief inspection of what you’d ordered, he pressed the small ‘1’ that resided beside your drink and changed it to a ‘2’ so he could have the exact same thing.

In the corner of the room, a small computer lit up brightly with your order. You briefly looked in the direction where the quiet ding erupted from before lifting your hand to the back of your boyfriends neck. Giving him your sole attention, you ignored the woman — a different woman than the one who had seated you.

Eddie set his elbow on the table and let a heavy breath of air escape his lips. He was tired, but it seemed that the only time his body was willing to sleep was at the worst times. Now was not the most opportune moment and yet there he sat in the bright diner, chilly air wrapped around his body as he sat in the booth with droopy eyes directed at you.

Your hand lifted to his hair, brushing through the thick strands slowly, smoothing them down. “You know, for a person who couldn’t get any sleep, you sure do look like you’re on the verge of passing out.”

Eddie smirked toward you before leaning in and slowly wrapping his arm around your shoulders. His lips moved to your own, stealing a few soft kisses before he shrunk back against the chair and directed his stare toward the table. “It’s a lot easier to sleep when I’m not suppose to be.” He grunted. “And Venom’s being awfully quiet so that helps too.”

Your eyes searched his for a few moments, wondering silently if the symbiote’s need to talk all night was what kept your boyfriend up at such late hours. “Well we can take our hot chocolate’s to go.” You murmured sleepily. The bright light was beaming down on your sensitive eyes, forcing them to grow droopy just as Eddie’s had. “Maybe we need to start sleeping with our bedroom lights on and our air conditioner on high.”

Eddie chuckled lowly before moving his hand to rest on your upper back. He traced lazy shapes along your skin, over your shirt. “We can stay here. We’ll grow sleepier and sleepier and then when we get home, hopefully we’ll pass out.” He drew you toward him so your head could lay against his broad chest. The sound of his heartbeat comforted you, lulling your droopy eyes to flutter before closing. The pair of you were probably a sight, curled up in the small booth pressed against one another while you waited for your drinks.

Shockingly, it didn’t take long at all before a waitress came sauntering over with a tiny try. She lifted each mug by the warm handles and set them on the table in front of each of you before taking the tablet and setting the screen to check-out. She made sure there was nothing else either of you needed before excusing herself so she could tend to the other tables. Not chocolate must’ve been very popular at this hour because you hadn’t had to wait very long. You lifted your head away from Eddie’s chest, unsurprised to find that it felt so heavy. Peering down at the whipped cream that lined the rim of your mug, you leaned forward and licked the topping before looking toward your boyfriend when he did the exact same. The only difference was that he’d managed to smear some on his nose. You didn’t have a chance to point it out before he lifted his hand to his face and with the back of his wrist, wiped away the smudge. You smiled fondly toward the man before slipping your hand beneath the table and letting your fingertips graze his thigh. It was innocent. A touch just to touch him. But he sent you a side glance either way, inspecting your true intentions for only a moment before his hand lowered to cover your own.

A peaceful silence settled over the two of you. The only sounds present were your occasional giggles when he was messy due to the cream. The hot beverage was soothing on your throat, it made your body internally hot but weirdly comfortable. It was probably because of how cold it was inside the establishment. Eddie leaned his head to the side and let his temple find your shoulder as he continued to sip at the chocolate.

“We should’ve drove.” He finally spoke. His voice was heavy and low. The gruffness of it told you all you needed to know — he didn’t feel like walking. Especially not now, now that his limbs were deadweights and his body was ready to absolutely collapse. He leaned against your body further, arm moving to loop around your waist. You lifted your hand to his hair and began to caress the messy strands. With your free hand, you adjusted the blanket that was draped around you and made it so that it laid across him as well.

“I can get us an uber, baby. Don’t worry about walking.” You assured him. Sending a look toward a waitress in the corner, who’d been gawking at Eddie for what seemed like the second she handed him his hot chocolate, you turned your head and kissed his nose softly. It was the easiest part of him to reach. You were unsurprised when his head tipped and he leaned in for an even better kiss. Your lips pressed to his own for a few seconds before you drew back and pulled your phone from the little zip on the front of your purse. Eddie watched the blinding light from your phone before his eyes slid shut. He could hear the faint tapping of your thumbs as you clicked the little icons and typed in the addresses. Your hot chocolate wasn’t even close to being finished though, so before confirming the ride, you set your phone on the table so it would be ready when the pair of you were.

As you sipped your got chocolate, indulging in pointless conversation every now and then, Eddie remained slumped against you with his mouth hanging partially open and his eyes closed completely. It was only when you were in the middle of discussing the strangeness about chocolate being able to rock them to sleep that you heard a faint, little snore leave his lips. Your head turned, inspecting the big, sleepy bear. Your heart tightened and a little smile graced your lips. You figured you could get his hot chocolate to go, but he wouldn’t drink it cold and he’d insist it didn’t taste the same if he warmed it up. You reached around his body for the little screen on the ledge and pulled your wallet from your pocket so you could pay for the drinks.

Eddie’s body followed your shoulder wherever it went and when you began to squirm to get back in your regular position, he sleepily wrapped his arms around your body more securely. You could tell, with each passing second, that he was falling deeper and deeper asleep. So the guilt that pooled in your stomach seemed to instantly swallow you whole.

How the hell were you going to wake him up and get him to the uber?

He was finally sleeping.

The envy that flooded you intertwined with the guilt though and as you felt the reluctance to wake him, you also felt the desire to join him. Your hands fell to his hard shoulders, squeezing them tenderly before your thumb mashed the ‘confirm’ button on your phone. You supposed you could let him sleep until the headlights rolled up outside. Tilting your head so that it rested against his own, you let your eyes flutter just for the time being. The driver was still 8 minutes away, so you figured it would be okay to just rest your eyes.

The waitress in the corner lifted a brow. The pair of you definitely were a sight. Sitting in a booth, laid against one another with a frilly blanket draped around you. The glow from your phone pulled her gaze to the glass door, peering outside. She wasn’t stupid. Loads of people came to the diner at all hours in the morning. You weren’t the first couple to fall asleep while waiting for your ride, and you wouldn’t be the last. She crept up to the table and cleaned the dishes off the surface before making her way back to the counter. Along with waitressing and clean up duty, she also considered herself to be an alarm clock — for she would wonder over and wake any slumbering customers when their lifts had arrived. She slumped against the wall and waited patiently, arms folding over her chest and big green eyes sliding along the darkness that kissed the windows. Patience seemed to be a necessity — a requirement for this job. She was lucky she had plenty.

———————————————————————

A/N: I know this is shitty and very simple, but I’ve gotta her back into it 🥺💞 thank you so much for your patience!!

[etherian-affairs]

what do you think about ever changing appearance (from his evil overlord s1 look to emo spacebat in s5) as he gets closer to entrapta?

His style changes relate to Entrapta but they aren't like... That's not the whole thing. They're very interconnected characters. Hordak's entire arc relies on her and he heavily influences hers. So naturally there's a level of correlation involved here.

But really Hordak's ever changing appearance has to do more with where he is in his arc/life. He sure does have a few different outfits too, and a couple might be animation errors but who cares I like them.

LET'S EXPLORE SOME HORDAKS

(possibly an animation error)

This is a younger Hordak right here. Presumably what he looked like when Prime threw him to the front lines. The earliest Hordak we know of. Interesting he seems to have eye shadow and his dark blue hair here! So he already started becoming a person? Did Prime let him do that for giggles? Regardless Hordak gets tossed into the space dumpster.

(Also possibly an animation error.)

The second oldest Hordak we know of! He's more different now! He's still basically in the clone garb but he's ditched the pants and converted it to his colors by the looks of things. He also might be in an early version of his armor! On Etheria he has begun to actualize as an individual with his own aesthetic but is still hanging on to his clone soldier roots.

The good old fashioned season 1 and 2 Hordak. It's an evolution of everything really and a sign of where he's taken his being alone. He has his colors, his goth aesthetic. He still has some remnants of the original clone garb in his dress and the shoulders of his cape.

He's starting to try and emulate Prime more though. This makes sense since he's still worshipping Prime, and also because Prime is the only real individual he has to look up to and emulate. He's trying to be the only thing he knew, and what he was taught is the epitome of life.

His cowl thing shares a silhouette with Prime's cables/tubes. His armors limbs bulk him up to make him have a frame more similar to Primes.

Now we get our fun interlude of Armorless Hordak. This isn't really an outfit change so much as what he's wearing under the S1/2 armor but it is important. This is seen once in S2 as well. It signifies not only that he's very much not what he's trying to portray himself as but also his vulnerability in these moments. Also note that his hair is mussed up now. No longer controlled and slicked back like Prime likes it to be.

When we first see it Catra is walking in on him getting armored up, a moment of vulnerability.

In S3 he's in this after he gets injured protecting Entrapta and she begins to help him. He's forced to he vulnerable and his true self around her but it leads into...

The Entraptech armor. This is so different from his previous look. It's doesn't evoke prime anymore, it instead looks like a more complete or healthy version of his Armorless look. This isn't Hordak hiding his true self anymore it's almost a celebration of his true self made by Entrapta. The silhouette is less bulky, he doesn't have the cape anymore. It emphasizes the fact he's totally wearing a dress more. His hair also remains messy and dumb because he's not trying to be what his former God wants him to be quite so much anymore.

And it has the crystal in Entrapta's colors on his color, showing she's become a core part of his life here. This look is Hordak, this is the most who he is that he's ever been.

Anyway so then he gets wiped and...

Clone Garb Hordak.

He's been scrubbed of all of that. He's just like all the rest. Normal outfit, green eyes and teeth, slicked back white hair. He's exactly what Prime wants him to be.

Until he kills Prime and wait! Look at that!

What's that!

His hair is a little out of place again!

Anyway he ends in this look but I like to think he changes back to his favorite aesthetic when he gets a chance.

[jadethest0ne]

In need of Refueling, Chapter 7 - Disappointment

Summary:  “You?! Why would I trust you? You have brought me nothing but failure. Time and time again; nothing but disappointment!”

