#hes given a choice between the entire universe and his family and he chooses the universe | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

den-gamle-kartograf · 1 year ago

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Listen. I love all four of these characters and I cannot believe I have to choose one of them, but at the same time, I feel like Commander Wake is the obvious choice and I’m shocked she is losing.

Let me break this down.

I do not dispute that Ianthe is a master of gaslight, gatekeeper, girlboss. Among other things, she:

Instantly and without hesitation killed a guy she’s known her entire life to gain unspeakable power

Had an intense and horny frienemy-ship with Harrow, taking full advantage of Harrow’s unreliable sanity

Betrayed her mentor to save God (derogatory)

Took over running the empire as God’s favorite saint after the violent disintegration of God’s polycule sent him into his depressed slut era

Has what was in all likelihood an intense and horny frienemy-ship with Gideon, complete with friendship bracelets and a triple(?)-cross

One thing Ianthe is not, however, is “morally gray.” The driving motivation behind everything Ianthe does is Ianthe. (And Coronabeth, which is fascinating and complicated and too long to get into here.) She does crimes for power or for fun. She is causing problems On Purpose.

Besides the detail that he isn’t technically a girl, John Gaius hits the three Gs spectacularly as well. Become god-emperor? Check. Hide the secret of lyctorhood from your empire, and hide the existence of perfect lyctorhood from your lyctors? Check. Lie to everyone about all of this for 10,000 years? Check.

Plus, he does the most incredible poor-little-meow-meow cosplay.

I do think there’s some real grayness to his character, too. He was originally Just Some Guy. He was never prepared for the kind of power he was unexpectedly given. He hated the trillionaires and wanted to save the world.

In practice, of course, he applied the Jason Mendoza approach to saving the world (apocalyptic climate change does in fact become a less pressing problem when you trigger apocalyptic nuclear war), and he succeeded at killing literally everybody except any of the trillionaires. And then he made himself into something even more powerful and unequal than a trillionaire and spent the next myriad trying to purge any sign he’d ever fucked up, rather than, idk, actually making material conditions better for anybody.

There’s a theory going around that his ultimate plan is “kill literally everything in the universe, and then myself.”

Cool motive, still murder.

But Wake?

Commander Wake?

Ms. Awake Remembrance Of These Valiant Dead Kia Hua Ko Te Pai Snap Back To Reality Oops There Goes Gravity?

Commander “I HAVE ONLY ONCE MET SOMEONE SO UTTERLY WILLING TO BURN FOR WHAT THEY BELIEVED IN” Wake?

Commander “THE ONLY THING OUR CIVILISATION CAN LEARN FROM YOURS IS THAT WHEN OUR BACKS ARE TO THE WALL AND OUR TOWERS ARE FALLING ALL AROUND US AND WE ARE WATCHING OURSELVES BURN WE RARELY BECOME HEROES” Wake?

That Commander Wake?

She’s a terrorist network leader.

She has killed before and she will kill again.

She wants to kill God.

She will stop at nothing to demolish his empire.

She’s willing to use the necromancers’ tools against them.

She fucked God’s most loyal lyctor (and also the ghost living in the back of his head).

She tried to use God’s stolen jizz to create a human lockpick.

When that failed, she impregnated herself with the express purpose of killing the baby.

(She genuinely loved her family.)

And when that mission failed too, she chose the baby’s life over her own.

Then she stuck around as a ghost and tried to kill God again.

In a lot of ways, I think Wake is Jod’s opposite - alike enough to make a comparison, different in the ways that matter most. She knew from the beginning that in order to take down the greatest threat to humanity, she would have to kill millions of civilians. She knew she would have to become a monster, and she made no attempt to hide from it. When offered the choice between dying in a way that might possibly let someone else finish her mission, or living but giving up the best shot at accomplishing her life’s mission, she willingly and deliberately chose death.

Was she in the right? Maybe.

(“What about Harrow?” Listen. I cannot put my feelings about Harrowhark Nonagesimus into words so I am not going to try. Suffice it to say that she’s absolutely a morally gray girlboss, but she’s also many other things. Being a morally gray girlboss is Wake’s entire existence.)

Please. The rest of the cast has had so many chances to shine in other tournaments. Let Wake have this one.

(Art for Commander Wake, John Gaius, and Ianthe Tridentarius used courtesy of @midnightcrows. Check her out, her art is fantastic!)

The top two characters will be eligible to proceed into the bracket!

Propaganda under the cut. Be warned, it is extensive - Locked Tomb fans are apparently... verbose.

Commander Awake Remembrance Of These Valiant Dead Kia Hua Ko Te Pai Snap Back To Reality Oops There Goes Gravity:

Leader of a terrorist organization devoted to killing God. After she died she hung on as a revenant through sheer self-righteous hatred, tried to kill two different saints, and tried charging God with crimes against humanity. Also she carried her daughter to term solely for the sake of killing her as a ritual sacrifice, and referred to the child only as "the bomb" throughout the series. She's morally ambiguous (instead of just awful) because she's probably right, but it's honestly a close-run thing.

She was the leader of an insurgent force who hate necromancers and want to destroy God, who are descended from filthy fucking capitalists. She was the most successful leader in years. She fucked a guy ordered to kill her and the guy's dead best friend who sometimes inhabited his body. She allied with two of God's saints to unlock the tomb. The saints fucked god and stole his cum. All the eggs the saints gave her died so she impregnated herself with the god cum and gave birth to a baby. She called the baby bomb. Her lover pushes her out of the airlock. Her ghost angrily recants his name and the people who find her baby name her after him. She possesses her daughter's two handed sword. Her daughter jumps on a fence to sacrifice herself for her homoerotic archrival slash best friend, and said best friend becomes one of god's saints. She possesses the body of one of god's dead saints to rekindle her relationship with the girl possessing the body of the guy who killed her. She invades her daughter's rival slash lover slash friend's mind and attacks ghosts contained in her fucked up dream bubble. She starts moving around the space station they're on in the real world while her daughter's consciousness possesses her arch rivals body after her arch rival enters said dream state. she saves her daughter with god's life. She argues with god and tries to charge him for war crimes. her ex kills her. but none of that matters what really matters is that “I KISSED YOU AND LATER I WOULD KISS HIM TOO BEFORE I UNDERSTOOD WHAT YOU WERE, AND ALL THREE OF US LIVED TO REGRET IT—BUT WHEN I AM IN HEAVEN I WILL REMEMBER YOUR MOUTH, AND WHEN YOU ROAST DOWN IN HELL I THINK YOU WILL REMEMBER MINE” this quote. this quote is amazing. “I WILL REMEMBER THE FIRST TIME YOU KISSED ME—YOU APOLOGISED—YOU SAID, I AM SORRY, DESTROY ME AS I AM, BUT I WANT TO KISS YOU BEFORE I AM KILLED, AND I SAID TO YOU WHY, AND YOU SAID, BECAUSE I HAVE ONLY ONCE MET SOMEONE SO UTTERLY WILLING TO BURN FOR WHAT THEY BELIEVED IN, AND I LOVED HIM ON SIGHT, AND THE FIRST TIME I DIED I ASKED OF HIM WHAT I NOW ASK OF YOU” also this one. anyways vote commander wake

Awake Remembrance of These Valiant Dead Kia Hua Ko Te Pai Snap Back to Reality Oops There Goes Gravity is commonly called Commander Wake. Her people are being colonized and oppressed by the Emperor Undying, the immortal emperor of a society of necromancers. Commander Wake is the leader of the resistance against this occupying force. As for her character: Commander Wake is unscrupulous and unyielding, definitely more prone to "the power of incredible violence" than "the power of love". She will use any methods at her disposal to fight back against the necromancers. She is described as proud and unforgiving. She never backs down and her strength of will and determination are unmatched. Some of her girlboss moments (spoilers for the entire The Locked Tomb book series): She is the only one the Emperor and his people consider a worthy foe. She colludes with the Emperor's most trusted soldiers and in fact has sex with two of them (who share a body but that's not important right now). She needs the Emperor's blood to defeat him, so she gets her colluding buddies to get her some of his semen to grow a child. When it doesn't go quite to plan, she simply decides to carry the child herself, fully intending to kill it for its blood when it is born. After she is killed, she haunts a sword (and the narrative) for years and years. Later she possesses a corpse and comes face to face with the Emperor, where she proceeds to argue with him about his warcrimes and never backs down. The woman she slept with is still obsessed with her a full book after her double-death. She had no necromantic powers but with technology and military strategy worked to understand and mitigate how necromancy works and what it can and cant do. She insists that the Emperor Undying use her full name, to his face, even when she is completely at his mercy! Her determination is strong enough to bend the genre of an entire haunted dream to her will! When the necromancers come at her with swords she comes at them with. Gun

John Gaius, His Celestial Kindliness, the First Reborn, and The Necrolord Prime

John Gaius, His Celestial Kindliness, the First Reborn, and The Necrolord Prime is the Emperor and primary deity of The Nine Houses. He is perhaps (major spoilers for The Locked Tomb) not technically a girl, but by god does he - Gaslight (Erasing his friends' memories then telling them lies about their past and imposing his perceptions of their personalities onto them) - Gatekeep (Telling his closest followers they need to kill their life partners in order to become immortal WHICH IS NOT EVEN TRUE. John keeps the method of how HE became immortal a secret from them!) - GIRLBOSS (creates a multi-planetary society that worships him as a God) He is also morally grey: He necromantically resurrected millions of people after a planet-wide cataclysm. He caused said cataclysm by nuking the earth. He only nuked the earth because he wanted to stop the billionaires from escaping the planet, because in doing so they left everyone else to die. He wanted to save everyone. He loves the Earth. Even though he is a man he is SUCH a morally ambiguous girlboss

Prince Ianthe Naberius the First, the Lyctor Prince, the Saint of Awe, previously known as Ianthe Tridentarius, the Princess of Ida, heir to the House of the Third, Mouth of the Emperor, the Procession, House of the Shining Dead:

shes tall pale and has no ass. she has the ability to manipulate her fat distribution so she chooses to look like a wet cat. everybody forgets about her because her sister is so hot, but while everyone else is fucking around and trying to figure out whose been killing people, shes been figuring out the secrets to an ancient necromantic theorem. it turns out her hot sister isnt actually a necromancer and ianthe has been doing the work of two necromancers her whole life. she regularly does cannibalism. she eats the soul of her cavalier, who nobody cares about, and becomes a saint of the king undying. her sister is deeply upset that she did not eat her. she gets her arm ripped off by one of the original states. she performs a lobotomy on one of the main protagonists because she asks her to. they have immensely homoerotic tension but its entirely one sided. she cries every night. her soup recipe amounts to burning onions on the bottom of a pot. the scene in which said main protagonists creates her an arm out of bones is the closest the series has to a sex scene. she meets the other main protagonist and says "but your fist is so large and my ass is so small". she stops god from being killed, which everybody hates. in the space between books, she has a terrible terrible no good friend ship with the main protagonist i mentioned before. i love it. they probably fucked and it involved chussy. they have friendship bracelets. she possesses the body of her dead cavalier who nobody cares about to gallivant around in. shes dangerously obsessed with her sister, who after not being eaten has been radicalised and now is a leader in an insurgent cell. she is the target of "then perish" during the epilogue. apparently in the next book she is going to do something horrible. i love her immensely. she has very few redeeming qualities. she is my best friend

listen. she ate a man's heart to become immortal. she is described as the shadow of her twin sister. she calls the protag a fruitcake. she will betray anyone and anything to get what she wants.

Wet Rat who sucks commits cannibalism for won her way through the lyctor olympics of the first books ate her cavalier to go to gods party swinger yatch. She has no fucking idea of what she's doing but she's slaying all day everyday, literally and figuratively. Made everyone believe that her twin sister was a super good necromancer while her sister has no powers by necromancing for her in secret. Idk she's just. She's just so.

The uglier of the supposed pair of the genius necromantic princess twins. Jk, she’s the only necromantic one she's just so good she seems like two geniuses combined, she flies under the radar, doesn't take part in gruesome lessons on powerful necromancy but just figures everything out by thinking alone, kills a dude she known her whole life the moment she learns it will give her more political and magic power, does a truly villainous monolouge when caught for that murder cause who cares about a male dying why are you so mad. Then later murders her much stronger beloved mentor the minute she's asked to gain even more power and prestige and from a princess of one planet becomes a saint and prince and military powerhouse of a divine empire, loyal only as long as her hotter twin sister is safe, truly an inspiration for all feminists everywhere

Harrowhark Nonagesimus was submitted without propaganda.

#the locked tomb

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chaoticgeminate · 2 years ago

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Truths and Divides

Part of the Iridescence Fictional Universe |Hunter’s Gambit Series Part Four

Werewolf!Francisco Morales x Selkie f!ReaderRating: M Word Count: 3.2k

Series Summary: The local Selkie pod hires Frankie and the boys to track down missing members who ventured outside the sea-side area of the city, reader comes with them to make sure the missing selkie come home. They end up tracking down something more dangerous to all of the shifting people.

Chapter Summary: Family secrets come to light and you have to make a choice.

[AO3]

You couldn’t be sure how you knew it was Frankie but you did, you could feel anger that wasn’t just your own sitting heavy as a stone in your gut, and in the moment of distraction from the sound you lashed out with your free fist and aimed right for Gavin’s face since he’d lowered his head to try and snarl at you before your Pappy grabbed him. His head snapped to the side and you felt the ache in your knuckles but the grip he had on you loosened just enough and you practically hurled yourself backward, two strong arms stopping you from landing on the ground as Frankie’s half-changed form moved between you and the enraged bull.

You half expected a bloodbath but instead Frankie was moving back with you, acting like a shield as Will gently tugged you toward the SUV, and you watched the pups scamper over toward your sisters while staring wide-eyed at their father. But your Pappy heaved a loud sigh and shoved Gavin hard, the bull staggering to the ground as a large boot was pressed between his shoulder blades, and you knew the entire pod was on edge given the show of strength that the former Alpha often avoided using.

“So that’s what is happening.” His remark was not enlightening at all, wrinkled face scanning Frankie’s hunched over form as the werewolf crouched so he was on all fours and more of his frame was protecting you. Your Nana regarded him with a look that screamed ‘I told you so’ before she sighed and turned her eyes on Frankie too.

“What are you talking about?” Your voice sounded stronger than you felt at least but having the full weight of your Pappy’s stare on you like this felt threatening, the joy in his usual expression so muted that it was almost gone. Frankie snarled quite loudly and Santiago snapped his jaws loud enough that his teeth clacked, some sort of warning?

“Your Mama and I are from the Faldes Point Pod, my dear one, we left our home behind because we fell in love.” Nana Caoimhe was the one to answer your question and her expression was resigned and weary, making you wonder what that had to do with you.

“What your Nana means is that she, and your mother, vowed to follow our ways and chose to leave their birth pod behind even though they are shifters and not were-kin. You were born a selkie but it appears you are like your mother, which is why that werewolf there is up in arms, you were chosen to be his Mate by the Huntress because your magic is different than ours.” This was spoken by Elder Malcolm as the smaller bull looked you over again, his expression openly hostile.

“So that means you must choose what you’re going to do. Submit to our ways and allow one of our bulls to mate you or be excommunicated.” Elder Reagan’s voice was so smug and her expression was one of victory as she watched you but that confusion and anger blooming in your gut only compounded. All because you were a shifter you were expected to give up your family, your home, and they’d never even thought to tell you?

“Why didn’t you ever tell me this was a possibility? Give me one good reason you kept this from me, because clearly four of you knew it could happen.” Your Pappy regarded you now with something akin to frustration, your Nana was shaking her head off to the side, and both of the other Elders were practically laughing at you.

“You are born of our pod, I expected you to accept our ways, the ways that you were taught growing up, I never foresaw you resenting our way of life.” Your Pappy’s tone was careful, guarded even, and that was all it took for your temper to become uncontrollable.

“So you never told me because you thought there was no chance of anyone learning how barbaric the pod’s way of life actually is? No, I don’t believe you, I’m not going to let you use that as an excuse.” Frankie was hovering but not in a way that felt overbearing, his presence was steady and with him and his pack there at your back you felt strong. You felt more like you belonged with them than you’d ever felt like you’d belonged with your pod, which you knew would be jarring to accept later but right now your adrenaline was keeping the anger and the fight in you going.

“I think you never told me because you thought you could get me mated off to Gavin before I found out, that way by the time I did find out it would be almost impossible to do anything about it if I was unhappy.” Watching the man who basically raised you duck his head, fully admitting that you were right without doing so vocally, only made you feel even more outraged than before and Frankie’s growl was muted by your outraged hiss that bloomed into a full growl.

Your grandfather’s entire body language changed, aggressive in response to your aggression, and for the first time in your life you didn’t back down from the show of power and instead decided that you were done with all of it. You had tried so hard to fight for everyone in your pod, for all the cows and pups to be allowed to be free, but as the only one fighting you were exhausted. If they wanted to live this way that was their choice.

“I’m leaving the pod then, by my own will. I’m more than my ability to have pups and I refuse to bow my head to a lifestyle I don’t believe is right.” You didn’t have a backup plan for where you were going to stay tonight but you knew that if you showed up on Bronwyn’s door your best friend would happily allow you to stay, the revelation that you were Frankie’s chosen mate wasn’t lost on you but there was no way you could parse that right now, and the werewolf seemed like he more than understood since he hadn’t actually touched you so much as shielded you.