His father’s words might have been a result of his possession by the White Bone Spirit, but whether or not they were his true thoughts, Red Son vows to prove them wrong. To do so he seeks to attain a power strong enough to destroy his father’s immortal enemy. After all, he’d much rather throw fire at his problems.

Word Count: 2578

Ratings/Warnings:  Teen and up; injury, burns, angst and hurt/comfort, toxic thoughts caused by toxic parents, Panic Attacks, Abuse (this one also just added)

Notes: This is the chapter in which Red Son realizes that he messed up. Also, fun fact! I looked it up and the exact name for the power of DBK's armor is called "ergokinetic absorption!"

Credits: Big thanks to @painted-arachnid and @simplyfornardo  for helping me bounce ideas off of them. And also thanks to @lemonsqueazie for providing me with “Journey to the West” lore. I don’t know much about the original novel or other iterations, but I still tried to keep some things compliant with the lore. You should check all of them out, since they’re really great content creators with neat ideas!

Read on AO3

———-

Red Son brings the defeated Monkey King to his family’s lair. He carelessly deposits the unconscious body just outside the Flaming Foundry, but finds himself hesitating before entering. Right, this is a big moment. He had subdued his father’s greatest enemy. Maybe he should think of some grander, more dramatic way of presenting the Monkey King to his father. Maybe he should do some grand fire display, part the fire like curtains, and take some sort of bow? Perhaps that was a bit too flashy? Or not flashy enough? You certainly don’t casually go up to the great Demon Bull King and plop his greatest enemy down in front of him? Do you? What would his father like the most? Red Son finds himself pacing back and forth in front of the entrance mulling these things over. A few sparks of fire spout unbidden from his hair and fists. He tries to quell the flames, but they seem to rebel at his thoughts. Between his mutterings and attempts to reign in the fire, he doesn’t notice the figure that approaches him until his thoughts are interrupted by a booming voice.

“Red Son, what are you muttering about this time?!” growls the Demon Bull King.

“F--father!” Red Son squeaks out. He hadn’t even noticed that he had been talking out loud. He wonders how much his father had heard. Well, might as well lean into it. He straightens up pulling a confident smile on his face, and twirls around letting out a little bit of fire to spiral in his display. The flames sputter a bit, as if mocking his half-hearted attempt at bravado, but he grins through it. “Hello Father! I am here to present to you, your greatest foe!” He skirts out of the way and makes some tiny fireworks around his prize. “The Monkey Ki---”

“Sun Wukong?!” DBK says in surprise.

“Uh, er, ye-es!!” Red Son falters a bit at being interrupted. “You see, father, I brought him here for you!”

DBK comes closer and starts inspecting the Monkey King. He blinks and shifts his attention to his son. “You?!” he says incredulously. “You can’t be serious?! Is he… dead? How? He is immortal!”

Red Son quickly corrects, “Not dead, no! I spared him for you father! I defeated him and brought him here to deal with as you wish! And I beat him... with this!”

Red Son quickly summons some blue fire to his palm. “The True Fire of Samadhi! It can’t be extinguished unless I put it out! I’ve got him immobilized with it!” Red Son says, proudly puffing out his chest.

DBK looks Red Son up and down, narrows his eyes, and huffs out a snort. “You really did this for me?”

Red Son’s confident pose wilts ever so slightly at his father’s tone, filled with suspicion. “Of-- of course, father!”

A large shadow crosses over Red Son’s slowly shrinking form as DBK towers over him menacingly. “Or did you do this for yourself?”

Red Son’s voice involuntarily goes up an octave. “I, um... am not sure what you mean.”

DBK lets out a humorless chuckle. “Are you sure you didn’t just do this to try to prove your dwindling worth? Because how can you think that this is something I’d want? Wukong is someone that I want to defeat. Myself. Defeating him like this, in such a sorry state? Do you not think I could face him at full power myself?!”

“That- that’s not what I meant at all, father! I-I…” Red Son is now cowering underneath the angry stare of his father. “True, I did want to show my... my usefulness! But, I only wanted to help--”

“Oh please, my boy!” Princess Iron Fan appears from behind DBK with both of her arms behind her back. He hadn’t noticed her presence. She looks over all three of them with an air of pompous derision. “It is poor form to defeat someone else’s mortal enemy!”

DBK gives a nod and a grunt and stares harshly down at his son. “You continue to be such a disappointment to me, Red Son.”

Red Son’s breath momentarily catches in his throat. He stares down at the ground, his mind gone blank. He doesn’t know what to do; what to say. The words alone stung, but the pure derision in his father’s voice hurt more than expected. How had he messed up so bad?

“I--I--” Red Son has to swallow to clear his ever tightening throat. “How-- can I make this up to you, father?”

“Hmmm,” DBK lets out a thoughtful grumble.

“Well, we can’t very well just let the Monkey King go!” Princess Iron Fan says thoughtfully. “We can’t let this opportunity go to waste. It might not be the way you wanted, dearest, but we can still rid ourselves from our biggest threat!”

DBK nods sagely. “I suppose so. But I would rather have a fairer fight with him. Red Son, can you put out the flames, so he can at least wake up and defend himself? There is no pride in this.” He gestures at the unmoving form of his enemy.

“Of-- of course, father!” Red Son frantically tries to concentrate to extinguish the flames that are still burning on the Monkey King’s side. He tries to take a deep breath, but he’s still reeling from his father’s words. Was he really doing this to prove himself? No, he really wanted to be useful to his father. But was that selfish? His father seems to think it is. The fire doesn’t go out, and instead flickers and burns brighter eliciting a shout of pain from Wukong. “Wait, wait, I- I just need to--” Controlling the flames was suddenly harder. Why did he think he could impress his father this way? With fire that he could barely control! Maybe it would have been better if it had been his father who-- Suddenly a thought crosses his mind, and as it did, the flames died down slightly. The idea was kind of scary, but maybe it would be a way to make this whole mess up to his father.

He looks to his father with a sudden seriousness, readying himself for what he’d say next. “I think I know how to make this up to you father…”

DBK gives him a puzzled look, but says nothing allowing him to go on.

“What if I gave you the Samadhi Fire? You can absorb it with the armor I gave you. That way you can be the one who wields the fire.”

A grin spreads across DBK’s face. “Yes… YES!” he says triumphantly! “That is a great idea!” Red Son feels a flutter in his chest that maybe he finally was able to provide something that his father approves of. Something to finally aid him, give him the tools he needs for destruction! Who better to wield the fire than his own father, after all?

As if to echo his thoughts, DBK says, “After all, I’d be able to wield the fire with much more skill than you, surely. My more powerful body would be able to handle it more.”

Red Son’s smile wobbles a bit. True, he had that exact same thought, but hearing his father say so makes something in this chest tighten. He brushes that feeling away, and situates himself proudly in front of DBK, ready and willing to give him the power that his father deserved!

“Anything for you, father!” Red Son says proudly, confidently. Despite the fire inside him resisting, as if recoiling at his command, he summons the fire to his palms and pushes outward as DBK activates his armor’s absorption abilities.

At first, the flames go in smoothly and calmly. Then Red Son feels a tug, he feels almost like he needs to take a step forward, as the fire is pulled with more force into DBK’s chest-plate. But that’s okay, any discomfort that he feels is fine. He wanted this and it will help his father. So he buckles down and pushes out more flames for his father to absorb. The technology that Red Son made for DBK is strong though, and the pull gets more and more powerful. It’s starting to feel uncomfortable, almost...draining. Red Son has to tell himself to not slouch. But he feels a small sense of relief as the flames finally change from blue to red, and he knows that his father has absorbed everything of the True Fire of Samadhi.

However, the pull on his flames does not stop.

“Wait… father…?” Red Son starts to protest. “You’re finished, you can stop, now…?”

But DBK doesn’t seem to have any intention of stopping. Blue flames swirl in his eyes, obscuring his vision. He growls angrily, almost as if he is in pain. “Such… power! So much!”

Something must be wrong. Red Son tries to put out his flames, tries to disconnect the path as his fire leads to the center of the armor. But he can’t. His fire keeps getting yanked in that direction and the feeling of weakness, of being drained, becomes stronger. He bends over, tired, his eyelids are threatening to slip shut. “Father… stop… please!” he begs, the sudden bout of weakness preventing him from thinking straight, all pretense of being a strong and proud son lost. His fire keeps getting drained away and he can’t stop it.

Princess Iron Fan steps in and lays a hand on DBK’s arm. “Dearest, you are behaving strangely. Stop that now.” DBK spins around, waving her off harshly. She has to step back and take up a defensive position. However, this movement seems to be enough to finally break the chain of fire that is being absorbed into DBK’s center, finally releasing Red Son from the pull.

With no more forces in play, Red Son leans forward and his knees wobble dangerously, nearly bringing him to the ground. His eyes droop tiredly and his entire body feels like jelly. A chill goes up and down his spine as he realizes that he’s suddenly very cold. He hugs his middle as if to try to keep any heat from escaping. His brain doesn’t really want to work and everything just feels wrong. He becomes aware of a prickling sensation on the back of his neck, and he sluggishly turns his head to look. The sensation moves and he realizes that it is his hair, which usually sticks upright, that is tickling the back of his neck. Before he can ponder that, his focus is drawn to yelling.

It is his father. DBK is shouting angrily, eyes literally ablaze with blue fire, and flames spouting from his mouth. He seems almost feral, rabid. It’s similar to how he was with the White Bone Spirit possessing him. He breathes flames around with no direction in mind; wild and unfocused. Princess Iron Fan has to jump out of the way of some of the blasts.

“It’s too much! Too much power! I can’t--- It burns! Everything burns! Everything else must burn!” DBK shouts. His eyes focus on Red Son. “YOU!” he snarls.

DBK stalks close to Red Son, who can’t do anything but stand there on unsteady feet and just wait for what is to come. Princess Iron Fan tries to jump in close to stop him, but DBK’s flames block her movements, and her wind attacks do nothing but stir up more fire. DBK reaches out a hand and snatches up Red Son around his arms and torso. He begins to squeeze. Hard.

“You did this to me!” DBK growls “You just want to show that you’re better! That you can control this better! That you can defeat my own enemy!”