“Very well. You have an hour to fetch anything of value from your room, anything left behind will be given to the pups and cows. The werewolves are not allowed back into this dwelling.” The cold reply was delivered and Gavin was allowed to stand up at last, his hulking form still aggressive, and your fingers flexed into a fist before you nodded. Will placed his hand gently on your shoulder and you felt him slip something into your back pocket, the bottom of your coat falling back over the indent, and you didn’t glance back at him to avoid giving him away.

“Fine.” With that you walked, head high, through the staring onlookers of your pod as many of the bulls began to whisper while the cows and pups openly held looks of fear. You had been the sole member of the pod that would intervene when bulls were being rude or screaming at their mates, you would try to protect them and show them that they weren’t as weak as they were raised to believe, and you knew that leaving was only going to make things worse for them but you couldn’t fight their battle if they didn’t fight too.

Your room was tidy enough, at least, and you grabbed the over sized duffel bag that was used for mating season when you would flee to Bronwyn’s place; you didn’t have enough time or space to grab everything but you didn’t really keep much given that you only had one room of your own. The most important things (picture albums, your instant shot camera and spare film cases, laptop, charger cables, and books) were the priority, then you began layering whatever clothes you could fit over top of it all.

“You’re leaving us?” Riona’s eyes were red-rimmed and wet, slightly hunched in her posture, and you nodded before returning to what you were doing.

“Of course she is, Ri, but I don’t blame her. I’ve been- Saraya has a place for you in the Faldes Point Pod, if you want it. She’s offered us a place too.” Marnie set another large bag down, this one was definitely made by hand out of layered fishing nets, and you thanked her softly as she began helping to pack and fold your clothes with you. The fact that Marnie had been talking to Saraya at all came as a surprise but considering leaving the pod? At your surprised look your eldest sister smiled, nudging you gently.

“You’re right, when you say that we’re more than our ability to have pups, and if the Elders won’t allow change to happen then why should I stay?” Riona made a soft noise and looked aghast at the idea, the youngest of your three older sisters and closest to you in age but the first to have accepted Gavin’s courting.

Kara hovered just behind Riona, looking nervous, and you stood up once all your personal things had been packed fully. Bedding was provided by the pod, as were the hangers in the closet and all the furniture, so your room looked the same as any empty room in the refurbished hotel by the time you were done.

“If Frankie and the others haven’t already left to bring Saraya’s pups back to them I’ll go with them.” It wouldn’t be a long walk to the street where you could catch a bus, even if you sort of knew that Frankie wouldn’t leave you here, and you hugged each of your sisters tightly.

“You could apologize, and stay, it’s not so bad-“

“Riona, enough. Your sister has every right to leave, even if she weren’t a shifter, and you should be happy for her. You can visit her, she’s still family, the Elders can’t hold us hostage here.” Marnie’s voice was stern as she stopped Riona from trying to sway you, only making Riona burst into tears, and as much as it hurt to leave her like that you knew that it would be best to just walk away now. You stepped out of the elevator to hear vicious snarling, bolting to the door to see Frankie being restrained by Will and Benny who were both half changed while Gavin was smirking.

You knew he’d said something to antagonize Frankie and your displeased hiss made the larger bull tip his head slightly to look at you. But Gavin made one, very dumb, mistake by taking a step closer and attempting to grab you again. With Marnie carrying your bags your hands were free, you knew Will had stuck a charged crystal in your back pocket with a shielding spell that would activate if you touched the crystal, but you also weren’t weak.

Bronwyn might have just been a shop owner for her clothing line but she’d also grown up the daughter of a Sidhe warrior that survived the Sundering, those lessons she’d learned had been passed on to you, and Gavin’s attempted grab turned into the bull gagging when your fist connected with his throat before you spun your body just enough to deliver a kick to his mid section that made him fall backward.

“If he does anything to any of you three or the pups let me know.” Your request to Marnie was met with a serious nod as you accepted your bags, not at all expecting Santiago or Tom to hustle over and grab them from you, but Frankie’s large body was back at your side as Benny and Will disappeared behind the tree line. Tom picked up the discarded and torn fabric and you looked at your grandfather one last time, his expression like ice, and your Nana walked over before pressing a kiss to your forehead when you ducked down.

“I’m proud of you, dear one, and I love you so much. Be safe.”

“I will, Nana. I love you too.”

With the final goodbye said you got into the SUV, greeting the four exhausted pups with a soft voice, and you weren’t at all surprised when Lottie let out a sleepy little bark before she was reaching for you. It was easy to pull her into your arms, being as young as she was it was instinctual to cling to an adult cow, and Yulia curled to your side as Maren cuddled close to your others side while Kaden cuddled with his twin. Will and Benny slipped into the seat row in front of you with Santiago, you watched Frankie slide into the driver’s seat with Tom in the passenger spot.

“Everyone okay?” Santiago’s check in made you perk up and he turned his head to look at you as the SUV began rumbling down the gravel path.

“I’m okay, Santiago, and the pups are too. Frankie are you- we’re okay?” The rumbling noise you received in reply earned a soft exhale from Benny.

“Fish, she ain’t versed in wolf yet. That’s means yes, to translate.” Benny’s grin made you smile too and Tom chuckled gently from where he was sitting, but you felt the strange stirring in your gut that was mot definitely Frankie’s emotions and while it was slightly comforting to feel the way his tension was easing the further you got it was also terrifying.

“You got a place to go?” Will’s question was soft but you could tell he was being careful with it, eyes on Frankie instead of you, and for a moment you wondered if you did. It was pretty clear that Frankie would give you a place at the drop of a hat, be it on his couch or a guest room or whatever his place could accommodate, but it was way too quick for you to consider it.

Mate or not you needed time to understand what you now needed to learn about yourself and about what it meant to be bonded to a werewolf.

“I’m going to talk with Saraya, find out why she never said anything, but I think I’m going to ask to stay with the Faldes Point Pod if I’m allowed. I’m- I need to be near the sea right now.” The idea of taking a good, long, swim was something you couldn’t pass up and the call of the bay waters was growing stronger the more you thought about the ebb and flow of the waves and the cool clear water.

Frankie made another soft noise and you looked at Benny, hoping for a translation, and the younger werewolf smiled gently.

“He can feel the way you’re itching to shift, it’s making him want to change again, but he’s not exactly the most graceful in water even though we call him Fish.” You barked out a surprised laugh and it felt good to just release some of the emotions currently at war in your heart, the amusement and joy of learning about the pack would probably only keep you uplifted for so long before the dust settled.

“We’re here, or if you want to tell us to pound sand you can, I won’t- you may have been chosen for me by the Huntress but I’m not going to force you to follow my customs if you don’t want to.” Frankie’s voice was more growl than words but you understood it, mostly, and you looked up at where he was glancing at you in the rear view.

“I appreciate that but I don’t- I want to get to know you before I make that call Frankie.” He hummed and pulled into the parking lot of the houses carved into the cliff wall where the Faldes Point Pod lived, you heard from Saraya that apparently the pod had been chosen and named by the Deity of the Glennrior Bay centuries ago and her Dragon mate had built them the homes in the cliff wall to protect the pod during the fallout of the Sundering.

To this day it was a spectacle of magic and craftsmanship, seeing the stone arches and windows in the cliff wall, the glass enchanted for security and for privacy, and the entryway stone doors opened quietly despite their appearance before you spotted several cows hurrying over.

“Lottie, my baby girl.” You recognized Haven, the sleek selkie had a breathy voice when she spoke but when she sang it was so rich and deep, and Lottie crooned as you handed her off to her mother. Kaden and Maren hurried over to their dad and mom while Yulia openly cried as she ran into her parent’s embrace.

“Thank you, for bringing them home.” Saraya’s eyes were wet with tears and you watched Frankie nod, feeling his eyes shift to you.

“Hey, Saraya… did you- did you know my mother and Nana were members of the Faldes Point Pod?” You watched the other cow tip her head slightly and look over at another, this one was older than both of you most likely, and this woman nodded gently before walking over.

“Saraya didn’t, we never told her even when she became Matriarch because Caoimhe and your mother left the pod by choice, but your pod wouldn’t let me come visit and I didn’t want to risk alienating you by telling you that we were relatives. Your mama is my niece, her mama passed away due to illness and her papa followed after from heartbreak, I made sure to raise her right but she fell in love with your Pa and chose him over staying.” The woman reminded you of your mother, you could see a minor resemblance, and then she grabbed a locket and flipped it open to show you a very clear picture of your mother as a little girl.

Tears sprang up into your eyes before you could stop yourself, you didn’t have really much of anything of theirs because of how the pod law had worked that their belongings were divvied up to those that needed them over sentimental value, and seeing your mother like this was something you didn’t have.

Frankie’s hand was gentle on your waist and you felt him peeking over your shoulder, it made you tilt the locket so he could get a better view.

“I- I chose to leave my pod. They were, well, they were going to force me to mate with Gavin against my will.” Saraya and the older cow exchanged looks before your dark haired selkie friend opened her arms.

“Well you have a home here, with us, you’re family we chose and now I’m learning you’re family by blood.” You handed the locket back before sliding into Saraya’s arms and letting her hug you close, the well of emotions finally hitting you as the tears started, so it was fairly quickly that your bags were handed to a bull from the pod and the pack were invited to stay the night in the guest rooms.

Saraya led you to your new room, which was bigger than your last one and so vibrant despite the dark stone, the ceiling was nothing but jagged gleaming crystals casting prisms and reflections around the room, but you didn’t feel lost. Saraya laid with you as you cried out all of the ugly emotions, neither of you reacting when Frankie’s fully changed form stepped into the room, and you patted the bed behind you and smiled when he climbed up and curled against your back.

All Fics Taglist: @hardc0rehaylz @wordsnwhiskey @pagannightwitch @radiowallet @musings-of-a-rose @amneris21 @trickstersp8 @practicalghost @rominaszh @alwaysdjarin @alexxavicry

Just Pedro Taglist: @maievdenoir @beecastle @littlemisspascal @writeforfandoms @aynsleywalker @lovesbiggerthanpride @mswarriorbabe80

Alt Taglist: @imtryingmybeskar @fan-of-encouragement @grogusmum @sizzlingcloudmentality @deadhumourist @prostitute-robot-from-the-future

#chaoticwrites #iridescence fictional universe #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x f!reader #werewolf!frankie #selkie f!reader #hunter's gambit #francisco morales x f!reader

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loupettes · 3 years ago

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Hi! I Just read your comment on the Doomsday scene where Ten explains Rose his plan for sending her to the alternate universe. Thank you very much, I enjoyed it!

How would you interpret Ten's reaction when Rose comes back? He is, once again, a little annoyed, to the point of being very rude. Yes, we know he is rude and not ginger, but he seems way too rude towards Rose (I mean, she has just come back and told you she chose you, you still might lose her... why be that rude?)

TIA!

Hey!! Thank you for sending me this ☺️ I’m glad you liked my ramblings... because there's far too much for me to say and I only beg a space to ramble 😂 to say!

So the thing with that moment, to me anyway, is you realise here how much he genuinely doesn’t believe her when she says forever. Like, for now? Yes, of course she wants to stay with him. He’s showing her the universe and she loves it, she says she’s going to travel with him forever and he’s more than happy for her to.

That doesn’t mean he believes her.

She’s 20, of course she loves it now... but what about in ten years? What about when she realises she wants a family of her own? What about when her own family starts to need her? He wants her to stay with him forever, but he doesn’t believe her when she says she will.

So when she comes back, he’s so confused. He’s not angry at all, he just... doesn’t get why she’s come back when she had everything over there.

Her dad!! Her mum — Mickey! They’re all over there now, her whole life, her entire family, so why the heck has she come back?

That’s why he starts yelling at her, because she just doesn’t get the big picture.

Yes, forever is lovely, and yes he would grab it with everything he had if she offered it, but it has to be her choice. She has to have thought about it fully, not just promised the rest of her life the moment she sees pretty skies and all the wonderful things he can show her while her life waits for her back home.

Ideally, he would have never made her choose. You can tell how much he hated domestics at first, but he had slowly started to adapt in order to give her all the stars and her life back on Earth. Nine was asking Rose to pick between Shepherd’s Pie or a plasma storm way back at the very beginning, but, by the end, Ten was trying to give her both. But if it came down to it, the Doctor assumes the only thing Rose would want in the whole world is the only thing he would want: a family. So to him, it’s a no brainer; Rose would, if it came down to it, choose her family.

But the thing is, she chose him! And she tells him calmly here, firmly, that that’s her choice. And I have a feeling this isn’t the first time she’s told him she’s never going to leave him, because it’s almost like she’s just trying to get him to listen.

So he’s completely... speechless. She really, genuinely has thought this through — she knows very well that she will never be able to see her mum again (your own mother!), she won’t have a chance to get to know her dad or live her happy human life as a family because she wants him instead.

All he wants is a family, and all she wants is him. She’s his family, she’s all he has and she’s choosing him, too! And it is him that she wants, not just the travelling — and I think this is the first time he really hears that, too. He hears her when she says forever, and now he’s hearing her say forever with him.

The woman he loves — the woman he thought could never seriously love love him and chose him above everything else — has just told him otherwise. He’s finally seeing it, finally starting to believe it, and, in true Ten style... he avoids confronting what that means.

I get his anger here, too — I don’t understand it, because he’s just got given everything he wants, but it’s completely in his character to react angrily to something he vehemently doesn’t want but can’t do anything about. Honestly, he’s probably not all that excited that she’s come back, because he knows how dangerous it’s going to be over here. And this isn’t one of those moments where we can say ‘for god’s sake Ten it’s going to be alright!!’ because it isn’t going to be alright — she does fall. He was right, she wasn’t safe on this side, and it was only by sheer chance that Pete was able to grab her before she fell. So from the Doctor’s perspective, she’s put herself in an impossible amount of danger — which usually he wouldn't object to, except she’s doing it because of him. He doesn’t like it, he doesn’t like that yet another person is risking their lives and choosing him over their own safety, but she’s proven to him so many times how serious she is about staying and now he has to be the reason she lost her whole family. And he especially doesn't like the fact that this is, really, what he wanted, too. Of course he would never just... accept that she’s her own person with her own choices and this isn’t his fault, because Ten’s the ‘man who regrets’. But it explains a bit more why he’s so angry in this scene — at least, I think?!

Anyway, that's my take! I’d love to hear your thoughts!! ♥️ (and thanks for the ask again, I’m honoured you enjoyed reading my last one!)

#gosh I've forgotten how much I love doing these 😂😂#dw meta #doctor who meta #ten x rose #tenth doctor #rose tyler #loup.tag #doomsday

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tunafishprincess · 3 years ago

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Belated Prize for @swamp-spirit

Tomura Shigaraki’s life hadn’t been an easy one. Ever since his Quirk emerged things had gone to hell and back again. His path in life was as crooked and strange as he was, an endless amount of possibilities always at the forefront of his mind. He wondered how he would have turned out in another life. Would he have made the same choices?

Would he have met him?

Perhaps not. After all, Tomura didn’t go looking for ghosts. No, despite his deathly hands, he had no interest in the afterlife. He knew where he’d land in the end anyways. There was no fixing that outcome. That didn’t mean ghosts didn’t find him, however, like the one who appeared the same day Sensei took his hand.

The young male seemed to be somewhere in his late teens or twenties. It was hard to say given how emasculated his appearance was. His outfit wasn’t anything special, a white or gray shirt with identical pants. His green eyes stood out the most, glowing and filled with emotion.

Tomura thought he was seeing things at first. Scratching and rubbing at his itchy eyes did nothing to relieve him of the apparition, however. No matter how many days, months, and years flew past; the spirit always lingered around.

Even as a child he knew the man wasn’t alive, his body faded and transparent. He never spoke, not directly, but Tomura had learned to read the other’s body over the years, the arch of his brow whenever he seemed interested in something, the narrower eyes that reminded him of Sensei’s when he screwed up—he and the spirit had developed a language of understanding.

When he learned to read, the Ghost taught him how to spell his own name, a secret between them. It would be the first of many, Tomura came to find. Not that he minded. There were far worse things after all.

Growing up under Sensei’s tutelage was rough. He recalled intentionally screwing up more than once. As much as he hated risking Sensei’s punishments, the care he received afterward from his ghostly friend more than made up for it. The spirit’s nonsensical whispers were a balm on his inner and outer wounds, his hands against the boy’s bruised face achingly familiar. Tomura would close his eyes and pretend it was his mother, soaking in the other’s affection like a dry sponge.

Time under Sensei felt like an instant one year and an eternity the next. Tomura used his time wisely though, learning his spirit’s secrets along the way. The news that he was Sensei’s younger brother, a fact later confirmed by a photo he saw on Sensei’s desk, still surprised him. It made sense, however. On accident, he’d asked his teacher how the other died.

That was the first time he learned not to question Sensei’s past or talk about the Spirit.

It wouldn’t be the last time, sadly.

By the time he’d entered his teens, he and Sensei’s relationship had changed. He dictated how Tomura wore his hair, what clothes he should wear, which shoes to fill...As his role grew more defined so too did the tasks Sensei gave him, like who to kill, and how hero society was corrupt and needed to be changed. He didn’t disagree with the last sentiment, but his sense of identity was his. An ugly, dark part of him wondered if Sensei’s affection was for him or someone else.

The apparition’s eyes told him all he needed to know.

Sensei’s accident cemented his resolve. Sensei’s words about succession seemed less about Tomura and more about Sensei himself. Rummaging through the doctor’s files cemented this viewpoint. He destroyed the entire room when he’d found out, though whether it was out of anger or to hide the evidence was anyone’s guess.