“N-no, father--” Red Son tries to protest, but his voice is halting and weak. It cracks under the pressure on his body, and under the very weight of his own words that he can barely get out. “I just wanted--” He can’t finish. He doesn’t know what he wanted. Not this. He didn’t want this.

DBK squeezes harder, Red Son’s breath gets pushed out, and the pressure on his arms and chest are unbearable. He hears something crack. Somethings crack. But before he can even register that, pain flows in a rush of wind as a gust of blue flames envelop him. If Red Son could spare a thought, he’d think it was ironic to be burned by his own fire. He supposes he deserves it at this point. But all thought leaves him and is only left with HURT. Everything hurts! He’d scream except that he has no more air to scream with, and he can only press his forehead against the large gauntlet that is holding him as his only way to brace himself against the pain. Unconsciousness is almost about to overtake him when he hears a yell.

“STOP!”

The flames, thankfully, do stop, and the grip holding him loosens just enough to allow air to fill Red Son’s lungs. He pants tiredly, and shallowly, each breath bringing a sting of pain to his sides. His head still rested on the large hand, he rolls his head over to look toward where the voice was. To his surprise, he can see Wukong, still on the ground, still with his side on fire, looking up at DBK with a fire in his eyes blazing brighter than the flames burning his side.

“Your beef is with me, DBK, not him!” Wukong says, propping himself up on his elbows.

Red Son is not sure whether or not he feels more confused, surprised, or ashamed at being defended by an enemy. An enemy that he himself put in that situation. How weak must he appear that he’s being pitied by someone in that terrible state? He hates it. He hates that his plan didn’t work. He hates that his father finds him such a disappointment. He hates that he gave his father an unruly power that put him in this condition. And he hates that everything is now literally burning up in his face. He hates himself.

“Sun Wukong~” DBK breathes gutturally. Everything else seems forgotten to him as he turns towards the Monkey King.

He then yowls and charges at the Monkey King. In this motion, fire spins around him, throwing Princess Iron Fan back, and flinging Red Son away. Red Son flies across the now flaming area, meeting the ground a few times before smacking into a nearby building with such force as to leave a crater in the wall. He drops to the ground in a limp heap, landing on his chest, and once again, the wind is knocked out of him. His eyes are half-lidded as he sees his father’s charge be suddenly stopped as a form lands on the ground in between them. An angry wind whips around them causing DBK to come to a halt. Red Son’s eyes become blurry, but he forces them to focus just to see this newcomer.

Of course, he should’ve known that that little pain in the butt would appear eventually. It’s the Noodle Boy. Red Son is in pain, and tired, and his eyes are threatening to close, but he’d recognize that annoying face anywhere. Though this time MK’s eyes are filled with more anger and hatred than he’s ever seen in them. It’s that anger, that hurt, that Red Son sees last before his eyes finally slip shut and darkness finally overtakes him.

start || <– previous // next –>

[enneadau]

An Example:

Of how things can change between original planning and production. For example after what Otogi pulled, this version of Marik would not have worked:

Yugi smiled as she entered her bedroom to find, for the seventh day in a row, a bunch of flowers led on her desk with a simple white card. Dropping her school bag and moving over to the desk her smile broadened as she saw the same awful handwriting on it as had been there for the last few weeks but the words on it made her pause.

 “To Yugi, here's some beautiful flowers for a beautiful girl. Please make me the happiest boy in Domino by going on a date with me. Love Namu.”

 She tried not to giggle at the eye roll she could sense from her twin sister at their new friend's cheesiness. Namu was cute, she had to admit and it was nice to get flowers from someone. She had never had a guy truly interested in dating her before but the intern was nice, friendly, fun to play games with and he clearly wanted a date.

 She did not know if she should though. She had Anesan to consider before she said yes to his question. It was not fair for her to date anyone who did not know about the Spirit of the Puzzle. Especially when her twin regularly took over to play games and hang out with their friends...still...

 'If you want to go out with him, Imoto, then I'm not going to say no.' Oneesan spoke up as Yugi sat on the bed and considered what to do. 'You're allowed to date...we can always tell him about me later.'

 'Yes but...' Yugi hesitated. She liked Namu. She really did. She just did not entirely feel comfortable with saying yes without telling him everything. It was only fair for her to do so before they tried a relationship.

 'If you like him then I trust your judgement, Imoto. Go. Talk to him.' She felt her Anesan settle down to wait, 'If he's okay with what you tell him...he might be worth keeping.'

 Yugi laughed at that. Namu had been working in the shop since she had been hospitalised because of the fire. He was only on a temporary contract over the summer and it was due to end in the next few weeks. She and grandpa had been discussing whether to extend his contract and had not yet come to a decision. 'Alright, alright. I'm going...'

 She stood and headed down the hallway to the kitchen, where she knew Namu was heating up his food for his break and paused just out of sight of the doorway when she heard his voice. She frowned slightly as she realised he was on the phone, which to be fair he was allowed to be since he was on break and tried not to eavesdrop, something that suddenly because much more difficult when she heard, “Yes, sister, I know. I know. No, I'm not...I'm aware that I'm supposed to be getting close to her. Why do you think I've been courting her vessel...”

 Yugi suddenly felt like she'd been stabbed in the heart, her face paling as she backed up.

 He knew.

 He not only knew but he had been using her to get to Anesan...

 She could not handle it.

 She could feel Anesan's anger rising, but her own emotional pain and swirling thoughts kept the spirit from seizing control and shaking Namu until he started telling them the truth.

 Yugi put down the flowers and fled back to her room, slamming her bedroom door behind her.

---

Anzu frowned as she reached the top of the stairs in time to hear a door slam.

 Doors slamming in the Mutou residence was a rare occurrence. Neither of the Mutous displayed their anger that openly and when they did snap it was because someone had pushed them to their limits, in fact she had never seen Yugi lose her temper properly with anyone before. Jou was prone to fits of rage, though he was getting better on that front, but even he did not slam doors around here, especially not during the day when there would be customers downstairs in the shop.

 What worried her the most was that it sounded like it came from the back of the flat, towards the bedrooms, rather than the store room that had been converted to a bedroom for Jou when he had first moved in. Ojiisan would be working the shop right now, which meant that somehow, between Anzu pausing outside to answer her mobile phone and now, Yugi had been provoked into an incredibly rare display of anger.

 Concern flowed through Anzu as she made her way through to Yugi's attic conversion bedroom, noting the flowers on the side by the kitchen and Namu eating his breaktime meal in the kitchen as she went, and reached Yugi's room to find that yes, for the first time in pretty much forever, Yugi's bedroom door was shut.

 “Yugi?” Anzu asked, trying the handle and becoming relieved when the door opened, having half expected Oneesan to have barricaded it with magic or something. The door opened almost silently, not that the occupant of the room noticed. Yugi was curled up on the bed, back facing the door, her body trembling. Anzu could hear the faint sounds of her crying into a pillow as she approached the bed quietly and bit her lower lip as she realised her friend was hurting. She had a horrible feeling she knew why as she put her hand on Yugi's shoulder.

 The girl jumped a mile, the pillow going flying and furious ruby overtaking bloodshot, puffy amethyst and though under normal circumstances she had no fear of the spirit of the Puzzle any more, Anzu put her hands up and backed off to show she was not a threat, “Easy, just me. What's happened?”

 “Namu can go fuck himself.” Oneesan hissed out, her tone so close to the old days, when whatever Namu had done would have resulted in a Shadow Game that Anzu winced.

 “What's he done?” She asked, worried now. “Is Yugi okay?”

 “No. You know all those flowers and chocolates and games he's been leaving Yugi? And all the flirting he's been doing?” Oneesan's tone did not improve as she stretched and stood up, her body language reminding Anzu of a big cat on the hunt. When Anzu nodded the Spirit of the Puzzle continued, “Imoto finally decided she was going to take a risk and agree to go out with him...”

 “And he's changed his mind?” Anzu asked, wincing when Oneesan snorted dismissively and shook her head.

 “He's never been interested in her.” Anger rose in Anzu at the Pharaoh's words. “It's not Imoto he's been after. It's me. Imoto heard him on the phone, talking to his sister. He's been 'courting' Imoto in order to get close to me.”

 Anzu's hands balled into fists. Suddenly Oneesan's pure fury made perfect sense. Yugi had not entirely been comfortable with guys, except for Jou and Honda, since she had been kidnapped by Hirutani's gang. She had actively avoided any guy who had tried to flirt with her and kept herself well away from any potential relationship. For her to finally decide she liked a guy enough to make that jump and say 'yes' to him and hear that...no wonder Yugi was devastated and the spirit was fuming. Anzu wanted to smack him herself.

 “What's your plan?” Anzu asked, watching the Pharaoh pace the room like a caged animal and staying out of her way.

 “I'm too angry to decide.” Oneesan admitted with a grimace. “I want to Challenge the little...sod, but I shouldn't do that in the shop. And I want to ask him questions because he clearly knows about me, except I'm so pissed off right now, that I can't trust myself to listen to what he's saying properly.”

 “And what does Yugi want to do?” Anzu nodded, thinking.

 “Curl up in a ball and cry for a bit.” Oneesan sighed, closing her eyes so she could focus properly on how her other heart was feeling, “Then get whatever information he has for me before staying in here until his contract is up and she doesn't have to see him again.”

 “Can't you ask Ojiisan to let him go now?” Anzu's confusion caused Yugi to come out and shake her head.

 “N-No. I-If we fire him now, i-it's for personal reasons, not business ones...he could sue.” Yugi's voice shook as she went and sat on her bed, wiping her eyes and trying not to start crying again in front of Anzu, no matter how much her heart hurt. “And we c-can't afford a l-lawsuit right now. Not after the f-fire...”

 Anzu hesitated for a moment, then sat next to her and pulled her into a hug. Within moments Anzu could feel Yugi shaking in her arms and she rubbed the girl's back as she felt tears sink into her top. “He's an ass, you're better off without him.”

 Yugi did not cry for long but when she pulled away her shoulders were drooping, her head hanging low and her eyes showed how unhappy she was was. Anzu pushed her own anger aside to sigh, “Hey,” Yugi looked up at her, “We're going out.”

 “B...but...” Yugi started but cut off when Anzu shook her head.

 “No buts, I'm paying. We're going out and getting pizza. From that place with the all you can eat dessert bar.” She knew she had Yugi's interest when she saw the girl lick her lips, “No boys. Boys smell.”

[drawlfoy]

The Wonders of Ohio P.6

masterlist (catch up on parts 1-5 here!!)

request guidelines

pairing: draco x reader

request: my original idea :))

summary: y/n’s senior year was going to be great, but her British exchange student is a little weird. this is NOT a non-magic AU. draco’s still a wizard in this fsjifkszfjkd

warnings: language, fainting, bad driving, mentions of drinking and drug use

a/n: eeee this is such a fun bit to write. thank you all so much for being there for me. this is definitely one of my favorite fics i’ve written since it gives me so much creative liberty and the fact that i get feedback and readers for it...just warms my heart. if you’re reading this: thank you so, so much for sticking around. i might come around with more oneshots soon. anyways i hope you enjoy the initial descent into the real real plot. also fluff will be coming soon i promise but i wasn’t lying when i said this was slowburn

tags tags tags @gruffle1 @missmulti @cleopatera @hahaboop @accio-rogers @geeksareunique @eltanin-malfoy @war-sword @cams-lynn @itsivyberry @ayo-cowbelly @nerd-domland @yesnerdsblog @shizarianathania @evanstanfanatic @strawberriesonsummer @hariosborn @night-ving @icintliviinyiniilsiji @erisdogwood @loveissupernatural

word count: 3.4k

song recs:

a pearl -- mitski

movement -- hozier

revival -- deerhunter

Draco was crying.

Or, at least, someone was. The gasps coming from just a wall away were apparent, but Y/N could hear a voice that didn’t quite sound like Draco--which had to be a trick of the mind, because there could be no one in there but him.

She rapped on the door against her better judgement to be met with a flurry of movement--fabric rustling,  and a soft pop that echoed through the air.

“Draco? Are you alright in there?”

Y/N found herself wishing that he wouldn’t open the door. After the Homecoming ask, the last thing she wanted was to see his stupid pretty face again, but she was a good host sister. Emphasis on sister.

To her shock, the door swung open. Just a few inches, just enough for her to see the pile of black shredded paper in the middle of his room and a drained looking Draco glaring back at her.

“Can I help you?” His once pristine white shirt was gray in some places, like he had rubbed ashes on it. 

“I just thought--did you burn something?”

“No. What is it?”

She looked at him a bit closer. His eyes didn’t look red rimmed with the dead giveaway of a crying session, but they looked close. The furrow in his brow was from worry instead of his usual sternness and he kept nervously pulling down at his left sleeve. 

Draco wasn’t crying, but he was about to.

“I…” There was something deeply unsettling about seeing Draco so uncollected and fidgety--almost like seeing a fish out of water or an American conservative with an adequate understanding of class struggles.The air was charged with something yet again, so much so that Y/N could feel the hair on her arms stand up. She decided to avoid damaging his masculinity any further. “Nothing. It just smelled a little like smoke. I wanted to make sure you weren’t burning a candle or anything. You know how my mom is about that.”

He continued to stare at her.

“Would you like me to leave you alone?”

“Please.” 

Well, that was embarrassing thought Y/N as she made her way back down the hall and to her backpack. I get rejected twice in one day. Smooth.

The days following were profoundly more uncomfortable. Breakfasts became uncomfortably akin to the Silent Game and Draco stopped coming out for tea in the evenings. The drives to and from school were decorated only by occasional bits of small talks or grumbles of exams. In short, Y/N knew that she had overstepped a boundary and Draco was pulling back.

School had finally become crazy. Y/N’s life became so entrenched with letters of recommendation and 200 word supplements that the Draco shaped hole in her life was bearable. After all, she was fine before he came, and she was fine now. She’d been silly, allowing herself to fantasize about a kid with some serious trauma and family issues that clearly had personal things that handle before he thought about getting all cozy with someone who was not in the slightest compatible with him. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

oOo

If someone turned a glass of whole milk into a human, that person would be Chad. He was the poster child of an “American” boy--tall, warm blonde hair, slightly tanned skin, and cornflower blue eyes. 

But his personality? Not so much. 

“My beloved husband!” Y/N called out as she saw him speaking to her mother in the foyer while Draco glowered in the corner. She bounded down the stairs in record time, leaping into his arms as her strappy heels swung from her hands. He smelled of cotton and laundry detergent. 

“Hey nerd,” he said, swinging her around in a circle before setting her down. “Did you finish the Econ homework? I was hoping I could take a picture before I leave…”

Y/N drew back to smack him on the shoulder. “You disgust me.”

“You abuse me.”

“And I’ll do it again,” said Y/N. She had forgotten how funny he was. 

“Oh, you two,” Mrs. Y/L/N cut in, stepping between the two and pressing the boutonnière into Y/N’s hands. “Always bickering like a married couple.”

Lizzy snorted from the top of the stairs where she was struggling to stuff a light jacket into her purse. “Hot take.”

“Hold still,” commanded Y/N, holding the pin and attempting to attach it to his lapel. “I’m literally going to accidentally stab you. Cut it out.”

He made a face down at her. “Do it. You won’t.”

“Oh? I won’t?”

“Y/N,” Mrs. Y/L/N’s exasperated voice warned.

“I’ll refrain, but only because the rug we’re standing on was my Grandmother’s,” Y/N said to him, her voice dripping with sweetness. “Consider yourself lucky that you’re not on the tile.”

“I’ve never been more thankful that my late grandmother-in-law had such impeccable taste.” 

“Suck up.”

“Oh, because you’re such a rebel.”

“It’s called motivation!”

“Honey, I want a divor-”

“For Christ’s sake, stop flirting or I’m going to puke,” a cool voice cut in. The group turned to see Sylvia standing in the doorway, clad in a flowing black dress that just barely ghosted over the top of the floor. 

“You look radiant, darling,” Mrs. Y/L/N said.

“And we weren’t flirting,” said Y/N.

Sylvia sent her a little wink before walking to sit down on the couch across from Draco, who was currently perched cross legged and looking profoundly uncomfortable. 

Sylvia, Lizzy, and their dates all opted to take Lizzy’s car to the city while Chad, Y/N, and Draco took Chad’s. The plan was to drop Draco off at the school with ample time to prepare him for the uniquely traumatic experience that was ASB sanctioned after school events, and to the plan they stuck.

“Yeah, go ahead and treat me like your chauffeur, “ scoffed Chad as Y/N slid into the backseat next to Draco. The sports car was surprisingly narrow with hardly any space between them. If she wanted to, she could easily rest her thigh against his.

“It’s called being polite, dear,” said Y/N, flicking the back of his head before turning to face Draco. “You’re really gonna commit to this? Major props, but, like...you really don’t have to go to this if you don’t want to. You can even stay home. I know how to sneak you back in.”

Draco rolled his eyes. “I’m here for the American experience, right?”

“Hate to break it to you, but there is no uniform American experience. It’s all personalized, and I don’t know if you want yours to be seasoned with 14 year olds T-posing in a circle to...I don’t even know. Chad, what kind of music do they play at those places?”

“Fuck if I know. I don’t go to them either.”

“It’s fine. I told Heather I’d be there.”

“Ooookay, whatever you say,” Y/N said. 

They rode in silence for a few more beats. The wind outside was uncharacteristically strong for an early October day, and it looked like a storm was brewing. In their rush to get to the dance on time, they had neglected to take precaution against the wind and ran outside to Chad’s car without a second thought. Draco’s suit, while posh and put together, had clearly bore the brunt of this choice. His tie had become slightly rumpled and his hair mussed, a look that was all types of wrong on him.

“Draco?” she asked. He snapped to attention. “Your tie is all undone. Can I…?” Y/N motioned to his neck.

Wide-eyed and frozen, he met her with, “er...sure.” 

Y/N leaned forward, trying to think past how her thighs were just barely touching his. Her corsage (a tasteful red, thank you very much) bumped against his chest, flattening a bit. She wasn’t very familiar with ties--she’d never had to be in her past experiences--but whatever his was made of, it was expensive. The fabric felt silky and impossibly smooth in her hand as she carefully untied it.

Chad took a sharp turn into the school drop off lot, prompting Y/N to nearly topple into Draco’s chest. His arms shot out to steady her and retracted so quickly that she was left wondering if she imagined the whole ordeal. 

“So it’s true,” said Chad from the front. “Nerds do have bad upper body strength.”

“Shut up,” she responded. Her cheeks felt unbearably hot as she tried her best to focus on tightening Draco’s tie and ignore the fact that she was close enough to smell his cologne--a soft pine, she observed--and feel the shadow of his breath on her face. His hands were clasped together lap, tight enough to turn the knuckles white. 

It was an odd feeling, getting butterflies in her stomach while she was touching a boy that wasn’t her date as Chad careened towards a parking spot and pulled in so violently that Y/N almost went sprawling into Draco again. She looked up at him, getting ready to crack a joke about the absurdity of the situation or the questionable driving; instead, she found herself staring up into his eyes. 

His normally pale eyes looked darker than usual--his pupils were insanely dilated--but that was because it was dark in the car. Obviously. Out of the corner of her eye, Y/N could see his chest rising and falling with an urgency that she hadn’t noticed before.

“Do you want me to uh..fix your...your hair, too?” Y/N said, mentally cringing at how she stumbled over the sentence. To be fair, his hair was ruffled and out of place. It wasn’t like she was making an excuse to touch it or anything.

To that, Draco jerked away from her, his back brushing up against the opposite car door. “No. No, it’s ok. I’ll fix it myself.”

Y/N was sure that her face was tomato red.

“Alright buckaroo,” Chad said from the front, his nonchalant demeanor never more appreciated. “Your hot date is here. Get out of my car. We have a busy day of antiquing ahead.”

Any semblance of casualness left Draco’s body as his eyes widened. “Antiquing?”

“Yeah, remember the place I took you to right after you came here?” asked Y/N.

“Er...don’t you have anything better to do?”

“Excuse me?” She sat up straight so quickly that she felt her hair come slightly undone at the nape of her neck. “That’s rich, coming from the kid going to a school dance as a senior.” 