It felt like ages since he’d arrived in this small, windowless apartment Sensei restricted him to when he wasn’t around. He could come and go to the bar with Kurogiri as he pleased, but his last tantrum, as Sensei called it, had severely limited his options.

A tantrum. Tomura inwardly scowled at the word. As if he were a child.

The constant hum of the air conditioning could not hide Tomura’s angry footfalls as he scoured the room, his mind made up. Terror and excitement pumped through his veins. Sensei might have forgiven his previous transgression but what he was planning now would no doubt make him Nomu food. And yet…

Even that was preferable to the body-stealing plans Sensei and the Doctor was putting together. What a twist. Here Tomura thought he was the Player when it was he who was being played. If this were a video game he would have thrown the control against the screen for such a ridiculous trope.

Tomura sighed. His neck burned, begging for his fingers to relieve the ache. He resisted. His attention was needed elsewhere. Scanning the room, he mentally cataloged all the items he needed for his quest. Once satisfied, he turned to the wall. His backpack hung heavy over his shoulders. Video games, snacks, his family, a change of clothes, and money were the only things he thought best to take with him. Sensei would track him on his laptop and phone. Rage bubbled within him. He instinctively cracked his fingers.

Sensei promised him the world but whose world was that? Certainly not his. Tomura wanted to destroy this disgusting, hero-worshipping hellhole. He wanted the freedom to choose what he did and when he did it without the fear of some hero using Tomura as a stepping stone to their climb up the Professional Hero Social Ladder.

Suffice to say, he hated hero society. Hell, he hated society in general. Sensei was different--had been different. Sensei loved society like an egocentric kid with an ant farm. Power was a drug to him and dominance the brew he drank most often. Essentially, Sensei adored control as much as Tomura adored video games, fascinated by what he could do with the human psyche, something Tomura was both a witness and victim to in time.

He lifted his gaze to the wall.

No more.

He might only be sixteen but the spirit’s encouragement gave him enough confidence to choose for himself for once. Sensei could have his world. Tomura would have his as well.

He placed four fingers against the wall, thumb centimeters from the plaster.

In the peripheral vision, the ghost’s feeble hands rested on his shoulders, determination in his brow. It hit Tomura that they probably looked more like brothers than he and Sensei ever did. His lips tugged upwards. How ironic. No wonder Sensei wanted his body as a puppet. He fixed his gaze on his partner in crime.

“Oi. You ready, Yoichi?”

Behind the curtain of white hair, the spirit smiled back. His hand formed the universal sign for ‘yes’.

His thumb joined the rest of his fingers. Almost immediately the barrier crumbled beneath his hand, peeling back from it like a flower. At one point Tomura had feared his power. Now, he accepted it as part of himself. He never would have learned to control it if it hadn’t been for his ghostly companion.

Tomura wouldn’t have learned a lot of things really.

Sunlight blared down, a cold rush of spring air nipping his nose. In the distance, he spotted a few trees already in bloom. He blinked rapidly, jaw tightening. How surprising. The last time he’d been outside had been in late Autumn.

The sounds of the city below soothed his rampaging heart. He was only up a few stories, the other buildings still level with him. If he’d been on a skyscraper he never would have gotten down, he thought morosely. Not without dying at least. He breathed in the scent of garbage and city smog then coughed. It was disgusting and he reveled in it. Now he understood why people made such a big deal out of Freedom.

He could be anything he wanted now. His own villain, vigilante---definitely not a hero, though. Maybe he’d start his own organization. The possibilities were endless.

“Let’s go,” Tomura finished, taking three big steps back.

Video game characters always made jumping look so easy. Tomura was smarter than that though. If he missed the landing he could end up breaking something or hell, killing himself. There weren’t any cheat codes or revivals to save him either. His eyes darted around, searching for the best angle and stable ground. Once discovered, he made his move, throwing himself into a running start. His jump to the next roof was clumsy and awkward, so much so he stumbled to his knees, but he continued forward.

For that was the only path left now.

#bnha #mha #yoichi shigaraki #tomura shigaraki #mha fanfic #prize #contest winner prize

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ariaadagio · 3 years ago

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Thoughts about S6

This is gonna be a little all over the place. Just me rambling, really.

So, I went up to LA to watch the show with some fandom friends on Friday. We had an absolute blast. I loved the finale season of the show. LOVED. I had some quibbles, of course, but none worth lingering on at length. I know the ending was controversial for some, but not for me. It worked on all levels.

I didn’t have much love for the end of 5B (I know, y’all are probably shocked, given some of the things I’ve written re: Lucifer becoming God or godlike) which is why I never really chimed in on the post-5B discussion. I just couldn’t muster much enthusiasm about it, and I didn’t want to froth about or hate on it when other people were having fun and gushing.

But my main issues at the time involved: Lucifer suddenly wanting to become God felt poorly setup and unearned, and Chloe suddenly quitting the force to support Lucifer becoming God felt incredibly impulsive, perhaps almost out of character.

S6 not only was perfect for me in its own right, it actually went back and fixed my S5B issues retrospectively. Lucifer suddenly wanting to become God felt poorly setup because it WAS poorly set up. On purpose. He never actually wanted to be God. It wasn’t his calling. And Chloe dropping her Detective job so suddenly WAS impulsive. On purpose. She really didn’t think that one through and ended up being bored out of her fucking mind without that job to engage her problem-solving brain. So ... kudos to the writers for that. I am so pleasantly surprised by that backtracking and never expected it.

As far as season 6 goes ... oh my gosh, what a brilliant roller coaster. Like @tarysande, I also spent a large portion of the season wondering what the evil trick was with Rory. I didn’t trust ANYTHING she said for many episodes. I kept waiting for a shoe to drop that never did. I really appreciate that Deckerstar did not get married—I never felt like a marriage was necessary for them given where they were in their life (a divorcee and a Devil who isn’t beholden to human constructs of law). I actively did not want a Deckerstar baby, but the show did it in a way I found absolutely lovely. Rather than using Rory as a magical “happily ever after” button as so many shows do, she was a tool to create massive character growth in Lucifer, and I am so on board with that.

I cried during this season. Frequently. Which is something that rarely happens for me when watching or reading fiction. I am just ... so stupidly emotionally involved in these great characters.

Some people may fixate on the separation between Lucifer and Chloe until her death, but to me ... it worked. Lucifer found a higher purpose and chose to fulfill it, to keep his promise to his daughter—to be a better father for Rory than his father was for him—and he does still ultimately get a “happily ever after” with his family and friends and dearest loved ones. It just starts a little later than planned. Chloe, meanwhile, gets to live her life knowing without doubt the love of her life is not only okay & pursuing his calling, he’s waiting for her on the flip side. They’ll have eternity together—ETERNITY, in exchange for a few decades apart. Bittersweet? Yes. Tragic? No. So I am okay with this. This is a level of certainty no real human ever gets—and as someone with zero certainty about the future whatsoever, I can’t express enough how much this foreknowledge alone would be a comfort in difficult times. It really resonates with me as a meaningful gift.

I do agree that there’s plenty of room for Lucifer to see Chloe without Rory’s knowledge, though I’m on the fence about how realistic this is. I think Dan called it, honestly. Having to watch and not participate is more torturous than not participating at all. And, as I said, he gets to see everybody eventually. He knows his daughter will understand—actively consents, even—and he knows their reunion will come. He knows Chloe will come back to him, too, because he’s grown to trust and love her fully.

Along those lines, Lucifer showed amazing character development this year. Once this man figures out his feelings and commits, he is ALL IN. I was so proud of him, talking out his feelings, and saying I love you, and hugging people left and right. His goodbyes made me tear up, particularly the scene with Maze. Which. OMG. These two. That scene was a long time coming, and so heartfelt. i loved it. I also loved how comfortable in his own skin he finally seemed this season. He utilized his wings SO MUCH. And his devil face where appropriate. And there was zero angst about any of it.

Time travel is a trope that tends to break my brain, but ... I think Rory showing up is what enabled her own conception. Lucifer didn’t think he could have kids until he finds out he does in the future and then boom, suddenly he can conceive. He self-actualized working swimmers. I know this creates a chicken or the egg paradox—how could this loop ever even start if Rory hadn’t existed at least once on her own—buuut, I’ve definitely seen this trope used in other shows, such as Netflix’s Dark. So, imho, there was an added level to Lucifer’s sacrifice at the end—he wasn’t just trying to preserve his own epiphany via a promise to his daughter, he was actively choosing to save his daughter’s entire existence, and he was choosing to be different from his father.

People who think Lucifer was robbed of choice ... I beg to differ. For the reasons stated above, and also? He was the one who came up with the idea of returning to Hell. No one forced that on him. The only thing Rory did was speed up his time table. And I think there’s a beautiful kind of symmetry to the idea of him returning to Hell and choosing to reframe it as a place of healing, rather than eternal suffering. In a sense, he’s making his own Plan for himself. He’s defining his role in the universe: the Devil, not God. He’s defining his family: Chloe, Rory, Trixie, Dan, Maze, Eve, Linda, Amenadiel, Ella, and all the great friends he’s made. He’s defining his home: not a place, but where his heart is. For the first time in his life, the Devil decided who he is and what he wants to do with his life, instead of letting external forces do it for him.

And I fucking loved every minute of it.

A perfect ending for a long, thoughtful journey.

P.S. If you disagree with me, that’s fine. There’s no wrong way to interpret art and media. But please know I’m not really in the mindset for debate right now. I just want to live in my happy post-S6 bubble. I’d appreciate it if you let me :)

#lucifer meta #lucifer on netflix #lucifer s6 spoilers

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jadedxrealityw · 3 years ago

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-Found You- Dean Thomas x Reader

☼-♥-☼

Kody: (SHORT STORY) using gender neutral pronouns for the first time with my first ever Dean Thomas reader, tell me what you think. Also made sure to include androgynous type clothes.

Movie/Show: Harry Potter

House/Year: Gryffindor, 7th year

Summary: after being abandoned by your friends in your first year of Hogwarts, you meet a weird lot of boys who fill the void the others had left, some more then others and when you almost kiss one of them, it becomes more then awkward.

Pronouns Used: They/Them

Possible Triggers/Warnings: suggestive flirting, gen z humor, cursing, the fluff, no voldy au, slight golden trio slander with redemption, reader staring off into space.

☼-♥-☼

first year

the day you were placed in house Gryffindor you had become close to a few choice people, Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley, and Harry Potter. Your four were as close as close could be in the beginning of your first year, playing pranks, studying in the common room. All of the things friends would do.

towards the end of the year you had caught them hanging out without you on mutiple occasions when they said they were all busy on other occasions. It didn’t bother you at first, thinking a was a one off- multiple one offs. Then it got a bit worse.

study groups turned into you waiting for hours for them to show up, only for you to fall asleep on top of your textbooks waiting. Getting breakfast together now was just you sitting at the end of the Gryffindor table only for George Weasley to tell you they had already ate and left.

you weren’t stupid, you knew when you were being avoided. You also were never one for confrontation, so you made the executive decision to stop making an effort to hang out with any of them, just to see if they would and maybe everything you were thinking was just from your paranoia.

alas it was the end of the school year and you couldn’t do much hanging out with anyone since your mother was strict, only allowing friends to come over to your place, not the other way around. It was embarrassing at times, but you understood all her rules came from a place of love and experience.

not that they had ever come over before, even for the winter holiday. Though you understood that as all of you went home to your families. (Yes, James and Lily are alive), but since you all had two months out of school, you figured there would be enough time to at least meet up once.

you had each of there mailing address’s and they had yours. It was the first ‘gift’ you had given to each other and at the time, you were excited to have them. Now when you looked at the the ripped piece of parchment, it’s mere existence mocked you.

as you predicted, nothing came. No letter from your so called ‘friends’ nothing at all. It was disheartening to say the least, but at the same time you saw it coming. The rest of those two months you spent with your mother, which was actually pretty nice.

☼-♥-☼

second year

as you stepped off the train, the cold air of Hogsmeade Station hit your face, causing the hairs on your neck to stand up. You looked around, watching students as they walked with there friends or hugged them tightly. You’ll admit, it made your expression turn dark.

so you stood, just watching. As people passed, they gave you strange stares and made snide comments about how weird you looked, staring off into nothing. Most students had dispersed when your shoulder gets knocked, bringing you back into the moment.

“Oh sorry!” you recognized the voice. Once your head turned your met with the familiar face of Neville Longbottom. “Oh Neville! Sorry was i in your way?” you quickly apologize, a sheepish smile on your face. Neville copies your smile, shaking his head “No, Seamus just shoved me too hard”

“Did not, your just weak“ Seamus argued, crossing his arms in a huff. You weren’t too familiar with Seamus Finnigan or the taller boy next to him, Dean Thomas. “Both of you, shut it“ Dean shook his head, a playful smile on his face as he pushed past the two boys to stand in front of you.

“You alright? You looked as if someone used body bind curse on you“ he jokes, a light laugh escaping his mouth. Oh jeez, how long have you stood there “Um- i was waiting for my friends, but i think they left me behind“ you confess, feeling more stupid then you already had been feeling.

Dean didn’t skip a beat as he shrugs his shoulders “Forget them, walk with us” he offers. You were a bit taken aback as you didn’t know this fellow Gryffindor well and he already seemed so friendly towards you. “Are you sure? I don’t want to be a bother?”

a laugh came from both Seamus and Dean while Neville chuckled nervously “Impossible, the only bother here is him. Now let’s go before we miss the boats” Dean points to Seamus, who’s expression drops “Your rude” he scoffs.

Dean smiles at him before using his hand to gesture to you to follow him as he led the small group through Hogsmeade.

the entire walk was Dean and Seamus trying to tell embarrassing stories about each other to make the other seem better. Neville would tell you all about what he wanted to learn in Herbology this year.

after awhile they eventually asked you questions about yourself, like- your name and who had ditched you. They were surprised to find out that the golden trio had ditched you. Seamus on the other hand wasn’t, saying how “No one is really golden”

☼-♥-☼

seventh year

fast forward to your final year at Hogwarts and you were still best friends with Neville Longbottom, Seamus Finnigan, and Dean Thomas. You all were no golden trio by any means, more like ‘Menaces To Society’ as Mcgonagall called you.

you weren’t a well behaved student to say the least.

speaking of well behaved “Shut up, shut the hell up!” Seamus whisper shouts as points his wand at Neville who is looking into the dark “But this is such a bad idea!” he whines, rubbing his arm to create some warmth as the night was cold.

“It’ll be fine, only if Dean hurries the hell up“ you say, placing a hand on Neville’s shoulder. He looks at you and nods once, shivering slightly. Smiling, you open the greenhouse door and peak your head inside “Dean, i’m getting frostbite out here!“

you watch as Dean’s head pops up from behind the large table, holding a potted mandrake “Oh i’m so sorry, but your not the one doing all the hard work!” he argues. You roll your eyes “You lost rock, paper, scissors. Maybe stop choosing paper dipshit”

Dean opens his mouth to say something back when you here Seamus groan loudly “Both of you can flirt later, hurry up! Filch will be back around in a few minutes” he snaps at both of you. Holding up a finger to Dean, signalling you could finish your argument in a second, you peak your head back out.

“In what universe was that flirting, Finnigan?“

“You were flirting with your eyes“

“....right, anyway-“ you slowly turn your head back into the greenhouse as Dean walks out, holding two pots of mandrakes, young ones to be exact. “Alright let’s go“ he says. You jump up in your place and clap your hands together “Oh this is going to be beautiful“

“I just hope we don’t get in trouble like last time“ Neville shudders, following behind you all as you made your way through the grass. “Will be fine“ you wave your hand, standing beside Dean as he held the potted mandrakes. “Shit, these are heavy“

“divide and conquer“ Seamus suddenly says as he takes both of the mandrakes from Dean, tucking one under his arm and handing the other to Neville, who happily held it tightly between both of his hands. Dean smiles and stretches his arms, until he hears a pop noise in both.

as you walked, a gust of wind hit all of you, making you shiver. Your dumbass shouldn’t have worn your pajamas out, which was only a black t-shirt with thin dark grey plaid pants. You had shoes on of course, you weren’t that stupid. “Told you to bring a jumper” Dean says in a sing song voice.

you turn your head to your side, scoffing “I’m not cold, i’m perfectly fine” you look him in the eye while he gives you a ‘really?’ look, which meant he knew you were lying. You hated that cute, dumb, knowing face. Without another word, you look forward once more.

Dean moves closer to your side and wraps his arms around your shoulder, pulling you flush against him as you both walked quietly. You suddenly felt very warm, but most of that warmth came from your own face. “Better?” he whispers, his hand rubbing your arm.

honestly, how did this tall freak not expect anyone to fall for him? For two years you have had a crush on Dean Thomas, but it seemed to always be platonic on his side. He was nice to everyone though, so it was hard to tell if there was any romantic intent behind his actions.

“Much better“

“Hey! Who’s out they’re?! No students out pass curfew! You are in big trouble!“ looking ahead you see the familiar shape of Filch in the distance. The bright lantern covering his face, so you were sure he couldn’t see you all as well. “Scatter!“ you yell and in an instant you all pull away from each other.

this isn’t the first time running into Filch, so you already knew what to do. All of you would run off separately until you couldn’t be seen and just apparate back into the common room. You had been doing it for years and were honest to Godric disappointed he hadn’t figured it out yet.

“Hey you get back here!“

as you pull away, you feel Dean’s hand travel down your arm until his fingers slide off yours. You would have loved to have bathed in that moment longer, but the fear of expulsion was too heavy on your mind at the moment. You spotted a pillar and ran for it.

once safely behind said pillar, you pull your wand out that you had safely in your.....i don’t know and apparate away.

☼-♥-☼

you stumble a bit as your transported into the Gryffindor common room, the calming sound of fire cracking on the wood in the fireplace. You were safe. Looking around the dark room, you don’t see Neville or Seamus, but you do see the back of Dean’s head as he’s sat on the sofa in front of the fire.

your eyes narrow as you walk over to the sofa, placing your hands on his shoulders “Hey Y/n” he says, not even taking a glance as you as he chuckles to himself. “How did you know?- Nevermind, where’s Nev and Seamus?” you ask him.

“There setting up the mandrakes, remember?” he explains before reaching up to grab your hands with both of his, pulling them down so your forced into resting your chin against the top of the sofa. He released only one of your hands and brought the other to his mouth, placing a kiss on your palm.

what the fuck?-

“Also I've had your hands on me before, not hard to forget“ he explains. The way he said that made it sound so suggestive if anyone else had been in the room. You were also stunned by the fact he just kissed your hand. This was one of the moments you couldn’t tell if he was being friendly or not.

you could feel his eyes on you, practically burning holes into the side of your face, but you just didn’t have it in you to look at him. Heart racing and your stomach feeling lighter by the second, you felt utterly and completely swooned by the tall Gryffindor boy once again.

“Can you look at me?” you hear him ask, feeling his free hand gently force your face in his direction so your E/c eyes meet with his. “What?“ you ask, trying to mask the fact that you were putty in hands at the moment. Dean didn’t respond, only smile widely as his eyes flicker from your eyes to lips.

he couldn’t be asking to, ya know..right? Before you could question it further Dean began to lean in and you found yourself doing the same “We did it!- whoa, what’s going on here?” you almost snapped your spine at how hard you threw yourself back, moving a good five feet away.

“Nothing!“ you and Dean shout at the same time. Dean folded his arms over his chest, coughing awkwardly into his hand. You watch as Neville steps out from behind Seamus, who’s grin is wider then ever before. “As much as i want to indulge in whatever this is, we have to get to our dorms- like right now“

“What, why?“ you ask, giving him a questioning look. “Neville dropped his Gryffindor tie back at the greenhouse so Mcgonagall and Dumbledore are coming to inspect in the house to see if anyone’s awake“ Seamus sighs, walking forward.

“Good thing it didn’t have my name on it or anything“ Neville smiles sadly before following Seamus to the hall where the dorms were at. “It’s alright Nev“ you send him a warm smile, trying to reassure him. You decided to follow them as well to the dorms “Y/n!“ you hear Dean call out.

thinking fast and stupid, you stretch your arms, letting out a fake yawn “Damn, i’m super tired. I’ll see you guys in the morning!” you push past both Seamus and Neville and speed walk down the hall. You made a beeline down to your dorm and almost ripped your dorm off of it’s hinges trying to open it

but once you do, you take a large step and shut the door behind you

what the fuck just happened?

that night you had laid in bed for almost an hour, thinking about your almost kiss with Dean Thomas. You felt shame, like you had someone forced this situation upon yourself. You liked Dean Thomas yes, but did you imagine that he was going in for a kiss?

eventually when your brain started to hurt too much, you fell asleep without any interruptions that night.

☼-♥-☼

you awoke to the sounds of awful birds chirping outside and roll onto your side, unfortunately though you were already on the edge of your bed and rolled right of the thing, collided with the hard wood floor that made up the ground of your dorm. You knew you should have gotten a damn carpet at that muggle store.

using your elbows, you prop yourself up and push yourself into the sitting position. What a glorious way to start the day you thought before standing on your two feet. Its saturday, which means you didn’t have to get too dressed up just to eat breakfast.

you yawn, not bothering to cover your mouth as you trudge slowly to your closet, swinging the door open. Taking into account that the weather had bit cold recently you pick out a multicolored jumper consisting of brown, beige’s, purple’s, dark blue’s, and whatnot. with a pair of brown overalls.

removing your clothes, you place them in a woven hamper next to the closet, you had taken a shower the previous night before going to bed, but you just ended up sneaking out. Eh- still counts. Once the clothes are on, you walk over to your dresser where your mirror was on the wall and looked in.

you looked tired and like someone who wanted to go back to bed, perfect. Reaching your hand up, you run your hand through your hair, untangling a few knots with your fingers before shaking your head, your hair now looking like in had been through a gust of wind.

also perfect

after that, you go over to the door slipping your shoes on with your feet before turning the knob and opening it. As soon as that wooden door unhinged you remember all the events from last night and internally cringed. God, today was going to be awkward as hell.

stepping out, you shut the door behind you, not bothering to lock it as you never had a reason to before. Gryffindor house was pretty chill with privacy and whatnot, so you weren’t worried about people coming in and taking your things.

☼-♥-☼

walking down the stairs to the dungeons, you had a gleeful smile on your face. See, the whole reason you stole mandrakes is because you currently were in a prank war with the Slytherin house, or to be more specific Draco Malfoy, Theodore Nott, Blaise Zabini, and Pansy Parkinson.

Draco said he could pull better pranks, you said otherwise and that’s pretty much how it started. It had been going on for a few weeks and the mandrakes were your big finale since you knew that ferret couldn’t do anything better. “Oh shit, Theo!” you heard as you took the final step.

you could hear screeching for a few moments before its quickly shut up. Speeding up, you turn the corner to see a group of Slytherins surrounding four passed out students, one of those students being Theodore Nott. “How did mandrakes get all the way down here?” Pansy crossed her arms.

“I don’t-“ Draco spoke, his head turning to spot you with a shit eating grin on “Nevermind“ he exhales before standing up straight and walking over to you “L/n“ he greets, a deadpan expression on his face while you look like you’ve won the lottery.

“Malfoy, i see you got my gift“

“Oh yeah, my friend Theo was just blown away“ he said, rolling his eyes which only makes you feel more victorious. “Yeah, sorry ‘bout that. It was meant for you” you smile innocently at him. He lets out a bitter chuckle before extending his hand out to you “You win L/n”

you gladly take his hand into yours and shake it “pleasure doing business with you, Malfoy” you say. Draco crack a smile, shaking your hand for a second before then letting go “Surprised to see Thomas isn’t following you, he usually is” he points out.

and there goes a reminder. Your expression visibly dropped “That’s- well, complicated at the moment” your reply spiked Draco’s interest as he leans against the wall “Do tell“ he gestures with his hand to continue. You eye him up and down, your nose cringing.

“Since when did you care about my life?“ you asked, the question sounding a bit harsher then you intended it too. Draco only shrugs “I’m bored, humor me L/n“ you chuckle at his words and shrugged as well. No harm in telling him anything.

☼-♥-☼

“Wow“ Draco breathed, his grey eyes slightly widened as you finished retelling the embarrassing events of last night “And you just ran off? Don’t think that was a good idea” he adds, turning his head to face you as you both leaned on the wall.

you exhale, a solemn look on your face “I know, i’m just not good with confrontation. I curl up into a ball and clam up, like i can’t speak” you explain. Draco nods along, listening to what you had to say “He’s your best friend, been your best friend for years. Talk to him, avoiding it will make it worst”

“Wow, that actually was helpful. You’ve surprised me Malfoy” you give hi a mock astonished look, making him roll his eyes. “Yeah whatever, now go away. I have to help them carry Theo back into the common room“ he pushed off the wall, standing straight.

“Tell Theo i’m sorry when he wakes up“ you turn on your heels and begin to walk down the stone hall, taking in a deep breath. Everything was going to be fine, no worries. Nothing at all.

☼-♥-☼

your first thought was to check the courtyard, it’s where you, Blaise, Neville, and Seamus hung out between classes. It was a good place to start. Stepping outside, you feel the gentle cold breeze nip your face causing a light shiver to run up your spine.

wrapping your arms around yourself you walk along the grass until you spot the familiar tree you all sat under. It instantly brought you back to the first time you had sat under it.

second year

“Found you“

your head snaps to your left where the voice came from. Dean, out of breath and wiping sweat from his forehead. You looked confused as he took a step towards you “You were looking for me?” you asked, head tilting ever so slightly to the side.

Dean looks at you like you had just asked a silly question, chuckling “Of course, you seemed upset a lunch as well so i wanted to check up on you” he said, taking a seat next to you in the grass. You avoided looking at him by pulling out blades of grass and ripping them apart.

after an awkward amount of time of silence, mostly on your part, Dean reach for the grass next to your hands and began to pull it out of the earth as well “What’re you doing?” you ask, still looking at the ground. “If you don’t want to talk, that’s fine. We can just sit here if that makes you feel better too”

weirdly enough, it did. Just having him sit there made your bad day feel slightly better. You couldn’t explain it, but his presence alone was comforting and made you feel more at ease. “If that’s what you want of course” he adds, his pinky extending out to tap your hand, just light enough not to make you tense.

you couldn’t bring yourself to respond verbally and nodded a few times. You hear Dean hum as he continues to copy what your doing. You both sat in silence and stayed there for an hour or so, just soaking up each others company.

that was the moment you knew Dean Thomas was a true friend

“Y/n!“ you hear a shout, bringing you out of your wholesome memory and back to reality. Seamus and Neville were running up to you with confused looks on there faces “What?“ you say, meeting them halfway. As soon as you were grabbing distance, Seamus places his hands on your shoulders and shakes you

“What are you doing here!?“ he shouts while you feel as if your brain is about to knock off of its stem and kill you “What’re you talking about? and stop shaking me!“ you yank his hands off of you. Seamus rolls his eyes and takes a deep breath like he’s about to talk a lot, and talk a lot he did.

“So after your almost kiss with Dean he told us by the way, he wanted to talk to you so we told him you’d most likely be in the dungeons giving Malfoy a tongue lashing“ Seamus explained before gasping for air. Neville puts a hand on his mate’s shoulder “He kind of thinks you don’t like him. Never seen him so upset before“

processing on the information you were just given, you thank the both of them and run back into the building. This school was huge, no wonder you didn’t run into Dean on the way back or even see him once. Nonetheless, you were determined to find him.

(Filled with determination- get it? Undertale reference)

☼-♥-☼

it took you a good ten to fifteen minutes to get back to the dungeons. You walked fast paced against the cobble ground until you reached the Slytherin portrait. There stood the familiar faces of Draco Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson. They noticed you instantly giving you a confused look.

“Your boyfriend is looking for you“ Pansy snickered, clearly amused by something. You let of a sigh, a hand running through your hair “Yeah i know, do you know where he went?“ you asked, already tired of walking around this shit school.

just kidding, Dumbledore if you could here there thoughts, they’re kidding

“We told him you were going to potions“ Draco said which floored you because why in Godric’s name would he say that. The Slytherin boy seemed to catch your confusion and gave you a ‘are you dumb?’ look. “Yesterday, in class, you offered to help Snape organize the stockroom?”

oh shit

you let out what can only be described as a sound of frustration as you realized you were going to be murdered by Snape before you could ever find Dean. You wished that you could apparate, but it was against school rules to apparate inside the school, aka as soon as you would do it, it would teleport you to Dumbledore’s office instead.

funny enough you could apparate from outside to inside the school with zero repercussions. The rule was ancient and so was Dumbledore, you had a feeling it wouldn’t change in your life time. “Right, thanks. I have to go” you say and give them a lazy wave.

“Go get your man Y/n! Then tell me all about it!“ you heard Pansy shout as you walk away.

☼-♥-☼

twelve minutes to get to potions. As soon as you pushed open the door you let the string of apologies fly “I’m so sorry Professor Snape, i completely forgot about helping out- Today has been super stressful and-” you were cut off by Snape himself.

“Silence, your....friend already told me all about your little issue as much as i didn’t want to hear it. Your free to deal with your teenage drama as long as it’s away from my classroom” he lifts his hand up, gesturing for you to go away like he requested.

he was surprisingly understanding, which was weird

“Oh um- Thank you, professor. May i ask where Dean said he was off to?“ You asked, fully knowing you might be pushing your luck and his sudden kindness. Snape sighs, dramatically you’d like to add “He didn’t say or he did and i didn’t care enough to listen“

“Right uh, thank you anyway. Goodbye Professor“ you laugh nervously. That quick kindness had run out. Snape only grumbles and you take that moment to walk out the classroom, feeling that little bubble of stress you usually got from talking to Snape fade away.

taking a few steps back you look at the potions door, god you’ve hated that class since first year. Potions were never your strong suit, you were more into astronomy or herbology. Snape never made it any better with his attitude,but he had always been like that.

fifth year was probably the worse

fifth year

it was the beginning of your fifth year and one of your earlier classes was potions. What a dreadful way to start the morning. Today you were instructed to brew a draught of peace, which was currently bringing you anything but peace at the moment.

you just couldn’t understand the instructions. Like at all. It was supposed to be a turquoise blue color when finished, but kept turning a dark purple instead. You only had about half an hour to get it right or you were going to fail your first potions lesson for the year.

at one point you got so frustrated, you slammed the ladle on the table but it was already pretty noisy, so no one really turned there head at the noise. “Someone’s cranky” you heard a snicker beside you, which you knew well enough to know it belonged to Dean Thomas.

“Try frustrated, i have to be the dumbest wizard in the entire wizarding world to not get this“ you sigh, crossing your arms as you stare at the dark purple liquid, the mere sight of it mocked your livelihood. Dean shook his head, stifling some laughter as he grabbed the handles of your cauldron.

“You continue to pout while i go dump this”

pout? you weren’t pouting. You rolled your eyes as he comes back, placing the cauldron back down onto your work space “Alright so you added all the ingredients right, but your stirring it to much and the wrong way“ he spoke as he added all the ingredients back in.

once he tilts the mortar and pestle, pouring the crushed unicorn hair into the liquid he smiles warmly “Alright now grab the ladle” he instructs and you, begrudgingly do so. Dean nods and moves to step behind you. As you go to turn around Dean places his hands on your arms, keeping them in place.

you tense almost instantly as his hands travel down your clothed arms until they rest on your own hands. He’s literally pressed against you, not rough or anything like that though. His head moved off to the side a bit “You stir like this” he begins to move your hand with his in the correct motion.

you honestly didn’t know how to feel.

as he slowly stirred the magical liquid he says something else to you “It’s okay to get frustrated, it’s also okay to ask for help. I’m here if you need me Y/n” he spoke and let go for hand, which suddenly felt a whole lot colder then it did a second ago.

Dean returns back to your side and smiles proudly once he looks into the cauldron “See, easy” he says. You pull out the ladle and look in to see that beautiful turquoise color you had waited to see the entire class period. Thank Godric, actually thank Dean. Speaking of that.

“Thanks Dean, i was about ready to pull out my hair“ you joke, placing your hands on the table. Dean chuckles and places on of his hands on top of yours. You tensed again, feeling light and warm as the pad of his thumb rubs the skin of your hand. “Like i said, i’m here for you, in any and every way possible“

his words made you feel even lighter if that was possible as you tried to contain a bright smile

that was the moment you knew you liked Dean Thomas

you sigh, pulling yourself out of your happy memory. How were you going to find Dean?

☼-♥-☼

late evening

after leaving Snape’s class you, funny enough, kept running into Seamus and Neville who kept pointing you into different directions or places. You were quite literally running around the school like a lunatic. Your current location was the library and library you went.

since you were absolutely terrified of Madam Pince, you made sure you cautiously open the door as you walk in as well as closing it. Looking around, you don’t see any familiar faces which had you already feeling doubtful, but you still had to look behind the tall bookshelves.

you decided to take the left side first and begin to walk through the middle isle with haste as you look around. No, nope, nothing, and disappointed. Jumping off the astronomy tower looked appealing at the moment. Alright, other side. You walked with the same fast pace, checking behind each shelf.

after about four rows, you come face to face with a freckled boy, causing you to jump back “Godric” you put your hand over your heart like an old man about to have a heart attack. “Ron, your ugly face is scaring students” you heard a male voice say.

wait, did he just say Ron?

you take a few steps back, yeah that was them. You first friends at Hogwarts. You saw them almost every week, but haven’t talked to them since your first year at Hogwarts. This was gonna be awkward, you could already tell. “Sorry ‘bout him, I’m Harry and these are my friends Hermione and Ron”

Ron steps back to stand next to Hermione. They all looked at you like your a new person they have never met before. You honestly didn’t know how to react. On one hand, it was kind of funny they didn’t recognize you. On the other hand, it felt kinda shitty.

you force out a bitter laugh, shaking your head “I- I’m floored that you don’t remember me and as funny as it is, i’m looking for someone” you say, about to excuse yourself from this mind numbing situation. “Wait! We know you?” Hermione cuts in, raising her hand a bit.

exhaling, you nod “It’s me. Y/n, Y/n L/n” you introduce yourself, like all those years ago. Watching there eyes widen one by one almost made you laugh “Oh my, Y/n. It’s been so long” Hermione smiles nervously. As evil as it was, you were kind of enjoying the awkwardness.

“Yeah it has, lovely to see you lot. Lets get together next decade where you can forget me all over again“ you had to admit, it was kind of mean but you were busy at the moment. “Wait Y/n, can we talk?“ Harry steps towards you, a look of shame on his face. Good.

did you really want to hear some shitty apology? You didn’t want them or blame them either. You were eleven year olds and children loose friends all the time. There wasn’t any deeper meaning, at least to you there wasn’t, but some part of you wanted to know why? Why were you abandoned?