“It’s probably not going to even be open. It’ll be late by the time dinner’s over,” he said. 

“Since when do you care? Honestly, quit acting weird,” Y/N responded, scootching away from him as he made no effort to get out of the car. 

“I’m not--it’s--erm, nevermind, forget about it.” He cleared his throat, straightened his tie, and brushed off his lapels. “Heather must be waiting for me. Goodbye.”

After a little struggle, Draco managed to best the slightly confusing door handle of Chad’s car and was out the door. Y/N slid across the seat and out with him, shutting the door and grabbing the handle for the passenger side. 

“Y/N?” Draco’s voice called before she had the chance to fully get in and tell Chad to book it. 

“What’s up?”

He took a few steps forward, pausing just a couple feet away from her. His eyes were cast to the rain puddle ridden cement. “Promise me you won’t do anything stupid, okay?”

“I should be telling you that, king,” Y/N quipped. “Your first real American dance. If you go to any after parties, make sure to watch your drink. Don’t take any substances from strangers--or, anyone, really--”

“Y/N, he’s not a chick.” Chad, his hands still perched on the steering wheel, turned to peer out at her. “He’ll be fine. I think they have beer in Britain.”

“Well, whatever. Have Heather text me if I need to pick you up anywhere. And don’t get in any cars with someone who’s been drinking!”

“Y/N!”

“Ok, ok, I’m coming.” She slid into the car, turning one last time to say bye. Draco was already gone. “Only if I drive.”

oOo

“So Heather and Draco, huh?” 

Y/N scowled at Lizzy as she speared a piece of her salad particularly viciously. “I don’t know if it’s like that. I think he’s just being polite, or whatever. I think British people are just like that.”

“Why are we even talking about that boy?” Chad asked. “He’s got that whole Timothée Chalamet dying Victorian toddler aesthetic if Timothée was blonde and had a perpetual stick up his ass.”

“In a hot way, though,” said Lizzy, her eyebrows wiggling. Jonathan scowled at her side. “Oh, don’t be so jealous. As if I’d ever go for a kid who doesn’t even know what Snapchat is.”

“I don’t understand what Heather sees in him,” Chad continued, his fettuccine plate long forgotten. “He’s got the personality of a wet rag, and she’s so bubbly and...I don’t even know. Do you guys get what I mean?”

“Draco’s got personality,” said Y/N. 

“Not like Heather.”

“It’s not his fault he’s reserved. He’s actually really funny.”

“And that’s what I like to call rose-tinted glasses,” Chad said, gently poking her cheek. 

“Hey! I’m the one who lives with him.”

“Whatever. Let’s just call for the bill. I’m not hungry anymore.” Chad folded up his napkin, placing it on top of the tablecloth and ignoring Y/N’s protest as he got out his wallet and placed a credit card on the table. “It’s on me, guys. You know how my parents are. They’re just happy that we’re all getting together again instead of holing up in our rooms.”

“Thank god junior year is over,” Sylvia added. “That’s really kind of you. At least let me get the tip?”

As the group bickered over the payment options and flagged down the waiter, Y/N noticed her phone lighting up with a notification.

Heather, 6.48pm: Hey girly! Sorry to bug you on your night but Draco wanted to check in and ask where you guys are/what you’re planning on doing tonight.

“Who’s that?” Chad asked, looking down at the little paragraph in the gray message bubble.

“Just Heather. Draco wants to know what we’re doing. Probably because he’s realizing how sucky dances really are and is about to beg us to come pick him up.”

He snorted. “Yeah. Poor kid.”

Y/N typed out a quick “we just finished dinner and are heading to the antique place now. lmk if i need to pick him up earlier” and tucked her phone away in her purse. As much as she resented it, she couldn’t help but wish that Draco wanted to join them instead.

“Are you guys ready to beat it and hit up that antique place?” Marvin, Sylvia’s date, asked. She rolled her eyes and sent him a lazy smile.

“You sound like a dad.” 

“Off like a herd of turtles, baby,” Y/N offered, gathering her things as they made their way out the restaurant door. “Not gonna lie, this place doesn’t show up on Google Maps or anything. I think I know how to get there but none of you guys are allowed to make fun of me if I take too many wrong turns.”

“No promises,” said Chad, winking down at her and giving her shoulder a little squeeze. 

 As they walked, it became profoundly obvious that Chad and Y/N were the only two who weren’t officially an item. Lizzy and Jonathon were walking hand in hand while Sylvia and Marvin whispered in each others’ ears when they had to wait for crosswalk signals. While she had great chemistry with Chad, nothing ever felt real with him. It always felt like an act.

Perhaps the tension between them was because of that one time they kissed and never talked about it again in freshman year after a particularly nerve wracking competitive math round before she quit--something that she wasn’t exactly going to shout off the rooftops for the masses to hear. Or maybe because he pushed her away right after and said it was a mistake. 

Whatever it was, Y/N and Chad were decidedly not romantically involved. She had been shocked when he’d even bothered asking her for the night. Granted, they were always pals and it shouldn’t have been awkward, but drawing the comparisons between her and the other girls was making the evening very uncomfy. Y/N couldn’t help but pray that Chad was going to be the one to break the ice.

“Where the fuck is this place?” he finally said, much to Y/N’s glee. His grace and manners were absolutely unparalleled. “It’s cold and I’m sure it’s going to start raining again.”

“It should be just a few more blocks and then to the right,” she responded. “Sorry. It’s cool as fuck, though. I promise it’s worth it.”

“This is just her ploy to lure us all away from civilization to off us,” Sylvia said, turning around from a few feet in front of them to raise her eyebrows at Y/N. “Eliminate the competition before college apps even begin. I’m impressed, honestly.”

“Now you’ve gone and ruined it all,” she fired back. “Thanks, Vy.”

She was relieved to see that the antique store couldn’t be missed, even if she tried. The sign, a worn and friendly gold, was illuminated by large lights. The words “My Grandfather’s Attic” had never looked more welcoming as Sylvia gripped the door and ushered them inside.

The moment Y/N stepped inside, something felt...different, kind of like the hair-raising feeling she got when she was around Draco. The electricity in the air she felt with him could easily be explained away by the fact that he was, for lack of a better term, the most stunning person she’d ever seen, but perhaps she was slowly getting over him. Perhaps…

She turned to see Chad, his honey blonde hair spilling over his forehead as he focused on a basket of vintage buttons that seemed to glimmer in the light. The furrow in his brow--the same one that she’d been so familiar with after seeing him solve countless math problems--appeared as he examined the basket, turning a red button around in his fingers, soft and and sprinkled with writing calluses. 

Maybe it had been Chad all along. Maybe Draco was just a detour. 

Before she did anything she regretted, Y/N turned and made her way back into the store. The set up was the same as she remembered--interesting and foreign objects hanging from the walls, ceilings, and congregating in baskets and overflowing shelves. She didn’t even realize that she had migrated over to the opposite side of the room until she felt the solid, cool wood of the black box from her dreams pressed into her hand as she turned it over and traced the strange white sign that was etched into the front. 

“Y/N!” 

The sound snapped her out of her trance to see...Heather and Draco? He was jogging towards her despite the fact that he was wearing a full suit. Y/N made an absent note to make fun of him later. 

“Why are you--”

“Put that down!” He stopped a few paces away, his eyes darting around the store at a frantic pace. “We need to leave.”

“Why? Honestly, if you wanted me to pick you up, all you had to do was…” She had to take a breath to steady herself. Her body felt like it was filled with static. “All you had to do was ask.”

“That’s not...ok, just put it down,” he commanded. “Please. Just put the box down. We need to go home.”

“No! This is my last homecoming. I’m sorry your experience wasn’t great, but I don’t...I don’t, uh, appreciate…” The lightheadedness hit, so suddenly that she almost fell. 

“Fuck, are you okay?” Draco was right in front of her in an instant, his eyes scanning her face.

“I feel...” She took a shaky breath. “I feel...starry?”

The last thing she remembered was Draco trying to tug the box out of her grip, his other hand warm on her shoulder.

And then everything went black.

final a/n: so draco got a howler and some wack stuff happened, huh? tell me what you think. 

[lo-55]

Playing With Fire Ch. 2

What Do You Know?

@emrysaf

When dawn breaks through the window and assaults your eyes you take a few long minutes to relish the feeling of obliviousness. 

If you lay here for long enough and pretend hard enough that yesterday never happened maybe you can open your eyes to your own living room, or even a hospital room where they’ll tell you you took too many Benadryl and hallucinated everything. 

Eventually you have to open your eyes and look to the ceiling. 

You really don’t wanna do this, but here you are. Doing this. 

You really, really wanna open your eyes and find yourself home, with the storm blown over and your life back to normal. You wanna call your parents, who you never knew you could miss quite this bad. 

You can’t do any of these things. 

All you can do is open your eyes and look at the unfamiliar ceiling.

There’s a few cracks in it that you count while you remind yourself how to breathe. Eventually you have to get up and change into the school uniform instead of the blinding orange jumpsuit. If you remember right you were all supposed to meet in a classroom to get your final assignments, and then jump on a train and go to your new company with a resume in hand. 

You ended up following a pair of girls to the classroom, where you plopped yourself next to Shinra. You didn’t see Arthur or Ogun anywhere, which was weird. If you recalled right Ogun stayed in the fourth after graduation, and he and Arthur were close friends of Shinra, even if Arthus disagreed with that fact for the most part. 

You shoot Shinra a quick grin, and turn to face the front again. 

If you remember right, this was where your were assigned the fourth in the game, along with Ogun. You (or the MAIN character) got in trouble snooping around and Ogun, after hearing your reasoning, turned himself into your own personal body guard. 

Now that you were thinking about it, it might be a good idea to start writing everything you know down. 

God knows you’re gonna forget something important when you need to remember it. 

Er, Sol knows? 

This is stupid. 

You look up at some nameless teacher who paces the front, holding a stack of assignments for you and copies of the applications that had been sent to each of the companies. 

This is it. 

You sit a bit straighter. 

The teacher hands out each person a form. When you look to the side you see Shinra grinning that huge, nervous smile of his and it’s all you can do not to pinch his cheeks and tell him how cute he is. 