“I have a lot going on right now, so make it quick Potter“

Harry smiles as he gestures for you to sit down at the table they were currently residing in. You follow him and take the seat across from the other three. Hermione, Ron, and Harry all sit down, looking as nervous and anxious as ever while you were tapping your foot against the ground, impatiently.

“We wanted to say we were sorry, for how we treated you in first year“ Harry starts, the other two nodding along. “Can i get a reason? If you didn’t want to be my friend you could of just told me. Instead you left me alone“ you fold your arms over your chest, already wanting this to be over with.

“You changed“ Hermione said. You expression shifted to confusion, scoffing “I changed? How?“ you asked. Godric it was a bad idea to listen to these guys. “You started hanging out with Malfoy, he turned you into some kind of menace. All you two did was pull tricks on each other back and forth“

okay so maybe this wasn’t the first prank war you’ve had with Malfoy

and it wont be the last either

“Seriously, you dropped me because i hung out with Draco? Yeah he’s a bit of an asshole, but he’s just all bark no bite“ you shrug your shoulders, maybe you were bias since you guys had been ‘friends’ for awhile now if you could call each other that.

“He’s a Slytherin“ Ron chimes in, looking as if he’s disgusted to say the word. “Ron” Harry warned, whacking his friends arm. Oh you were so not doing this house variably bullshit. Okay, maybe you had a ‘house prank war’ but that was all in good fun.

“I’m done here, i think i dodged a bullet with avoiding you guys all these years“ pushing off of your chair, you stand up ready to leave. Harry stands up the second you do “Sorry about them and they both can have there own opinions, but i know what we did was wrong and i just wanted to say i’m sorry“

looking at Harry, you could tell he was being genuine. Well at least one of them was. “Thanks Potter, now i have to go find someone” you try to make your escape again when you hear footsteps behind you. Stopping you see Harry at your side “Yes?”

“Who’re you looking for, maybe I've seen them?“ He offers. You assumed he was trying to be helpful as an apology. “Dean Thomas, know him?“ you ask, watching as his eyebrows furrow “Yeah but haven’t seen him- wait, it’s curfew in twenty minutes“

“Yeah, so?“

“He’s a Gryffindor, which means he’s heading back to the common room right this moment“ Harry points out, a light smile on his face. Your eyes widen and you throw your arms around the boy. You feel Harry tense, but still wrap his arms around you “Your a genius Potter“

“It’s common sense?“ he looks confused as you pull away from him. You tell him goodbye and that you two could catch up on a later date.

☼-♥-☼

you push through students on the staircase who were trying to the Gryffindor common room as well. Once you make it to the top, a student in front of you whispers the password “Dilligrout” the portrait opened and a wave of students filed in.

someone shoulder checked you when you made it in yourself, but you were to preoccupied with finding your friend? Crush? Person you had a crush on...yeah that works. All the students who came in had immediately filed down the hall to go to the dorms.

silence took over and once again you were in a empty room, your shoulder dropping a bit “Found you” that familiar voice breathed out. You spin on your feet to see Dean Thomas leaning against the wall, huffing as he reached to wiped sweat that had gathered on his forehead.

“You were looking for me?” you quipped back, obviously joking. Dean seems to catch on rather quickly and flashes a grin “Of course, you seemed upset after last night” he tells you, your expression dropping at the mention of the night before. He notices.

stepping forward, he takes your hand in his, gently leading you to the sofa. That cursed sofa. Once you both take a seat Dean clears his throat, his hand still intertwined with yours “How’re you feeling?” he asked, a worry glint in his eyes. Of course that’s the first question he asked.

“Nervous, anxious, something like that, but also scared“ you admit, while your free hand scratches the side of your neck. “What would you have to scared off?“ Dean had a sympathetic smile on his face, one that you had seen many times before.

you chuckle, thinking that what you were going to say had been the most obvious thing in the world. “That your going to stop being my friend because we almost kissed?” you said, but it sounded more like a question instead of a statement.

a, what you would call dramatic sigh escapes Dean’s mouth “I’m the one who initiated the kiss Y/n. I wanted it because i hoped you wanted the same thing, you do, right?” his voice wavers a bit, his confidence dropping with every word.

“Yes, i have for a long time” you confess. Dean’s smile was a mile long as he lifts your hand to his mouth, pressing a kiss to your knuckles “I wish we told each other this last night instead on running around to find each other all day” you both laugh at the situation.

“Yeah, now that i think about it. I could of sent you a howler” you say, exhaling loudly. How come you didn’t think of that sooner “Yeah, i guess we both didn’t think much” Dean then scoots closer to you on the sofa, his hand still holding your gently.

not having the courage to speak, you simply sit there as Dean lets go of your hand and cups your face instead. Your breath hitched as you feel his thumbs moving up and down each temple on the side of your head. He still had that dopey smile on his face too.

after what feels like forever, Dean closes the gap between you both, kissing you softly. His head tilts to the left as he continues to kiss you. You swore you could feel everything in you become as light as a feather. Kissing Dean Thomas was something else.

a couple more seconds pass by before he pulls away, a smug grin gracing his face “can we take this to my dorm? We’ve gathered an audience” his eyes glanced to the right of you. Turning your head in his hands, you see Neville and Seamus

“Do you all mind?“

“No, keep going“ Seamus waved with his hand, smiling at you both. Dean rolls his eyes as he stands up from the couch, grabbing your hand to drag you along with him. “We’re so happy it worked out“ Neville had a gleeful look on his face as Dean dragged you past them.

“Try to keep things quiet in there lovebirds!“ Seamus calls out as you and Dean walk down the hall. You scoff, shaking your head. Seamus was something else. Once you both reach Dean’s door, he opens it, allowing you to step inside “No promises!“ he yells before stepping inside himself and shutting it.

covering your mouth, you laugh into the back of your hand until what he said registers in your mind “Wait what?”

☼-♥-☼

Kody- It’s been a hot minute ngl. Um- i’m trying to find a regular schedule update every month, but honestly something called sleep and depression has been kicking my ass. Hope you enjoy this fic..requests are open. Anyways, peace.

☼-♥-☼

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princeescaluswords · 3 years ago

Text

NOT A PLACE YOU'LL FIND GOD

At first glance, creating a setting such as La Iglesia might seem a self-indulgent exercise for Teen Wolf. The location is revealed to be an Aztec temple somewhere in Mexico (in defiance of all historical or geographical logic) that is buried under a Roman Catholic church in a village destroyed by an earthquake. How long does it take to get there from Beacon Hills? Who knows? (also in defiance of all geographical logic) But that's not the point.

La Iglesia had to be a very deliberate choice, given how it was used to bookend an entire season. The action of the first episode, The Dark Moon (4x01), and the last episode, Smoke & Mirrors (4x12) concludes in the place. I propose that Braeden is right: "The Church" isn't where you find God, an external universal answer that brings peace, but instead it's a place where the characters find their true selves in the face of violent confrontation.

Very carefully, the production makes the case that identity cannot be determined or inherited by others, but only arises as a consequence of the choices of the individual. The message of La Iglesia is that in the end, when the earthquake hits, who you choose to be -- defined by what you choose to do -- is more important than any identity imposed by artifice, deception, or force.

he plotlines of the season all revolve around characters grappling with the tension between who they are and what they do, including Satomi's mantra, Meredith's Dead Pool, Brunski as an angel of death, and even the SATs. Yet all of those different journeys start and end in La Iglesia. Consider what we know about the temple. It is the holy place of a colonized indigenous people , with the religious practices of the conquerors imposed on top of it. But underneath, in the heart, the temple still exists. It is what is truly there, and it stands even as everything around it is destroyed.

In the violent confrontation at La Iglesia in the final episode of the season, the story allows the characters to make fundamental statements about who they have chosen to be. It's never just an expression of their inmost nature before which they are helpless. Each person is given a chance to determine their own natures.

Kate Argent starts out lost. She's supposed to be dead, from either Peter's claws or her own hand, but she's not. She has become La Loba, the Bone Woman, but she "doesn't quite know why." She wants to redefine herself in order to rejoin the Argents and their "glorious power" as an "aristocratic family of werewolf hunters." But in the end, she's still the same person we meet in the beginning of the series, willing to break the rules, willing to use people, willing to turn a teenage boy into her tool for getting what she wants. It's not a shock that she transforms a helpless Scott into a killer, the same way she transformed Derek so many years ago. In her bones, she's a monster because she doesn't see the connection between who she is and how she acts. Her brother confronts her "Who would you die for?" and Derek rejects her with "I was evolving, something you'll never do."

Derek Hale might be manipulated and used again but this time he decides not to internalize what was done to him by Kate, but instead to help others even as he endures the lingering effects of her maliciousness. He loses his powers, but he still helps defeat the Dead Pool. He works with others: Scott, Malia, and Braeden. He trusts them. He trusts himself. Faced with helplessness and death, he doesn't repeat the same mistakes he's made before, where he tried to use other people to protect himself. As he tells Kate, "I've evolved." He's changed, and he inherits his mother's legacy in full becoming who he really is at La Iglesia.

Kira Yukimura isn't having a very good time at the start of the season. Her life seems out of control. She doesn't want to torture Scott and Lydia, she doesn't want to move back to New York, she doesn't want to make do with what she has. She wants more, but she's not a taker. She wants to be soft and go on dates in order to have more, but she's afraid she that unless she's a fighter, she won't get any of it. At La Iglesia, she learns that she can be both a powerful kitsune and feel the things the way she wants to feel them. "It's all right to cry. It's no measure of your strength." In the obsidian, in the smoking mirror, she finds that what she feels can be used to grow stronger; she earns her first tail.

The list goes on and while I will save the two most important for last, almost everyone discovers something about themselves at La Iglesia -- Liam finds that he is indeed like the pack and belongs with them; Malia rejects her biological father's manipulative and lethal nature as not hers; Chris Argent finally stops making excuses for his family; and Braeden reveals that she wants to do more than eat. In the final battle at the Church they take actions that define who they are. Finally, this leaves us with the two people who have been grappling with their identities since the first episode of the first season.

Peter Hale has always tried to pass himself off as something he is not, and he has always been tripped up by the fact that his actions don't match his presentation. He's always tried to say he was out of his mind, he was claiming his family's legacy, he was doing what's necessary, he was living in shades of gray, but he's just been building churches on top of temples. He wasn't out of his mind, his family's legacy has nothing to do with power, killing people is not necessary, and he's not embracing moral nuance. He saw that Derek was dying and ran away to get the power he wanted. He found his daughter and tried to use her to get the power he wanted. He located the woman who burned his family alive and allied with her to get the power he wanted. When it came down to it, Peter's identity is defined by what he's been willing to do it to get what he wants. "You were never an alpha, but you were always a monster."

Scott McCall has always grappled with the fear that being a werewolf was going to turn him into something he didn't want to be. Someone who is alone. Someone who hurts his friends. Someone who enjoys the bloodthirst that the power gives him. In this season, his fears became manifest. He turned a boy against his will (even though the context was very different). He hurt his friends (even the girl he loves). He failed to save almost everyone as the bodies of the Dead Pool piled up. He had dreams of killing his beta for power and enjoying it. He tore into renegade hunters and let the alpha beast out for the first time. And it seemed like he was going to become what he had always fought against -- someone's murder puppet. But fear isn't action; it's an emotion. What he chose to do and what he chose to not do in the middle of a crisis situation is always a clearer indicator -- a better mirror -- for his own identity than dreams and nightmares. When it came to hurting the werewolf he created, he chose not to. When it came to facing the monster who put him there, he defeated him. Underneath the skull that was built on top of his own head is the truth of who he is: the True Alpha.

#scott mccall #teen wolf season 4 #scott mccall defense squad #twmetaweek2022 #la iglesia

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eijispumpkin · 4 years ago

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On Allegory, Imperfection, and Inadvertent Subversion: A small essay about Akimi Yoshida’s Banana Fish and Salinger’s “A Perfect Day For Bananafish”.

In the story of Banana Fish, Yoshida references Salinger’s short story “A Perfect Day For Bananafish” (which henceforth shall be addressed as “Perfect Day” simply for ease of reading) several different ways, both in-universe and out. It is exceedingly evident that the character of Ash Lynx is heavily based on Seymour Glass, and one might surmise that Banana Fish is an allegorical retelling of “Perfect Day”, especially given that in the original story, Ash Lynx dies of what is arguably a “passive suicide” – that is, when faced with an injury that isn’t immediately fatal, he chooses to bleed out rather than seek help, which when framed as a suicide, parallels the much more violent and sudden suicide of Seymour Glass.

However, this surface-level allegorical reading ignores a very important variable in the story of Banana Fish, namely the counterpart to Ash’s Seymour: Eiji’s Sybil. While Ash and Seymour share many similarities (both are traumatized, troubled geniuses with partly-Irish roots who grew up in New York City), the similarities between Eiji and Sybil are very few. Eiji does symbolize a world of innocence to contrast with Ash’s world of horrors, but unlike Sybil, Eiji is an adult with agency of his own, and though he retains some of Sybil’s childlike innocence and is able to connect deeply with Ash as a result of it, Eiji’s agency and decisions ultimately change the narrative and its meaning.

That is to say, by introducing Eiji as an imperfect Sybil, one who has agency and can actually provide Ash with understanding and support of the kind that Seymour never got from Muriel or others around him (and which Sybil, being three years old, was in no way equipped to provide), Banana Fish directly subverts “Perfect Day”’s original message of cynicism in the face of a material world unconcerned with the horror of lost innocence and its resulting isolation.

To understand what this means, it’s important to first understand the meaning and context of “Perfect Day” and the circumstances in which it was written. “Perfect Day” is a story written first and foremost as a critique of American materialism in the wake of WWII; Salinger echoes the concerns of the Lost Generation before him, in a way, by really driving home the alienation from modern adult life felt by those who were exposed to the horrors and traumas of the battlefields in wartorn Europe, only to return home and find a culture completely removed from it all. Seymour Glass is a stand-in for Salinger himself—Kenneth Slawenski, in his 2010 biography of Salinger, notes that on returning from the European theater, Salinger “found it impossible to fit into a society that ignored the truth that he now knew.”

If that sounds familiar, good, because it should! This is precisely the motif of “Perfect Day” (as well as some of Salinger’s other work featuring members of the Glass family, such as Seymour’s younger brother Buddy, which, as an aside, is a name that might stick out to Banana Fish fans. Whether this is an intentional reference or a coincidence, I can’t say for certain, but given the depth of other references within this allegory, I’m inclined to think it’s intentional).

As a quick summary for those who may need a refresher, “Perfect Day” is a story about a deeply traumatized man who feels isolated from the rest of society because of the weight of the horrors he has been exposed to. Muriel Glass, Seymour’s wife, is the epitome of this: she represents the materialistic culture that Seymour feels so alienated from, always talking about brand-name things and luxuries and upward mobility. Seymour rejects her company in favor of playing the piano for children and spending time on the beach, where he tells three-year-old Sybil Carpenter a story about bananafish, fish that gorge themselves on bananas in holes under the sea until they’re too fat to escape the entrances to these little banana dens, and then they die. Instead of dismissing this story as something bizarre, Sybil claims she sees a bananafish in the water, which endears her to Seymour, until she leaves, at which point he returns to his hotel room and shoots himself in the head.

In “Perfect Day”, this interaction (between Sybil and Seymour) is the center of a set of dualities. Sybil represents the state of childlike innocence that Seymour longs to return to, and because of her innocence, she can “understand” him in ways that the material adults like her mother or Muriel do not. Seymour’s isolation is a product of his society and the lack of support and understanding for traumatized veterans returning from war, and it shows in the way that adults his age cannot connect with him, and he cannot connect with them. This disconnect between worlds is what eventually results in Seymour’s suicide—he can fit neither in the world in which he wishes to be, nor in the one in which he must reside, and it ends in his death.

The question is, then, how does this relate to Banana Fish?

As mentioned previously, Ash Lynx is a very clear parallel to Seymour Glass. He’s a young man faced with immeasurable trauma from which he believes he can never recover, and there is a clear motif of duality in his entire character arc: his world (one of violence and trauma) versus the “normal” world (where innocent people who have “regular” lives may reside). Like Seymour, Ash feels trapped in a world he can’t escape, knowing “the truth” that he knows, about the horrors that people are capable of.

It follows, then, that Eiji Okumura is a parallel to Sybil Carpenter, who represents childlike innocence and a world that Ash longs to be part of but can’t reach. And to an extent, this is true: Eiji is sheltered and innocent, comparing real-life to TV shows and being completely unexposed to kidnappings, drugs, guns, and violence. However, there is a sharp contrast between Eiji and Sybil, one that fundamentally changes the relationship between Eiji and Ash and makes it radically different from that between Sybil and Seymour:

Eiji is an adult, and as such, he has agency of his own.

Unlike Sybil with Seymour, Eiji can make his own choices and face Ash as an equal. Where Sybil is a child who runs back to her mother after playing with Seymour at the beach, Eiji actively and consistently chooses to stay with Ash, over and over. He even explicitly tells Ash “you are not alone”, which is a huge and direct contrast to the message of inevitable, devastating isolation from “Perfect Day”. Whereas Sybil’s innocence serves as a reminder to Seymour of what he’s lost and cannot regain, Eiji’s innocence is a beacon of comfort and companionship to Ash. Eiji is someone with whom Ash can relax and be playful like a boy his own age, as noted by Max and Ibe watching them interact.

This communication and connection are present between Sybil and Seymour, but in a very different way. Seymour prefers to play make-believe and tell silly stories to kids, because he went from being a wide-eyed innocent to being traumatized and longing for a place to belong, and Sybil as a child represents what he wishes he had, while the adults around him (most notably Muriel, his wife) are a world he doesn’t understand that feels false.

This is not the dichotomy of worlds that Ash faces. Ash faces a world of trauma and suffering that he sees himself as trapped in, and a world of peace and security that he thinks is beyond his reach. Where Seymour yearns for a return to innocence, Ash yearns to escape his pain, and the combination of this subtle difference with the effect of Eiji’s agency and the narrative structure of Banana Fish results in a subversion of the themes in “Perfect Day”.

Banana Fish is a long-form narrative, while “Perfect Day” is a short story. Part of the inherent structure of a long-form narrative is character growth and development, which for obvious reasons is much less prominent in short stories. As a result, Eiji’s impact on Ash is clearly visible over the course of the narrative, and it becomes impossible to declare that Ash is firmly rooted in the world he sees himself as trapped in. By the end of the story, even Ash wavers on this assertion; although he ultimately succumbs to suicide, a narrative choice that been criticized ever since its publication, in the moments leading up to his stabbing, he does believe that Eiji is right, or at least right enough that he wants to see him one last time (this is ambiguous and open to interpretation, of course).

Why did this narrative choice spark so much controversy and outcry from fans? Not every story that ends in tragedy is criticized as poorly written for it; examples range from Shakespearean tragedies to “Rogue One: A Star Wars Story”, a film in which the entire cast dies in the climax. Yet just about all fans agree that it fit the narrative. Clearly, then, it is possible to craft a story that ends in death and tragedy but still feels well-written. What makes Banana Fish different?

I would argue that the answer lies in this imperfect allegory. By creating a Sybil-esque character that can interact with the Seymour-esque character as equals, can stay with him, and can listen to him and support him through his grief and pain, Akimi Yoshida inadvertently turned “Perfect Day”’s message on its head. The tragedy of “Perfect Day” is Seymour’s isolation. By giving Ash a warm, compassionate relationship in which he is assured over and over that he is not alone, Yoshida upturns this entirely.

Ash is led to believe in this dichotomy mostly by his isolation. He believes that since Eiji is in mortal danger as a result of being special to him, he needs to send Eiji to safety, i.e. somewhere far from him and far from the reach of those who would hurt them both. This isn’t a miscommunication issue or anything of the sort; this is Ash being afraid for Eiji’s life; Eiji isn’t averse to returning to Japan itself. Eiji is averse to returning to Japan without Ash, as he mentions when he talks about how Ash could be a model, and tells him about kami. In establishing this as a consistent tenet of Eiji’s character, Yoshida ensures that Ash is not isolated in the same way that Seymour was.

In addition, Eiji can move freely between both worlds set up in Ash’s perceived dichotomy, a motif made explicitly clear when Eiji leaps the wall to freedom and light at the beginning, leaving Ash (and Skipper) behind in captivity in the dark. Despite this escape from the world of violence and crime, Eiji returns of his own volition and stays with Ash, experiences his own fair share of horrific traumas, and still leaves in the end to return to his world. This makes it clear that the dichotomy is less stark than Ash is led to believe, unlike the repeated validation of his isolation that Seymour receives, and is another reason that the ending of “Perfect Day” is inconsistent with the ending of Banana Fish

A quick sidebar: Banana Fish has no real Muriel, but if pressed, I would posit that the closest parallel to Muriel that exists is Blanca, whose main purpose in the narrative seems to be to reinforce to Ash that he can’t escape the world he feels trapped in and longs to leave. But where in “Perfect Day” Muriel symbolized the materialism of American society after WWII, Blanca has no real established reason to be so invested in keeping Ash down, and in conjunction with the fact that despite his own traumas, he can retire peacefully to the Caribbean, his role in the story falls to pieces entirely. Where Muriel represented a lifestyle that Seymour fundamentally could not reach, thereby reinforcing his isolation, Blanca is supposed to parallel Ash to a degree, but his words to Ash do not match his actions whatsoever.

Therefore, if anything, Blanca’s assertions serve only to strike a contrast with Eiji’s (and Max’s, to an extent, since Max and Eiji both agree that Ash can escape this and they want him to heal). Moreover, Blanca’s relationship with Ash is that of a mentor and a student, a relationship that is shown to be fundamentally unhealthy, given that Blanca willingly worked for Ash’s abuser, a mafia don who he knew trafficked children. Some argue that Blanca was blackmailed into this service, but given that Blanca chose to betray Golzine at the end and work with Ash with seemingly no real provocation or change in his relationship with Golzine, this supposition seems flawed. Blanca’s assertions about Ash and his ability to forge bonds and leave his world the way Eiji does, and indeed the way Blanca himself does, are simply incorrect, and the narrative itself provides us all the tools we need to realize that Blanca is wrong, even without the extended context of a parallel to Muriel Glass.

Returning to the main issue at hand, i.e. that of the imperfect allegorical connections between Sybil and Eiji, and the dichotomy between worlds that Ash perceives, it’s clear that in creating a positive, nurturing relationship between Ash and Eiji rather than a one-off encounter, Yoshida inadvertently created a story about connections rather than isolation. Ash’s attempts to keep Eiji safe from harm by sending him home are countered by Eiji’s assertion that he only wants to go to Japan if Ash comes with him, which is a kind of selfless devotion that reaches through Ash’s isolation until he decides that he won’t try and separate himself from Eiji anymore, which is a massive blow to the dichotomy of his supposed two worlds. This is the narrative acknowledging that both worlds can coexist.

Not only this, but also Eiji, who has his own trauma—he’s kidnapped several times, shot at, drugged, sexually assaulted, attacked with a knife by a drugged friend, exposed to several deaths, shot at people in fights himself, and ultimately nearly killed by a gunshot wound—despite all of this, Eiji is still allowed to exist in the world of peace and regularity. Eiji’s innocence is sharply tempered by traumatic experiences, and he can still walk between worlds. If Eiji, Max, Ibe, Jessica, Sing, Cain, and Blanca can all experience traumas, why is Ash the only one who cannot escape? Is there some kind of magical bar of “too much” trauma, like an event horizon on a black hole?

Obviously, no.

So it comes to this: Essentially, the reason that the ending is so controversial, and why I personally believe that the open ending of the anime is an improvement to the original story, is that the allegory between Banana Fish and “Perfect Day” falls apart because of Eiji’s agency. Ash wants to protect Eiji, and to protect Eiji’s innocence and light, because he feels that it’s beyond his own reach, but Eiji forges a bond with him that is rooted in mutual respect and care, and in doing so, undoes the devastating, painful isolation that led to Seymour’s suicide. This is why Ash’s death can feel so hollow—it doesn’t follow the pattern of “Perfect Day”; after the entire story is about Ash’s bonds and those who love him unconditionally, it feels almost like a shock-value plot twist tacked on, rather than a tragic inevitability.

I don’t believe that Yoshida intended Banana Fish to be a subversion of “Perfect Day”. I believe she meant it as a one-to-one allegory, and this is why she kept the ending as Ash choosing death. However, due to the changes in themes because of the characters and their relationships, Ash is not isolated in the profound way Seymour was, and his death is therefore not nearly as impactful.

#this is 2600 words i am so fucking sorry but also im not sorry im just verbose #banana fish #banana fish meta #asheiji #ash lynx #eiji okumura

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nbrook29 · 3 years ago

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Kiss or Slap

Sander doesn’t remember when exactly their group made the riverside near the Scheldt their new hangout spot, but he couldn’t be more grateful for it as a cold breeze washes over his overheated body, providing a momentary relief against the scorching heat falling from the sky. It’s probably why the park is fuller than it usually is on Thursday afternoons, packed with people spread on their picnic blankets, searching for a bit of shadow under the big trees and desperately craving a bit of wind.

It’s so hot he doesn’t even feel like sketching, preferring to just lie on the grass without moving a single muscle, and dying in peace. Even the enticing smell of cinnamon rolls that Noor brought with her isn’t enough for him to reach out and take one from the basket, the action requiring too much movement on his part.

“Guys, come on, we have to start or we’ll never get it done! Sander, get your lazy ass up.” He grunts when he feels Leon’s merciless fingers jabbing him in the ribs.

“Can’t we wait until it gets a little less hot?”

“No, cause that’s not happening in the nearest future and we need new content,” Nathan butts in, followed by Noor, which makes Sander officially outvoted. So he heaves a deep sigh, puts his shirt back on and ruffles his hair to make himself more presentable, rolling his eyes at Noor’s appreciative whistling.

“Someone’s gonna snatch himself a bunch of kisses today with that smoldering look,” she teases, pretending to give him a once over.

“Is that your way of telling me you want one for yourself, sweetheart?” He’s immensely proud of himself when her entire face scrunches up in disgust.

“Eww, no, feels like incest at this point.” Which is kinda true given the fact they’ve known each other since kindergarten and became best friends making sand castles. He fires an obnoxious wink at her, fully anticipating a shove which comes as expected within seconds, with Noor calling him a creep in between laughter.

“Who should we start with? Senne? Wanna go first?” Sander watches as Leon takes out his camera equipment and checks the settings as the rest collects their things.

“I guess, yeah. And then Nathan after me?”

“I’m not doing it, man, you know Britt, she’s gonna flip out.”

“Be a good reason to break up with her,” Sander mutters under his breath, not really feeling apologetic when Nathan shoots him a glare. It would be a long time coming, and honestly, Sander can’t wait for that moment to come. Just being in her presence gives him chills, she’s that much of a horrible person. A few years ago, he read something about alternate universes and sometimes when he looks at her he can’t help but think there’s a history there with the two of them, in a past life or something. At least it would explain that weird energy between them.

If it’s true, he feels very sorry for that Sander.

He roots for him to run far away from said devil’s spawn.

“I can go next, I don’t have the ball and chain,” Noor says innocently, but she’s smirking over Nathan’s shoulder at Sander who pretends to high five her in their shared hatred for Britt.

“Yeah, us lonely birds will sacrifice ourselves and take the hit for the wellbeing of our channel,” Sander laments playfully, making Senne snort.

“Dude, you’re on your own by your own choice.”

“And pickiness. Don’t forget pickiness,” Noor adds smugly.

Sander huffs in protest. “I’m not picky! I just...” He cuts off because he’s not about to just explain it all now.

“Just what?”

“Specific about what I want.”

Brown curls, brown eyes, shortish, lean, pierced ear, cute giggle, elegant hands and a smile brighter than the sun.

To be exact.

“Yeah. That’s picky.”

“Whatever,” he replies grumpily, and decides to ignore Noor’s knowing look. Sometimes he feels like she has a sixth sense and can read him like a book. Or she’s just less oblivious than the boys in their friend group. That’s a totally possible option too.

Thankfully, she doesn’t push him further (she’s awesome like that), though Sander has a feeling she’s gonna grill him later when they’re alone. For now, she checks her lipstick in her phone as they all briefly plan the video.

Not like there’s that much to plan; a few days ago, they decided to shoot a kiss or slap challenge for their YouTube channel because it had been wildly requested by their viewers.

Sander still doesn’t quite know how he became a part of a YouTube channel in the first place, always considering himself to be a bit more, well, sophisticated than that? But Leon was into it from the beginning and made them all participate in exchange for free beer, until one day one of their videos blew up.

If you can call getting 100k views on one video blowing up.

Anyway, they got semi-popular amongst Flemish teens and even managed to snatch a sponsorship with Mentos (however small the offer was) that paid actual money. And he had just managed to move out of his family house so any money coming his way he welcomed with no questions asked.

So they’ve kept shooting silly challenges slash anything else that’s a trend at a given time and have been able to cover their art supply needs with what little they earned. And, though Sander refused to admit it in the beginning, it’s actually kinda fun. It’s definitely better than his part time job at Pull&Bear where he has to deal with obnoxious customers on an almost daily basis.

They record a short introduction near the river, quickly going over the rules and explaining that the three of them will be competing in who gets more kisses versus slaps.

“Hey, you know what, this is actually unfair cause you both can kiss anybody,” Senne points out all of a sudden, receiving four pairs of unimpressed glances.

“No one’s stopping you from getting kisses from boys too, dude,” Sander is quick to shut him up, shit-eating grin on his face as he gives him his first (light) slap to the cheek.

They follow Senne around the park with a camera as he turns on his charm and smiles sweetly at the girls he chooses for the challenge, doing surprisingly well on the first few attempts. But when they venture deeper into the park and he tries his luck with college girls, he gets 5 slaps in the row to the rest of the group’s utter delight. In the end, his results are a blow to his pride and even Sander feels sorry for him, giving him a pat on the back while trying to hold his laughter in at Senne’s grumpy face.

Noor does much better, naturally, as her upbeat personality and a wide smile have always made boys and girls turn their heads. She gets a kiss after kiss, blush after blush, and two phone numbers in the process. Senne argues again that it’s unfair because no one’s gonna slap a girl anyway, but Leon just calls him a sore loser while Noor shamelessly flirts in French with another girl right in front of the camera.

Sander’s very proud.

Taking a quick sip of water, he gives Leon a thumbs up and starts his round, coming over to three blond girls chilling near the skateboarding ramps, trying very hard not to come off as creepy and clarifying the kiss part being only a cheek kiss. The girls erupt in giggles, but they all grant him a light kiss. One of them tries to flirt with him after, but he shoots her down before she can get too into it.

“Such a heartbreaker, you,” Noor coos at Sander’s pained face when they all walk away.

“That’s you, and you actually enjoy it,” he quips back, sticking his tongue at her.

“I do not, shut up!”

Fifteen minutes and fourteen kisses later he’s officially in the lead, sealing his victory with a kiss number fifteen he receives from a cute redhead. He’s gloating in Senne’s bemused face about nobody choosing to slap him when he stops in his tracks.

It’s the proof of his hopeless infatuation that he’d recognize that laugh everywhere.

He looks around for its source, but he comes up short. Then, his eyes focus on the skatepark area and his heart starts beating faster.

Because it feels like a sign. Like the universe is giving him a chance to finally do something. Make a move.

“Hey, can we shoot one more try?” He asks the guys, trying to sound casual while glancing furtively in the direction of brown curls.

“You’ve already won, but I guess?”

Nobody questions him about his reasons, they just follow him to the ramp.

And he’s so fucking nervous.

It’s incredible, really, how he generally has no problems talking to people he’s interested in, conversation flowing without him even trying, gaining easy smiles and appreciative looks wherever he goes, some natural confidence to him.

But that boy. That boy is something else.

He makes him question everything he says, makes his palms sweat and makes his deep hidden shyness come onto the surface.

Sander saw him for the first time during Open Day at the Academie in may, strolling casually through the hallway with his friend, completely oblivious to the turmoil he was causing to Sander’s heart.

That was the day Sander saw an angel.

Fate placed him on his path again sooner than he could’ve hoped, the boy participating in a 2 week film course at his school only several days after he saw him for the first time. And he tried so hard to convince himself to talk to him over that time, but he only managed a few smiles while passing him by in the hallway.

That and that one stupid joke he said to him while they were waiting in line at the cafeteria that makes him cringe in despair just thinking about it. Seriously, it’s like his entire cool evaporates when he’s near him.

But, the boy laughed at it. So maybe it wasn’t as horrible as Sander is making it to be. Or he was just being nice.

Robbe.

Robbe, who he’s been crushing on ever since that fateful day in may.

Robbe, who was at the same party he was last weekend.

Robbe, who he talked to at that party and managed to calm his nerves enough to be charming and funny.

Robbe, who giggled, blushed and bit his lip at Sander’s dumb jokes that evening.

Robbe, who slipped through his fingers because Sander blacked out soon after.

He almost never drinks, but that one night he did, celebrating the beginning of summer break, and not realizing his usual abstinence meant he was now officially a lightweight. What an awful timing.

Robbe doesn’t notice him right away, having his back turned to him while talking animatedly to his friends. Taking a deep breath and plastering a smile to his face to hide his nervousness, he approaches them.

“Hey guys, got a second?”

He notices the recognition in Robbe’s face right away, and Sander shoots him a quiet “hi” when his eyes meet his, an unsure smile blooming on his face.

“Hey, what’s up?” One of the boys nods at the camera.

“I’m Sander, and we’re shooting a video for our YouTube channel, the kiss or slap challenge,” he quickly explains, the boys’ faces lighting up.

“Hey, we have a channel too! I’m Moyo, this is Jens, Aaron, and Robbe.” Moyo reaches out to bump his fist with him and damn, Sander has to find that channel if Robbe is a part of it.

Jens levels him with a look. “So, you want us to kiss you or slap you?”

“Pretty much, yeah?” Sander chuckles because he’s aware it’s ridiculous, but he’s a man on a mission here, give him a break.

“I think Robbe should represent all of us, don’t you think so?” Moyo proposes, tongue in his cheek as he checks with the rest of his friends. Sander catches the death glare Robbe sends the boy before looking back at him and crossing his arms, looking a bit out of place. And, fuck, the last thing Sander wants is to make him uncomfortable.

So he asks softly, “you’re in?” and waits for agonizing five seconds as Robbe watches him, eyes narrowed, before his features smooth out and he smiles at him.

“Sure, why not.”

Relieved, Sander lets out a chuckle and tries to keep his cool. “Okay then - kiss or slap?”

Robbe squints against the sun and makes him wait another few seconds before he answers, but Sander’s not worried because there’s a soft smile on his face and obviously his angel wouldn’t-

“Slap.”

Wait, what.