The teacher finally hands you your assignment. 

Company 8. 

You do a fist pump. 

“Hell yeah! First choice!” 

A few of your classmates shoot you startled looks. Was your character really so quiet before? 

“Hey, I got the same one,” Shinra poked his head over to see. The list was pretty simple. All it said was the company number, their captain, leuitenant, and address. A glance around revealed that everyone else had a whole packet of information on their new companies. But 8 was so small, and so new, apparently they didn’t warrant it. 

That was fine. You already knew enough it hardly mattered. 

“We’ll be together then,” you say cheerfully. “Wanna take the train together?” 

Please say yes. I don’t know where the train station is. Or how to ride one. 

Shinra nodded, “Yeah. Sounds like fun.” 

“Wanna meet at my room and we’ll go? It says we’re supposed to meet them at their station this afternoon.” 

“Are you sure?” Shinra looked startled. You poked his cheek. 

“I wouldn’t have said it if I wasn’t, babe.” 

Shinra suddenly looked unsettled. “You’re not just doing this to mess with me, right?” 

“Mess with you?” You cocked your head. “What would I do that for?” 

He didn’t have an answer for that, but it made you sad. You knew he got teased a lot, but was it really so bad he thought you being friendly was a trick? 

You were so gonna get in a fight here someday. 

You flipped your company eight paper around so you could take a look at the copy of your resume that they’d be getting there. It was pretty bare bones. It had your name, age, weight, height, blood type, and listed you as a Second Class Fire Soldier, as well as your grades. They were all pretty average, but apparently you were good at math. 

You didn’t have a home address, but it did say you were Ueno, but that part you knew already. In the game you’d gone to Asakusa on an errand, done a bunch of side quests, and found out that Ueno was your home town and it was nearby. It was mostly made of museums and old buildings. 

Still nothing about your pyrokinesis. Damn it. 

This was starting to get annoying. 

“So I’ll see you in a few hours, right?” You clarify quickly, looking up at Shinra. 

Shinra still looks surprised, but he nods quickly, with another small smile. “Yeah. I’ll see you then.” 

You bump fists with him again before you retreat to your room. 

You take to your desk and grab a pencil and paper to try to write down everything you remember, in english for good measure. You don’t know how you know japanese now, but then again you don’t know a lot of things lately. 

What I know for sure: 

MAIN CHARACTER’s family is from Ueno. They died in an infernal fire. They had a sister they’re looking for. They have their sisters ring, a scar on their wrist, and lighter that’s connected to the Tragic Back Story. After the fire SISTER enrolled in the Fire Force Special Academy, leaving MAIN on their own for a few years. She disappeared not long after graduating, and MAIN joined to try to find her in turn. 

In the original game MAIN joins fourth company, which their sister was a part of before her disappearance. In their first night there they dream of a man in a red suit who smiles and pats their head. He’s probably important. Maybe dad??? Likely dead. They snoop around and get in trouble a couple of times, but the captain is on their side and let’s it slide with a slap on the wrist? And no mention of wanting to be lit on fire. He’s a cool, if weird old dude. 

Ogun takes it upon himself to look after MAIN after they nearly get arrested looking into 5th company. 

    Note, avoid the Princess until after Shinra works his magic. 

A choice is made: agree to let Ogun help or ditch him. 

MAIN chose help and together THEY snuck into the Holy Sol Temple. While Ogun looks above, MAIN manages to find a door leading down to old training grounds.

    Note. MAIN didn’t know they were for the shadow sun whatever they were called training. 

MAIN gets lost and pops out at the end of a tunnel, where Joker happens to be setting some cards up. 

    Note . Why???? 

A choice is made ; Tell Joker the truth or lie. 

MAIN admits to Joker that they’re looking into a disappearance, and suspect the church of having something to do with it. They admit that they think the entire situation is a little hazy, and the history is a fragile thing. After that Joker is considered a Friend.  

MAIN returns to Ogun, but only hints at what they found underground. That night they dream of the Man in Red, who tries to speak to them and pats them again. They notice he has a ring with the same design as their own. 

MAIN also spent time in Asakusa with Benimaru Shinmon and Konro. MAIN was little more than an over glorified messenger at the time, but took advantage of the opportunity to see their old home. (UENO) 

    Note. Benimaru is hot

A choice is maid ; leave at once or help out. 

Did a buncha side quests in Asakusa when MAIN stumbled on an old subway entrance in the basement of a restaurant they were working in. The owner says it’s dangerous to go down, but there are a few other holes around the city. Most have been boarded up long ago. 

MAIN, not knowing what they are, leaves them be. 

    Note. Were the subways part of the underground church forbidden place??? Asakusa doesn’t follow the church? So they don’t think they’d curses just dark and flooded? 

MAIN goes home. Rumors of the White Clad begin to circulate, and MAIN goes to company eight to ask Shinra about them directly, thinking that their sister might have been taken by them. 

. . . 

You look at your paper and realize something vital. 

You’ve misspelled maid. 

Fuck it. 

You also write the three powers you could have picked down in blue ink, taking the last pen in your drawer out.

The fire wings, Phoenix in the game. They were support type, with heavy defense properties and minor healing powers, but you couldn't fly which was lame. 

The fire spear, the Sun Lance, was a damage type power. It took fire from around you and made a blade at the end of a long stick. Technically it was a spear, but if you flipped it upside down you could ride it like a witches broom. That one you could fly with, but not the wings. 

The magnet sand, Dark Desert, was a tank type. They made a lot of long range weapons and smashed through fire pretty easily and made strong walls, but it couldn't get too close to you or you yourself will take damage, and you can’t move while you use it. 

They’re all really cool, but you still don’t know which you have and you have no idea how to find out. And you can’t ask anyone or you’ll look crazy! 

...Maybe you should arrange an ‘accidental’ fall down the stairs and claim anmesia. 

Just when you’re seriously considering that option a harsh knock sounds on the door. 

You jump and smash your arm so hard into the drawer you actually break the bottom out of it. 

“Shit! Just a second!” You yell at the door. You scramble to try to hide the evidence when you realize ; the drawer isn’t broken. The bottom is fake. 

You carefully extract, from within, a thin, red, leatherbound book. A look at the inside cover shows you a note. 

To keep your thoughts in order, you scatter brain. 

<3 Fuyuki

Another knock sounds. 

“Hey! Are you ready to go?” Calls Shinra from the other side. 

“Y-yeah! Just a second!” You stuff the book into the front pocket of your bag and throw yourself to the door. You swing it open and throw Shinra back with your blinding grin. 

“Let’s go!” 

~

When the two of you board the train, each clutching your bag close, you’re forced to stand shoulder to shoulder with Shinra, who ends up keeping up his grin the whole time even though you can see him visibly straining to stop it. 

It probably doesn’t help that you keep looking at him, but oh well. 

The second you step out on the platform the screaming starts. A burning train is on its way. An infernal. You and Shinra scramble towards the sound, with Shinra in the lead, and come to a halt just in time to see the train stop. Fire streams out the windows and a creature from a nightmare crawls out of door. 

You swallow thickly. You can smell burning flesh. You can feel heat on your skin. 

This is real. 

You tear your eyes away from the walking corpse in time to see Company 8’s bad ass entrance. They’re all so cool! Maki is such a badass, and Obi is way too strong, and Iris is sweet faced and determined- 

You’re barely able to focus on the infernal itself, and you actually forget that the big metal sign is going to fall up until it happens. 

Shinra shoots off like a bullet. 

You’re left behind, your hair whipping behind you and your arm raised to protect your face while Shinra saves Iris for not-the-last-time. 

You watch him introduce himself, for a moment feeling like you’re just an observer. Its not really intruding, but the familiarity of it all doesn’t help anything. 

It’s not until Shinra points at you and says your name that you snap to attention. Your body knows to salute even if you don’t. 

“Sir!” You echo. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. That was totally awesome, sir.” 

Obi gives you a brief once over before he nods, seriously. 

“Yes. Yes it was. It’s good to have the two of you. Come on. We should get going, back to the cathedral.” 

You and Shinra hurry to grab your things and follow after the four of them. 

When they’re not looking you elbow Shinra. 

“That was so cool!” You hiss. “I didn’t even have time to react and you totally saved the sister!” 

“A-ah, you really think so?” Shinra looked away, his cheeks pink and his grin huge. He scratched his cheek in embarrassment. “ I just did what any hero would!” 

You laugh and swing your arm around his shoulder. “True! Still, it was really awesome. I know I can count on you to help me in the future, right?” 

Shinra nods quickly, however embarrassed he might be.

“Yeah! Or I’m not-” 

You don’t get to hear his new, weird nickname. You’re cut off by the fact that instead of loading into a matchbox the captain has called you a cab. 

That’s weird. 

You know that’s weird. 

“...I don’t get it, but I’m not fighting it,” you say after a minute, and crawl inside. Shinra follows suit and the two of you finally make your way to the run down cathedral. 

Home suite home. 

 ~  ~

A/N So which power do you guys wanna see?

Dark Desert, Phoenix, or Sun Lance? Please let me know!

[soft-glitch]

Through Thick And Thin

Fandom: Sonic the Hedgehog

Type: hurt/comfort, platonic fluff

Word count: about 2700 words

Author’s notes: this year was a mess. But I’m grateful for a few things that happened to me in 2020. One of these things is getting into the Sonic fandom, which helped me find joy in being creative again. Another is a budding friendship with someone really cool, that I can only hope will last for a long time.

This fic is kind of a gift to that person for New Year’s Day. To everyone, but especially to you O, I wish a happy new year and many good things to come.

- - - - -

It was not an easy morning.

Shadow had always been an early bird. He never needed much sleep compared to other mobians, thanks to his bio-engineered origins. This was both a blessing and a curse, depending on the days.

Being able to stay up most of the night during missions proved useful more than once. On the other hand, when ugly thoughts would assail him and sleeping them away was not an option, well… It was suddenly much less interesting.

On this last day of December, the hedgehog could not shake uneasy feelings. Between Eggman’s plotting and his own personal issues Shadow always had rough times, but this year had been… a lot.

Walking silently in the empty corridor, careful not to wake up anyone in the household, the dark mobian reached the kitchen and started preparing hot chocolate. Since most of his friends knew about his sweet tooth he didn’t bother hiding it anymore, and Rouge always made sure they were stocked up on cocoa.

While waiting for the milk to warm, he glanced at the clock on the wall. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

The eerie calm of early hours often made Shadow slightly uncomfortable. Despite his introvert side enjoying the peaceful solitude, it was also a moment where his thoughts would simmer in his mind, either awoken by confuse dreams or simply emerging as the day started. He would often put some music or read a book to avoid thinking too hard about it.

Didn’t always work, though.

Taking a deep breath the hedgehog felt some relief at the sweet scent of chocolate. He took a small sip before moving to roll himself in blankets on the large couch. With a long and noisy yawn he reached for the remote and pointed it at the large TV screen in front of him. Maybe there was something nice to watch while waiting for his roommates to get up.

- - - - -

When Shadow opened his eyes again, sunlight was gently glowing through the translucent curtains of the living room. Which meant it was probably kind of late already. It seemed he fell back asleep at some point.

With a frown, he rubbed his dishevelled quills and took a look at his phone. Almost 11am, and no sign of Rouge or Omega... This was odd, especially since they planned on spending the New Year’s Eve together.

That’s when he noticed an envelope lying on the small coffee table, next to his now empty mug. It was plain kraft, with a small card inside that only offered an address and the words “At noon, don’t be late hun”.

Obviously from Rouge. She loved putting mystery and drama in everything she did. Shadow huffed and shook his head.

Irredeemable.

Did that mean his friends got up without waking him and prepared some kind of surprise? However silly it was, this simple envelope brought some warmth to the hedgehog’s heart. He got up to take a quick shower and prepare for the day, a small smile peeking at the corner of his lips.

- - - - -

The location was one Shadow didn’t particularly recognise, a small intersection in a popular part of the town. Since Team Dark lived in a suburban area and their job at G.U.N was usually all over the world, his knowledge of the city was lacklustre. Right as his phone displayed 12pm a text popped up on the screen.

Rouge Right behind the shoes store, a cafe.

The striped mobian rolled his eyes with a hint of amusement. Even for something as simple as a New Year between friends, the bat couldn’t help making some kind of fun game to play. Shadow would gladly proclaim it futile and childish, but he actually enjoyed these quirky adventures his best friend always peppered in his life.

What he saw next filled him with pure joy. Of course Rouge wouldn’t choose a random cafe to meet. She had to make it extra one way or another, and she just knew how to please him.

The Gentle Garden Chao Café & Flower Shop

Almost giddy at the idea of having some sweets surrounded by chao, the ultimate lifeform stepped into the small establishment. A quick glance around made him happy beyond words: soft muted lights and warm colours complemented vintage furniture, large potted plants adorned all sides of the place, and —most importantly— chao of every kind were all over the place, either walking, being cuddled by clients or sleeping on small pillows.

In the back of the room was a large counter, behind which a massive chalkboard displayed both the cafe menu and prices of various flower arrangements.

Before Shadow could go and talk to the barista, a familiar face caught his attention. Rouge was there, sitting nonchalantly and sipping some drink in the most ostentatious way possible.

The hedgehog smirked and sat in front of her.

“So...?” he started with a raised brow. “So what? Did you think I’d let you stay home for this special day?” Rouge huffed between two exaggerated sips. “It’s just New Year’s Eve, not an anniversary or something...” Shadow said, glancing at the table.

He realised an order of white chocolate cappuccino —his very favourite drink— and forêt noire —one of his favourite sweets— were set in front of him. For a second he felt something rise in his chest. A mix of gratitude and that odd yet pleasing vulnerability he could only feel with his closest friends.

“I know it’s just the new year.” the bat leaned on the table, her eyes both tender and serious. “I also know you haven’t been doing great lately. It’s been a difficult time, and of course it won’t magically be over as midnight comes, but...”

She looked in the distance, her eyes piercing through the windows and their cold winter lighting. Shadow could very clearly feel the bittersweet essence of her expression. This year had also been hard on her.

“We’re in this together, y’know.” she resumed, turning a gentle smile towards him. “And while I can’t resolve every problem we have, I can at least invite my emo bestie to enjoy some chao and indulge in sugary treats!”

The hedgehog chuckled at this, then raised his cappuccino mug. “Let’s have a good time, then. To us bitches.” he said with a knowing grin. “To us bitches!” she exclaimed happily. ”Now drink that ‘ccino, we have chao to cuddle.”

Some laughs and friendly banter later, two chao had found their way on Shadow. One was sleepily nested on his legs while the other was playing on his head, brushing his quills curiously.

“You really have your way with them, just like Omega...” Rouge remarked. She loved the little creatures very much, but she never seemed to attract them as easily as her two partners. No one really knew why and she honestly didn’t mind. It was fun enough to observe them from a distance: no risks of ruined haircut or having one mess with her wings.

“This is the best.” the hedgehog whispered, his voice full of emotion. His friend chuckled. Shadow was endearing in many ways, but his love for plants and creatures was unparalleled in an extremely wholesome way.

“Did you ever consider adopting one?” she asked before biting into her remaining pastry. Shadow’s expression became slightly somber as he looked at her. “I…” he sighed and scratched the sleeping one’s head. “I always wanted to, I guess. Even on the Ark, once we learned about them with Maria, we used to pretend having one. There was a plush, I don’t remember its name. We would play parents, bring it along for walks across the Ark, this kind of things.”

Rouge nodded sympathetically. Maria was less and less a sensitive subject as years went by, but Shadow was still defensive about these memories. Sharing them was one of the most intimate things he would do, and she felt honoured every time it happened.

“Maybe one day.” the hedgehog shrugged with a tired smile. ”Right now our lives are too dangerous. I can’t raise one properly as long as we keep fighting and going on missions Chaos knows where. – Let’s hope we get Eggman and his clique once and for all, then!” Rouge said with a grin. “Can’t wait to have you pester us with photos of your ugly little baby.”

The genuine laugh that followed made the bat beam with happiness.

- - - - -

The very specific atmosphere of New Year’s Eve was not lost to the two mobians as they strolled in the city. Streets were bustling with activity, but in a way that felt distinct from other winter holidays. The ambient anticipation was less frantic, almost… solemn. Instead of rushing for gifts and food, people seemed determined to enjoy the final hours of this year.

Shadow found it interesting, not without its charm. He was more used to strolls in mountains, lonely forests and small paths undulating through fields. The buzzing activity of the city was something else —very nice, though. Plus Rouge knew every neighbourhood surprisingly well, and offered him little fun facts and stories about all sorts of buildings and places.

“It’s a real shame we don’t get more free time between G.U.N and Eggman.” the bat lamented. “There are so many nice spots I’d love to visit with Omega and you. – We do have vacations once in a while.” Shadow replied. “Yeah, but they’re either ruined by some apocalyptic event or by an intense need for rest.” she sighed. “We can’t enjoy the Museum of Arts if we’re falling asleep every two paintings.”

The dark mobian nodded. Technically Omega and him didn’t need a lot of sleep, but being world-saving heroes brought its own kind of mental fatigue. Moments of calm and respite were too few and far between.

“Well. Next time we have some days off we’ll organise a Team Dark afternoon.” Shadow offered. “An exhibit or two, some games at the arcade. Maybe a small concert at a cafe. – Oh my. Hun, I’m impressed to see you take this kind of initiatives.” the bat replied.

The hedgehog gave her a friendly nudge. “Shut up, can’t let you make all the decisions. – I don’t see why not.” Rouge shrugged with a knowing smile.

They suddenly stopped. Without really realising it, the duo had reached the large avenue leading back to their house. As they exchanged a glance, Rouge winked. “Omega must be waiting for us. Let’s move!” she said cheerfully.

- - - - -

An immediate wave of relief filled Shadow as soon as they passed the front door. “Finally some warmth.” he sighed, removing his large coat and thick scarf. “I was expecting your lowered body temperatures.” Omega’s robotic voice answered from the kitchen. “Hot tea and biscuits are ready for immediate consumption. Made with love.”

Rouge snickered and Shadow repressed a chuckle.  Both knew Omega was absolutely unable to cook anything without setting fire to it, so the biscuits were probably store-bought. They still appreciated the gesture greatly.

Everyone gathered around the table, remembering stories about the now-ending year and its numerous developments. Adrenaline-filled fights, obscure investigations and exhausting assignments went alongside hilarious mistakes, glorious teamwork… and even celebratory moments with all the other heroes of Mobius.

“Okay, but the award for the best party of the year still goes to Knuckles’ surprise birthday.” Rouge said confidently while helping Omega put on a colourful crochet beanie. “Ughh please. Let’s not talk about it.” Shadow groaned, knowing exactly where this was going. “It was extremely fun. The fireworks accident made it over 200% better than any other celebration.” the robot insisted. “Oh right, I almost forgot about that!” the bat laughed. “Poor Knuckie, having to deal with a fire hazard on his cherished island…”

Memories of the furious echidna shouting frantically brought a grin to Shadow’s face. “But!” Rouge added, ”I mostly remember someone having a few drinks too much and— – NOPE!” the hedgehog exclaimed as he brandished his hands. “No talk of this specific event shall happen in this house. Ever.”

Omega tapped his fingers on the table as he eyed his smaller friend. “It is a shame I did not record it for ulterior viewing.” Shadow’s glare was so intense the former badnik recoiled slightly.

“Oh well, it’s all in the past now.” Rouge mused teasingly. ”Good times, good times...”

- - - - -

The closet was absurdly full of useless trinkets and Shadow was very, very close to “fix” it with a Chaos blast.

Of course he wouldn’t, knowing how preciously Rouge kept all those odd items from her past. Jewels, foreign souvenirs, postcards, old plushies, photographs… All her memorabilia was kept there, in a mismatched mess mixed up with cleaning supplies, spare beddings and various tools.

“They should be somewhere near the bottom!” the bat shouted from across the flat. The hedgehog growled, his eyes desperately scanning the clutter in front of him. Finally he found what he came for.

Fairy lights. The essential accessory to any LRCS —Living Room Camping Session.