He can hear his friends bursting in laughter at this unexpected turn of events while Sander can only stare in shock because how could he miscalculate the situation this much?

Gulping, confused and heartbroken, he asks, “you’re sure?”, to which Robbe nods with a poorly hidden glee.

“But you have to close your eyes cause I can’t hit you while you're looking at me.”

Heaving a deep sigh and trying to save a face despite the humiliation flooding his body, he nods and closes his eyes, steeling himself for it.

But it never comes.

Suddenly, he feels a hand cupping his cheek and he flinches a little, but then soft lips touch his in a kiss so gentle he blinks his eyes open, not knowing what’s happening.

“That was payback for you promising to call me and not keeping your word,” Robbe whispers against his lips before leaning away, something sad and wistful passing through his face. Sander is left completely dumbfounded, ignoring the hollering from the two groups as his eyes fleet all over Robbe’s face.

It’s difficult for him to collect his thoughts because holy fuck, Robbe has just kissed him and he’s internally freaking out. He finally manages to get his bearings when the remnants of a smile slip off Robbe’s lips.

“I-, Robbe, you have no idea how much I wanted to call you, but I don’t have your number.”

“I gave it to you. At the party?” He doesn’t look like he believes a word Sander is saying.

“Um, I kinda blacked out and don’t remember much after like one-ish?”

“You saved it though, I saw you typing it in,” Robbe argues again, but this time he doesn’t look so sure. “Wait, what’s your number?”

Sander watches him entering digit after digit before hitting call. He fully expects a plain number to appear on his screen, eyes widening when he sees what pops up instead.

zk bambieys 🥺🦌👁️💘🧡💖💞 calling

“Fuck, you did give me your number.” He’s not fast enough to hide his screen from Robbe, but he can't even feel embarrassment once he notices the frown disappeared from his face.

“Bambi eyes?” There's a teasing note in his voice, but his pink cheeks sell him out.

Sander scratches his head. "I was very drunk, you can't hold it against me. Also, your eyes are really beautiful," he clarifies, winking when Robbe laughs at his shameless flirting. "Hey, I tried to find you on instagram, but nothing came up. I was really hoping we're gonna bump into each other again. Sorry for being a dumbass and not realizing I had your number this entire time?”

“It’s okay.” Robbe shoves his hand into the pockets of his jeans, swaying on his heels. Sander decides to put them both out of their misery and take the initiative.

“So if I asked you out, would you say yes?”

It looks like Robbe’s about to nod, but then he bites his lip, an almost cheeky smile directed at him. “I guess you have to call me to find out.” And then he gets on his skateboard and casually skates away to the nearest ramp, pulling a surprised laugh out of Sander.

If he was intrigued before, now he’s totally smitten with this wonder of a boy, because damn.

Their friends finally seem to regain their voices and speak over each other at what just happened, but Sander doesn’t pay them any attention, just takes out his phone again and pressing the call button.

Watching as Robbe comes to a full stop at the top of the ramp, he cocks his head with a grin and waits until he picks up.

“Hello?”

“Hey, it’s Sander.”

“Yeah, I can see that,” Robbe laughs into the speaker.

“Will you go out with me?”

He meets his eyes across the skatepark as Robbe makes him wait again.

Then, with a smile so radiant it overshadows the sun, the boy finally gives him his answer.

“Yes.”

#wtfock #my fics #i think i prefer writing sobbe in canon #i kinda struggle with the AU versions of them #😫

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phantomphangphucker · 4 years ago

Text

Phic Phight: If Only You Had Compassion

Prompt Creator: @summerssixecho

The bad blood between humans and ghosts was going to come to a head eventually, and when it did everyone was going to get hurt.

Danny sighs, runs a hand through his hair, and leans back against the wall; staring at the news disbelievingly.

They had lost.

Lost the entire goddamn case. Because the American government had officially decided: Ghosts were not sentient. Ghosts were not beings. Ghosts did not have rights. And ghosts were a threat to the country. Meaning any and all instances of ghosts and anything -excluding weapons or other items used to combat, control, or harm ghosts- were illegal to exist, possess, or help.

Danny, they, had gone about this the human way. Had been respectful. And nice. And friendly. And it didn’t fucking work. They extended a hand and got fucking bit.

And of course, anyone who had been fighting for ghosts and their rights and safety were the first ones to come under fire and scrutiny. And with nearly all of Amity Park being on that list, it was no surprise the G.I.W. were coming here and banging on doors at record speed.

What’s worse? Danny had been the loudest voice. Of course he had. He had to be. He was fighting for his own goddamn rights after all; not that the government or his family knew that. But it wasn’t just that. No.

Danny Phantom was King. THE High King. This was something he had to deal with, had to handle. And well... the cards hadn’t landed in his favour. In their favour.

But that wasn’t the end of it, because on top of it, his parents couldn’t understand what he was doing, to the point that Danny had to just get out of that house.

Technically he was homeless now, but well, being a ghost rather negated that. He had a whole dimension if need be and could get by just goddamn fine on the streets.

In the end, Danny had lost pretty well all his respect and love for his parents. They had become the enemy too and he just couldn’t afford room to old sentimentality and dwelling on ‘what could have been’ if they had been better people and parents.

At least Danny had listened to his gut and firmly ordered all the ghosts back into the Infinite Realm. He didn’t have to worry about any full ghosts getting captured, tortured, dissected, and destroyed.

Elle was safely with the residents of the Far Frozen too, so no worries there.

And Vlad... Vlad could look after himself. Last he heard the man fully intended to blow up his entire mansion and lab should the case fall through, purely to stop the G.I.W. from getting their hands on anything. Money only went so far in protecting yourself and your assets after all. Danny didn’t doubt the man’s willingness to do it either.

So that just left Danny. The one who was really the most at risk. He was damn near the face of the case, of the campaign. He was a minor still, limiting his rights even further. His ‘parents’ were hunters, hunters that idolised the G.I.W. and worked with them gladly and eagerly.

And he was a true halfa. Exactly half and half. He couldn’t even hide himself from the Fenton’s janky scanners, hiding wasn’t an option.

But then again, hiding had never even been an option for him. Hiding wasn’t Phantom’s thing, wasn’t the Kings thing. For now though? He lays low. He watches. And he waits. Waits for the Observants to finally back him proper. For FrightKnight to rally and ready. And finally for ClockWork to give him that melancholic face that says there is no other option.

Because Danny played this like a human. Because Danny gave humanity a chance. Because Danny wanted to have faith in people. Because Danny had hoped his goddamn half-beating heart out.

Because Danny was scared. Because he was still a kid. Because he shouldn’t have to pick one or the other. Because he doesn’t want anyone to get hurt.

Well now there wasn’t much of a choice. He picked ghosts the day he took that crown. The day he agreed to apprentice under ClockWork instead of the Fenton’s. The day Danny Fenton became just a fabricated mask for Danny Phantom to hide behind.

And now everyone was going to have to play their part. Fulfil their role. Dance out repeating history on the world’s stage. Everyone was going to have to pay a price.

Because when you take away someone’s rights in your own eyes, then they take away yours in theirs.

Because when the government decides someone doesn’t get to exist, and then every other government falls in line because the military powerhouse that is America has decided, then that someone is going to thrash and bite and scream to get to exist.

That’s how its always been.

Survival of the fittest.

And humans? Humans weren’t the fittest by miles.

Because humanity had been given coexistence on a paper. Had been given peace on a paper. And had drawn weapons and scalpels and hate instead.

And for that, this means war.

And not just a skirmish or dispute. No. An all-out bloody war. A massive war. A war beyond anyone’s wildest imaginations or worst dreams.

Because what humanity didn’t know is there were laws that existed. Laws that already governed dead and mortal interaction and travel between the realms. The Oaths and Seals. Older than most of the Ancients and predating nearly all mortal life in the universe.

And one of those Seals states simply that any being of death or life could traverse between Realms freely without harm, threat, or unwilling containment from ruling bodies or any species as a whole.

To say ghosts couldn't exist here. It was such a direct blatant violation. There was no way around that. There really wasn’t. If it wasn’t acted on then it could be overlooked as someone making stupid laws and ignored. But that just wasn’t the case. Wouldn’t be. In that sense it was both blessing and curse that Amity would be targeted first. He had a chance to stop them. To hedge them at the gates.

To cut the Gordian knot.

To meet them at the doors to his lair and tell them what awaited them should they choose to pass. Should they choose to continue a damned and forsaken path.

It would mean revealing himself. Would mean ending the lies and double life. It would mean definitively and finally choosing a side. Choosing ghosts. But it was what had to be.

And if they choose to cross him?

Then it’s game over.

Because Amity was Phantom’s lair. The High Ghost Kings land. His people. His subjects. His. It would be treason. Would be a crime against the High Crown. Against not only the Seals but the Kings Decrees and the Law Of Ages as well. There would be no going back.

The punishment was death. Was absolute subjugation. Was the end of humanity's reign upon the earth.

Because in the eyes of the universe, humanity would have forfeited the right to stand as equals to the dead. They would become lesser and treated as such. Any human who refused to kneel and bow to the Infinite Realm, to him, would be summarily cut down and disposed of.

He didn’t want this. He truly didn’t.

But it wasn’t his choice to make.

It was humanities. The G.I.W.’s.

Danny had very little faith.

But at least he could try. He was a determined bastard to a fault. Even when he should probably give up. When it was probably a lost cause.

This was hopeless now. He knew it. But he had to try and when that failed... then he’ll fight. He’ll fight with a frown and tears screaming down his face. But he’ll damn well fight.

Because that’s who he is. What he is. Because if he doesn’t do this for the ghosts then he’ll do it for the humans he protects.

For Sam and Tucker, both nearly halfas themselves due to UnderGrowth and a past life lived.

For Star, Paulina, Dale, Brittney, Kwan, Ashley, Emilie, Todd, James, Dash, Mikey, Nathan, Rosalia, Jasper, and Carrie, so horribly contaminated by Spectra’s and Bertrand’s experiments.

For Jazz, who’s opinions and field of study made her a ‘threat to humanity’ all the same.

For Valerie, who’s nanobot suit ran on ectoplasm that she could never be separated from without her death.

For Lancer, and Trent, and Remi, and Testlauf, and Ishiyama, who all just knew too much.

For every citizen of his home, his lair. Because the G.I.W. would wipe them all out.

Because he was King.

It does not matter how a king cries nor mourns nor wishes things could be different. Because a king sees his people free before he grasps his own. Because a king knows his people safe before he dares relax. Because a king does not belong to himself but to the people he rules. Because they are the kings children dear and he must see them well. Because it is his duty to do what they can not and pay every price. Because a king can never fall unjustly. Because he is their hopes and dreams.

And though he cries and begs and weeps, his blade hand must stay steady and his sword must strike swift without mercy. Even if he wants to run, every friend and family dear he must be willing to sacrifice if the need arises. Even if that leaves him alone and in pain.

Because that is the cost of the crown.

And now Danny has to pay his dues.

Has to see himself a conqueror to the human world he once protected with everything in him.

He doesn’t want this but this is what the world has given him and he must walk with it.

Into a future that may be filled with hurt and pain. That’ll make him hate every breath he takes or the things he’s seen. Or maybe something beautiful will grow from the ashes. One can only hope.

He sighs and stands. What must be, must be. Running a messy hand through his hair and shaking a spray can. He may as well tag the place where he found things changed before he goes.

Goes to wait on the road.

Wait for the men in white suits to make their arrival.

Wait for the end result of the pain the mortal government chose to wrought.

Wait for Danny Fenton’s ending.

The spray cans psssshh is oddly loud. It hurts his ears.

The FrightKnight meets him outside the alleyway. He nods and Danny nods back. It is done. His army awaits him.

He wishes it didn’t.

He knows the humans have armies of their own. Awaiting retaliation or strike back perhaps. But those armies won’t see war. They won’t do battle or struggle to win. This won’t be two forces meeting to oppose each other. No. It will be more akin to an exterminator coming in with his toxic fumes and spraying down annihilation.

The Dread Army stood four billion strong.

That wasn’t a force humanity could face.

And the Dread were truly non-sentient. Casualties on their side was not of issue or concern. And should humanity somehow persevere and fight back. Then there would be so many more ghostly armies ready and waiting for his regretful and pain-filled command.

He senses the pulse from the Observants, sent out through the Infinite Realm’s ectoplasm and across the threshold of life and death.

They approve. And inside, he weeps.

He traces his fingers on the bricks, walls, and trash cans. Everyone is tucked inside. They know what’s coming as much as he does, just not what comes after. They see this as their end. Danny does too, but for different reasons.

He knows Sam, Tucker, Valerie, and Jazz are all hovering over the extractions waiting for his signal. Waiting to pull his lair into the Infinite Realm. Waiting to save them and leave him behind.

Amity will always be home. But it just won’t be the same. Not for him. He won’t be able to just be another citizen in their eyes or to them anymore. And his friends, they’ll have to look at him knowing that he’s was ultimately directly responsible for the demise of at least thirty percent of humanity.

And he’ll have to get used to that being reflected back at him in the mirror. And refusing to look at all was a weakness he couldn’t allow himself to have.

Stopping at the fountain, its waters reflecting gears and cogs and swaying necks of clocks. As it always had since everything began. As if the water was counting down to the end itself. Only Danny knew that was more fact than fiction.

Water flows like time after all. And no matter what it must continue on. For the sake of life. For the sake of growth. For the sake of time itself continuing on. For the sake of everything.

Danny sits on the edge and it is not his own reflection that greets him, a small mercy, but ClockWork’s.

They look old and tired and worn. Aged by the faults of humanity's actions and inactions. Aged by the weathering storm that is change and its cruelties. But above all else, aged by what they know must be and what they must ask of him.

All is as it should be.

And isn’t that an awful thing.

Danny can only look to the sky tinted faintly green and nod, carrying on his way. Changing everything with every step he takes. Aching more with each breath he takes. And becoming more king than hero with every inch the city limit grows closer.

A hero can fall and rise a king.

But is still a fall all the same.

Because a king does not do what is right. He does not do what is good. What is just. What is kind. He does what he must. Decides what is best.

Humanity decided what was best and lost the bet. They gambled against death.

But death...

Death always wins in the end.

It’s the house we all must rest on. It is the debt collector at the end of every tax season. It is our last breath or a snap of the neck at the end of the noose of our own creation. It is the bullet in the gun that we forged ourselves. It is the black screen left after the credits roll, only ghosts going home.

It was always going to be this way.

What will his ‘parents’ do. Will they die. Will they live. Will they force their way back to the mortal world and seek to strike him down. Will the town or ghosts see them hanged as an example. Will they accept reality and learn. He doesn’t know. In a way he doesn’t want to.

Regardless the town’s edge approaches and he finds himself standing on the precipice of everything he has ever known, everyone he has ever loved, every place that has ever housed him.

And now he steps forward to leave it behind. Says goodbye with resounding footsteps. Mourns the loss as the G.I.W.’s armoured vehicles and containment trucks drive toward him.

Toward death.

He wished they’d stop. Turn back. Change their minds. But knows they won’t.

Ignorance would be bliss.

The most decorated vehicle stops barely feet from him. The officer inside hoping out with a smirk that Danny hates down to the bottom of his guts.

“Well how nice for the worst of them to come greet us. What. Here to turn yourself in for your disgusting crimes against humanity“.

Danny honestly doesn’t care about their words. Not how they’re said nor what is said nor who says them.

It’s meaningless.

Danny shakes his head disappointedly, “I tried. I really tried. So sorry about this. But you leave me no choice”.

The man squints at him. Not that it matters.

Danny looks up at the sky, if he didn’t know better he’d say the clouds were swirling all centred around him and waiting for him to do as he must. As the crown commands. Sighing, “I don’t know why humans must make things so hard for themselves”, and lets his human form melt away without any flashy light show. Green energy pulsing out of his feet and shooting skyward like flaming arrows lighting up the funerary ship seeing a fallen warrior off.

The reaction is immediate. They open fire on him, pausing only when every single high anti-ecto round merely bounces of his green shield; the town behind him shimmering green before vanishing like wet oil wiped off canvas.

Danny shakes his head, “that isn’t how this is going to be. Sorry”, and takes one single step forward. Voice bellowing and sturdy though he feels like shaking apart into sand, “the American government, on behalf of the entirety of the human race, has designated that the ghost species is no longer allowed amongst them or on earth. As such, they, alongside the rest of humanity, have broken the True Kept Equivalent Co-Existence Fault Line Seal of the Exterial law of the Realms. Your options are as follows: revoke your illegal actions and halt your approach or continue on as you are knowing that your actions are an act of war and punishable by the immediate annihilation of thirty percent of humanity followed by the forced subjugation of your entire species. Furthermore, any actions of violence or harm taken against Amity Park, her citizens, or Daniel James Janus Fenton Phantom, will count as an act of treason and war against the High Ghost Sovereign, king of the entirety of the Infinite Realm; and is punishable by immediate death and I do mean your death”.

He stands there and stares. Waits for a response. The men take their time, but eventually...

One of them fires.

“There’s your ‘answer’, you lying ectoplasmic scum”.

Danny bats away the weapon, not even bothering with a shield. They would need nukes if they wanted to so much as scratch him.

He had all the Infinite Realm’s ectoplasm at his fingertips after all. And it sings to be used. To defend its lands and king. To strike down those who must be, for the prosperity and safety of its people.

And Danny gives it that.

He must after all. It is his place.

With merely a flick of his fingers the Dread Army make their debut. Some are here, some are elsewhere. But where ever they may be they bring down destruction and chaos and punishment.