Shadow walked back to the main room, where a drying rack and several chairs formed a structure covered by sheets and blankets. Omega was evaluating whether the improvised tent was big enough for him. “It is perfect, Rouge. We will be able to fit within the designated comfy area.” he said before crawling underneath the colourful construction.

The hedgehog carefully hung the string of lights around and inside the tent before plugging it. Rouge grabbed some snacks and scuttled against the large robot, who fiddled with the remote until a title screen showed on the TV.

“Are we really watching this?” Shadow asked hesitantly. “Shadow. We all know your inclination for romance between organic beings. Please come cuddle so we can start the movie.” Omega said. “Don’t tell me you suddenly decided to hate cheesy fiction, sweetie.” Rouge added. “I would rather perish than lose your snarky remarks and teary-eyed spee— – Alright, I get it, I’m coming.” the hedgehog replied with a frown. “This better be good, though.”

It was everything but good. Outbursts of laughter and incredulous stares followed one another as the movie —a romantic parody of the famous blockbuster Attack On Mobius— kept getting more and more absurd. Omega threatened to turn himself off as he struggled to find any reasoning behind what was happening, and Rouge almost choked on her pop-corn near the end of the second part.

When the credits started rolling, the three buddies snuggled together. The winter night cold was no match for a group hug and thick quilts. Shadow eyed his phone and hummed.

“It’s almost midnight. – Does that mean we have to prepare a wish?” Rouge asked in a sleepy voice. “We don’t have to.” the hedgehog replied, glancing at his two friends.

Has to be an odd sight, he thought. A haphazard team with so many differences, united by pure luck in a challenging world. Chilling together in a makeshift tent in the middle of a flat like nothing else mattered. He closed his eyes and took a moment to appreciate the warm feelings. Being surrounded by such amazing souls for whom he really mattered. Knowing all the affection and dedication hidden behind that seemingly cold name, “Team Dark”.

“I wished for a pony.” Both Omega and Shadow looked at their bat friend with tilted heads. “What? They’re cute, I dunno.” she shrugged with a shit-eating grin. “What would you guys wish for? – Dual plasma swords.” the robot replied. “Maybe I should ask Miles when we cross paths again.”

Rouge rolled her eyes, then shouted curse words as she realised midnight was mere seconds away. Omega startled, making the whole tent fall on the team. The striped hedgehog quickly covered his muzzle with his hands, trying to suppress an irresistible laugh. No matter how hard life was, no matter the obstacles in his way, one thing was certain as the year came to an end.

Friendship was all he could wish for.

[hyunrun]

Dream SMP/Batfam

This is my reasoning for connections between Dream SMP members and the Bats. This was all just for fun, but feel free to give feedback if you’d like! And do say if I’ve made a mistake. I haven’t done everyone, so if there’s anyone else you’d like me to do, lemme know! Please read, I spent a good while on this :D

Batman (Bruce Wayne)/Technoblade: Technoblade's Dream SMP origin story starts with his parents dying, so the backstory fits. He swears to kill all orphans because of the way they killed his parents (Similar to the way Bruce wanted to stop crime from running rampant in Gotham). Techno is also, technically, an orphan as Bruce was. I've always imagined Bruce's voice to be kinda like Techno's, especially that monotone tone he uses, and especially when he's Batman and not Bruce Wayne. Bruce Wayne is -Bat-man and Technoblade is a pig, need I elaborate? Both of them seem to stay up till ungodly times of the day, and I'm sure their sleep schedules are never on the same clock as anyone else's, Bruce's because of his vigilante lifestyle and Techno because... well, he's a Minecraft YouTuber. Both of them have a father figure, although not biological. They also have a friendly rivalry with a fellow content creator/hero (Cough Dream/Superman cough). We say Dick/Wilbur is dramatic, but you can't possibly mean to tell me Batman/Technoblade isn’t subtly more dramatic. They practically invented being dramatic in their respective businesses.

Alfred Pennyworth/Philza Minecraft: Is the father figure to Batman/Technoblade. Is really a force of chaos but everyone pictures them as a soft, loving dad because we all have parental issues and we need more father figures. Both of them are very badass in their own ways. Old and British. Here's a parallel I thought was pretty cool. Philza had been building up his hardcore world for 5 years before he died. It was like his home disappeared in front of his eyes as he fell away from his life. I'm not sure which continuity/arc this is from (Please do not hate on me, I am but a small child) bUT I do know that Alfred died of a heart attack/stroke at the same time the Wayne Manor was destroyed. His home was destroyed as he died. Just as Philza's had been.

Damian Wayne/TommyInnit: Is never really loved by anyone at first glance (From the fandoms). Tommy's the loud, annoying one, Damian's the grouchy, haughty one. But everyone eventually gravitates towards their characters later on. Their families were wary of them at first but grew to love them. Both of them are the youngest, and generally angriest child. Both are not American, Tommy being British and Damian, Arabic. They both have ICONIC mothers. MotherInnit is a queen, we all know this. If she can handle Tommy, she can handle absolutely anything. Talia Al Ghul has a reputation of her own right, and while she hasn't quite the pristine repertoire, she definitely strikes a strong mark on people. Now, this is a dumb connection between the two, but hair!! Tommy’s seems nice and floofy while Damian's is generally drawn spiky, and I think that's a cool contrast. Their love for pets is also important to note. Tommy's the one that's known for starting wars over the deaths of his pets, and it's easy to know that Damian wouldn't hesitate to hurt someone if they did anything to Titus or Batcow. It’s been shown on multiple occasions that he loves his pets a lot.

Jon Kent/Tubbo_: Best friends with Tommy/Damian. Do not try to argue that Jon and Damian aren't best friends because come onnn. And PLEASE do not take this as a dumb excuse to ship Tommy and Tubbo, as I know people ship Dami and Jon. Both are the embodiment of chaos wrapped in kindness, and both are definitely the more stable of their friendship with the other gremlin children. I am confident that both would probably refer to their parents as mother and father dearest. You cannot convince me otherwise. Tubbo has already done so, and Jon would never disrespect his parents, so this would obviously be the next best alternative for when he is upset by them. Jon’s powers fluctuate upon shifts in emotion and he can’t really control his powers, like the shifting of Tubbo’s alter egos. We never know when Toob or Big Law will creep out of the shadows.

Dick Grayson/Wilbur Soot: (Second) most dramatic in the family, though perceived as the drama queen because of their boisterous personalities. The one that was probably a theatre kid in school. The lighthearted one that keeps everyone cheerful, but also the one with the easiest path to a horrid descent into madness. They have a flair for drama, the glitter and sparkles to Batman/Technoblade’s sombre smoke and haze, which is why they work together so well. The closest family member to Tommy/Damian. Their little brother/big brother dynamics are just impeccable. Both are the most simped for by their respective fanbases (from what I’ve seen). The token pretty boys. Both artistically talented in different ways, with Wilbur’s music and Dick’s acrobatic skills. Also the ones that get constantly shipped with every woman they literally even look at. They also express their dramatic tendencies through their clothes, Dick with his jazzy Discowing suit and Wilbur’s dramatic L’manburg outfit.

Superman/Dream: The OP gods, need I say more? Friendly rivals with Technoblade/Batman. Very often perceived as ‘Perfect’ which they are not, but many refuse to accept that. A funny parallel I drew was the fact that both of them are famous in their own rights, but can just walk around and not get recognised despite millions of people knowing their online/superhero identities. Both are technically not human.

Stephanie (Batgirl/Spoiler)/Sapnap: Both of their names start with S! Not my only reasoning, but I’ll take it into account anyway. Both are basic looking in my head (Blue eyes blonde hair for Steph?? There’s at least 3 other girls that look EXACTLY like her in the nearby DC universes. And Sapnap blends in with every other white boy, though I love him regardless.) but both also have immaculate personalities to make up for it. They’re the most normal people out of all their co-streamers/superheroes in my eyes, also my favourites. (I didn’t realise as I put them together that I loved them most but here we are). They’re both great at dumb banter. They don’t have huge, hilarious bits often or any constant jokes that are pulled on time and time again, but their general atmosphere makes everything seem like a joke. They may not be the best at what they do in their friend groups but are actually really good nonetheless and do not get due credit for their effort and talent sometimes. Has a warring relationship with Damian/Tommy (Sapnap over the pets and Steph and Dami didn’t have the most friendly relationship at the start)

Jason/BBH- Same but opposite but same. Exists to cause chaos. I wouldn’t have associated these two with each other till the Badlands became a thing… but then the Badlands became a thing and I had to. Now, I know that technically Bad doesn’t have a grudge against Techno, but Jason would totally set up a whole empire just to mess with Bruce’s plans, just to get in the way, to instigate, to fan the flames of the fire till he’s driven Bruce to his breaking point. Bad isn’t exactly trying to do that, but he’s only around for the chaos. He’s only here for his own benefit, and he’s only here for that because of the hurt caused to him by the nation he came from. A parallel being Jason causing havoc because of the pain Bruce caused him. Besides, both have a cool red and black colour scheme, and both wear jacket!! Both are also technically not alive (If we're considering BBH as a demon).

Roy Harper/Skeppy: I have absolutely no explanation for this, but it just Fits. Besides, they have cool opposing colour schemes and are best friends with BBH/Jason!!

Aaaand last but not least

Jason/Technoblade: Now you must be thinking But Kaly you already spoke about them! And yes, I did, and they do go really well with their respective characters but I couldn’t simply ignore the connection between these two, so I thought I might as well write about it. Technoblade was an English major (If I remember correctly) before he dropped out to pursue his youtube career. Jason, though this may not be a well-known fact, was a definite literature nerd at school before he met his demise. Their cut off education in English is an interesting parallel to me. Both of them also have destructive tendencies, with Technoblade being an anarchist and Jason periodically running an underground empire to make sure he can do whatever the hell he wants to. They don’t generally care who they hurt on their way to reach their end goal. Jason’s reckless shooting and killing clearly shows this, as he continuously justifies his actions by saying he’s ending crime rather than just making it wait in line for its turn to pop up again, while Technoblade’s release of the withers and excessive use of his firework crossbow clearly shows that the deaths of the residents of L’manburg do not matter to him as long as he abolishes the government.