You may think Danny wrong for placing all this on one man’s response, but in truth he, as Phantom, had informed every government of this reality already.

The decision was already made. The choice already set in stone.

He just thought that maybe...

Maybe.

These men before him would have some heart. Some soul. Some sense. Some compassion.

And choose to say no. And refuse to follow orders.

He would rather team up with humanity to stage a coup d’état against their respective governments than what has to transpire now.

The FrightKnight appears and gores the man who dared to fire at Phantom knowing the consequences of doing so. Danny forces himself to watch the man fall, knowing his orders and words and actions were as much the sword that killed him as the one his High Dread Knight wields.

The FrightKnight turns back to him and he knows there is sorrow in his helmeted eyes, for he knows his Knight knows he is not a hardened man nor a man at all.

Just a child with too much weight. Too much hope. Too much asked of him. Too much power at his fingertips. And too much of both life and death.

“Go”.

Danny does as he’s told, as he’s asked. Thankful to have even an ounce of personal responsibility lifted off his shoulders.

Humanity was never going down a good path. Never doing the right thing.

Damning the water they drank with oil and plastics.

Damning the air they breathed with tar and fumes.

Damning the earth that fed them with pavement and poisons.

Damning their fellow neighbouring mortal species with overhunting and stolen lands.

It was only a matter of time before they damned themselves with their ego and actions.

Nothing can survive if it burns every bridge around it.

Especially if the bridge it sets its sights on to burn is the bridge with death.

For only nothing lies where death can not be.

End.

Prompt: After a fierce legal battle to end experimentation on ectoplasmic entities, it's determined that, no, ghosts can't have any rights in the human world and possessing ghostly artifacts, materials, or organisms is illegal. With the GIW enforcing the new laws, starting with Amity Park, how will Danny avoid scrutiny?

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fridayfirefly · 4 years ago

Text

Lavender for Tranquillity, Pink Aster for Love

Read Lavender for Tranquillity, Pink Aster for Love on AO3

Masterlist

Written for Maribat March Day 16 - Magic

“Here's your drink."

"Thank you," Marinette said with a smile, setting the coffee mug down next to her textbooks. She was doing some last-minute studying for her upcoming Herbology final, and the coffeeshop sandwiched between the Business Department and the Herbology Department was her favorite spot to study.

Setting down her pen, Marinette picked up the coffee cup and took a long sip. Immediately she knew something was wrong. The entire taste of the drink was wrong, and not in a subtle way, as if the barista used an incorrect ingredient. Marinette had ordered a plain vanilla lavender latte, but this drink was something entirely.

The shock of adrenaline through her veins hit Marinette like a bus. Not only had she been given the wrong drink, but she had also been given a drink infused with an alertness charm that had her breath shortening and her hands vibrating from the extra energy.

On shaky legs, Marinette stood up and walked over to her waitress. "Excuse me," Marinette said apologetically. "But I think you gave me the wrong drink. I ordered a vanilla lavender latte."

The waitress's eyes widened as she saw Marinette's shaking hands. "Oh no! I gave you the chai latte infused with an extra-strength alertness charm."

Marinette couldn't identify the drink by taste, but given that her heart was racing as if she had just finished a marathon, the extra-strength alertness charm sounded about right. "Yep."

"I am so sorry about the mixup. Your drink will be free, of course, and you can have anything you want on the house. It's my first day, and I was supposed to take this to take four but I took it to table fourteen - that it, your table - by accident."

"It's alright. Everyone makes mistakes. I'll have my vanilla lavender latte, as well as two blueberry muffins - one for me and one for the person at table four, the one was also involved in the drink mixup.

The waitress nodded eagerly, obviously relieved that Marinette hadn't gotten angry at her. "Of course. I'll bring everything to your table momentarily.

Glad that the mixup was over, and still buzzing from the effects alertness charm, Marinette went back to her table to continue studying. Having grown up in a bakery all her life, Marinette knew the different herbs and flowers well. She grew up eating lavender cookies when she was anxious and passionflower icing right out of the mixing bowl when she needed comforting.

Marinette read the words out loud off the page, cementing them into memory. "Wormwood for divination, juniper for protection, passionflower for contentment, aster for patience, lavender for peace and tranquillity, roses for love and affection."

"Excuse me."

Marinette looked up from her textbook to see a young man standing beside her table. "Can I help you?"

He uncomfortably rubbed the back of his neck. "I wanted to apologize for the drink mixup. I'm sure that my extra-strength alertness charm wasn't what you were expecting."

Marinette realized that he must be the other participant in the drink mix-up, the one whose alertness charm she drank. "No worries. It wasn't anyone's fault. It was an accident."

The man nodded. "I also wanted to thank you for the blueberry muffin. It was a nice gesture."

"Oh, you're welcome..." Marinette trailed off, pausing the conversation for him to introduce himself.

"Timothy Drake, but you can call me Tim. And you are?"

"Marinette Dupain-Cheng. Are you a student at Gotham University?"

Tim nodded. "Yep. I'm in my junior year. I assume you go here as well, though I don't think I've ever seen you around before. What's your major?"

"I'm a sophomore fashion major, with a specialization in Thread Magic. Also, a Herbology minor, which I know is an odd choice. What about you?"

"I'm double majoring in Business and Charms, so I know all about odd choices."

"Take a seat," Marinette offered. "If you explain your odd choice in majors, I'll explain mine."

"Sure." Tim smiled at her. "A business major was the practical choice for me, as I always planned on taking over my family business. I guess I was getting a little sick of the practical choice, because I couldn't quite shake my interest in magical academia. That was what led me to the Charms Department. I never intended to major in Charms, until I found out that I had nearly all of the required credits to add a Charms major to my diploma."

"I understand all about mixing practical with completely impractical. I've known since I was young that I was gifted in Thread Magic. I used to embroider sigils into all of my clothes. It was a natural choice, choosing to become a Fashion major, because it allowed me to pursue thread magic as a career. Then, one day during freshman orientation when I was exploring campus I wandered into one of the greenhouses. I was instantly enthralled, as if it was fate for me to work there. I bribed my academic advisor with homemade cookies to let me drop my Potions elective to take Intro to Herbology, and ever since then I've been working in the Herbology department."

"That's not the oddest reason," said Tim. "Sometimes magic drives us to do things we don't quite understand. You just have to go with it."

"Hmm," Marinette hummed in agreement. She let her mind wander for a moment until she realized that she was staring at his lips. She tore her eyes away from them, instead, fixing her gaze on her latte. "So why did you need to extra-strength alertness charm anyway? Finals week all-nighter?"

Tim nodded. "I stayed up all night studying because I had two finals this morning, and in twenty minutes I'm getting a ride back home to my family's house for a big family dinner. Trust me, I would prefer a nap to an alertness charm, but desperate times call for desperate measures."

"You know what's better than an alertness charm?"

"What?"

"Some fresh air," Marinette smiled. "If you'd like, I could take you on a tour of the Herbology greenhouses."

Tim's face brightened up. "Sure, I would love that."

Marinette finished the rest of her latte and returned the mug to the front of the coffeeshop. She and Tim then left the coffeeshop in the direction of the Herbology greenhouse. The sun was shining brightly overhead, and Marinette could feel the call of the magical plants deep within her bones. That was Marinette's favorite part of being a Green Witch - the connection she felt to nature was indescribable, but when she did try and describe it to her friends and family, she emphasized that it felt incredibly right.

"Herbology was the subject you were studying for in the coffeeshop, right?" asked Tim.

Marinette nodded. "Yep. I was just reviewing some notes. I'm still a little nervous about it, but I don't think I can study any more than I already have."

"I hope you do well."

Marinette blushed. "I really hope so. If I get a good enough grade in the course, I might be able to get a position on the Herbology Department research team. It's very selective, though. They only take two students from each year."

Marinette and Tim walked up the stairs to the front doors of the greenhouse. Marinette opened up the doors and let the warm, humid air wash over her. "I could just live here forever, and never leave," she said with a smile.

Tim tugged at his shirt collar. "It's a little too humid for my taste."

Marinette shook her head. "That's what I thought at first too, but you get used to it. Eventually, the humidity stopped being annoying and started reminding me of all of the positive feelings that I associate with the greenhouse. Even if it does still make my hair frizzy."

Just as Marinette was about to start her tour of the greenhouse, a timer went off on her phone. "Oh!" She exclaimed, pulling it out of her back pocket. "My final starts in ten minutes. I guess I thought I would have more time to show you around."

Tim shook his head. "It's no problem. I have to leave soon anyway, to catch a ride back to my family's house. They drive me nuts, but they're family," Tim said with a shrug.

"Here, how about we reschedule for some other time." Marinette grabbed a scrap of paper out of her backpack and wrote her phone number down on it.

"Sure." Tim pocketed the paper. "Do you live in the area?"

Marinette shook her head. "I'm an international student, from Paris. I won't be back in Gotham until next semester."

"That's a shame. I suppose I'll see you next semester, then."

"Oh wait, one last thing." Marinette plucked a blossom from the flowerbed beside her. "Pink aster, for patience. To help you put up with your family." Marinette smiled and tucked the flower behind Tim's ear.

"Thank you, Marinette."

"I'll see you soon, Tim." Marinette watched him leave the greenhouse and get into a car parked beside the coffeeshop. A question lingered in her mind. When she gave Tim the flower, was it to give him the patience to survive his family dinner or was it to give him the patience to wait for her to return to Gotham. Either way, what she had no excuse for was giving him, out of all the shades of aster growing in that flowerbed, the pink variety. Pink aster was, as Marinette knew well, the aster that symbolized love.

With a shake of her head, Marinette left the greenhouse. It was silly to think of love when she only just met him. Love at first sight never seemed to turn out well for Marinette. She would meet someone, fall head over heels in love with them, harbor an unrequited crush for months, and eventually admit her feelings, only to be shot down every single time. It was exhausting. Marinette's first rule when she came to Gotham was that she would never let someone crush her heart again.

Yet, Marinette couldn't shake the feeling that this time was different. There was a seed of hope buried deep inside of her that was telling her that something about Tim was different. Maybe, just maybe, he felt the same way about her.

As Marinette stepped into the Herbology lecture hall to take her final, her phone buzzed with a text alert. She turned her phone on and her face lit up with a smile when she saw who the text was from.

Unknown Number: Good luck on your final and good luck getting that research position! I can't wait to see you again next semester! (P.S. This is Tim)

Marinette had a good feeling about what was to come.

@maribatmarch-2k21

#maribat #timari #timinette #MaribatMarch2021 #marinette dupain-cheng #tim drake #magic au #modern magic au #college au #coffeeshop au #this fic is a mess of aus #miraculous ladybug fic #my work

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cdroloisms · 4 years ago

Note

maybe you could talk about the dynamic between c!wilbur and c!tommy / c!tubbo? i think it's very interesting and i have conflicted feelings about them, i'd love to see your takes

c!wilbur my beloved ,, he’s such an interesting character and his relationship w/ c!tommy and c!tubbo is simultaneously so ,, twisted and heartbreaking. i think he really did care about them, to the end, but c!wilbur had always been characterized with his ,, love for lmanburg, to the point of obsession - think him in the revolution, saying “we would rather die,” him and his unfinished symphony in the button room on the sixteenth. in the end, it’s this obsession that really comes to destroy him,, but i feel like he still *cared* for tommy and tubbo, you know? tommy, canonically, saw wilbur as an older brother figure, and i feel like to some degree that feeling was reciprocated - not in the healthiest way, especially as c!wilbur became more manipulative, but that came from his untreated mental illness and growing paranoia and other things. i think that he saw himself as a sort of,, mentor figure, to both tommy and tubbo, and he hurt them, in the end, in very very deep and unjustified ways ,, but he still cared. it doesn’t make it right, or even better, but i think that w/ the way wilbur thought, he wasn’t necessarily trying to be cruel.

anyway, take this mutually assured destruction au (credit to @dreamsclock for the au) interaction of c!wilbur and c!tubbo!

tw: mentioned abuse, death, manipulation, toxic relationship, unhealthy thinking, mental illness, derealization (? wilbur thinks of everything as a twisted story), c!wilbur critical (not really? but just in case)

“Do you know what he did to Tommy?”

Wilbur turns, blinks, smiles; Tubbo is standing in front of him, spine straight, shoulders pulled back; there’s a fire in those eyes, highlighted by the starburst scar that stretches over his face. He wipes the gunpowder with a quick snap of his wrists, one-two, and cocks his head to the side. Amusement bubbles under his skin; now this is interesting.

“Tubbo! Can’t say I expected you here,” the kid is wearing netherite, but doesn’t move closer, keeping himself just out of reach of a sword. Smart, Wilbur shifts, stuffs his hands into his pockets, he’s learned.

“Wilbur,” Tubbo’s voice is firm, tired. Wilbur stays silent, prompting, something satisfied becoming a curling warmth in his chest; he’s always been perceptive, moreso than Tommy. Tommy lives, breathes a sort of unpolished sincerity, drawing attention, bleeding heart and loyalty and emotion so brilliantly and shouting so loudly that everyone has no choice but to listen - to contain him is no easier than to cage a flame. Wilbur knew this, even back in Pogtopia, let his and Dream’s passion and drive and bone-deep feeling burn each other out.

Tubbo sighs, lifts his chin; his eyes are cold. Something amused pulls at the corners of Wilbur’s lips; where Tommy is fire, Tubbo is ice, waiting, watching, letting Tommy charge into the fray while he hangs back and simply observes. He’d known, even then, that when push came to shove, Tubbo would be the one to get the job done, that he was the one that would smile serenely with an arsenal of weapons hidden up his sleeve, had looked into those ice-blue eyes and seen the same snake-in-the-grass determination that he recognized from every time he looked in the mirror.

“I know,” he says, finally, every word carefully measured, just smooth enough to edge on the side of sincerity. He doesn’t miss the way that Tubbo flinches, the tremble of his bottom lip, but turns away and pretends not to notice. “He told me, and even if he didn’t, I still have Casper the friendly ghost’s memories, as much as I don’t like them.”

“Then-” Tubbo’s voice cracks, goes quiet, and Wilbur watches from the corner of his eye as the kid purposefully untenses, hiding his shaking hands behind his shield. “Why are you helping him?”

Wilbur pauses; it’s not a question he didn’t expect, but the weight of it is- startling, even so. Something bubbles, hot and vicious, in his throat, almost tasting like anger, revenge, love. He remembers his hand placed, calming, on a too-tense shoulder, nestled in wind-blown hair, remembers star-bright eyes following him, hanging onto his every word like they had the power to coax the sun into the sky. Remembers, even in the hazy joy and grief that had been the world falling to pieces under his hand on the sixteenth, that spark of blue-tinged sorrow that had almost felt like regret burning cold and quiet in the middle of his chest.

“Have you read Shakespeare, Tubbo?”

Wilbur turns away, but it’s not early enough to miss the way Tubbo jolts at his question, a mumbled, incredulous “what?” falling from his lips.

“His tragedies, specifically,” he counts the TNT in his inventory, thumbing through the rows and rows of dynamite. “If you haven’t, they all follow the same basic formula - it’s how tragic heroes work, after all. It all boils down to one flaw - just one mistake, that sends the entire house of cards crumbling down.” Just one button pressed. Just one person that shouldn’t have been trusted. Just one life.

“I don’t- I don’t see how this is relevant, Wilbur.”

And here’s the thing; once upon a time, these boys - they had been his.

Not his, as in family, or his, as in followers, but some muddled mix of the two. They’d been his to guide, to some degree, his to keep out of trouble, his to teach about drugs and blackmail and propaganda and respect and leadership and honor. And- maybe he never should’ve been trusted with kids, maybe they shouldn’t have given a damned man this responsibility - scratch the maybe, they definitely shouldn’t have - but the universe didn’t operate on “should have”’s so he ended up with these brilliant, lost boys anyway.

And he fucked up, more than anyone, more than even Dream, because these boys had been his in a way they never were for Dream, but Wilbur has always been a selfish, selfish man. He chose his unfinished symphony first and he’d choose it again because that was the flaw in his foundation, the chip in his soul that would send him collapsing from the outside in every time, but that doesn’t mean he can’t try to guide the kid standing in front of him away from the path of self-destruction that Wilbur’s already too far down to come back from, that he and Tommy and Dream have been damned to.

“You’re a side character, Tubbo. You don’t matter,” Wilbur speaks, ignoring the hitch of breath that comes from behind him, “and this is a tragedy. Everyone that matters dies at the end of a tragedy.”

“Wilbur-”

“Cassio lives in Othello. Horatio lives in Hamlet. Dream, me, Tommy - we’re fucked. We’ve been fucked since the beginning of this story, since L’manburg. I signed our death warrant the moment I signed that declaration, Tubbo! We’re dead men walking. It’s only a question of how much we burn down before we burn out. But you?”

“You’re not like us, Tubbo. When the curtains close, when this story ends - somebody’s going to be left to pick up the pieces. You have people to live for now.”

“This- this isn’t a story, Wilbur.” Tubbo’s words tremble in the air, hang between them like a thread pulled taut - the thread frays, snaps, as Wilbur begins to walk away.

As he leaves, Wilbur remembers Dream, hair white in the moonlight, back when those eyes shone with something other than remembered pain - this isn’t a story - and hopes that Tubbo won’t learn the hard way, too.

#tw abuse #tw death #tw manipulation #tw toxic relationship #tw unhealthy thinking #tw mental illness #tw derealization #mutually assured destruction #c!wilbur critical #not really #but tagging just in case #my writing :D #my asks !!

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